LA boy

The last post

2010-04-04T22:12:00.000-07:00

I am standing in LAX 2 minutes away from boarding a one-way flight yo New York. I wanted to write so many things about my time in LA but, well, here I am. I feel the feelings but I don't know what to say about them, except that it is the end of an incredible chapter of my life, and I am grateful for everything that has happened to me over the last five years. I will continue writing over at NYE if you're still interested in what happens to my crazy self. Thank you to everyone, and everything, and every moment that made this day happen after years of dreaming about it!

Another special day

2010-03-11T04:09:00.000-08:00

As of today, Bumble has been living cone-free for exactly two months! We really have no idea why this has happened. His condition was getting so bad towards the end of 2009, and we were so disappointed that he had to wear the cone during Christmas break. Now he's almost... like... a normal cat...?

We had been trying so many different strategies before Christmas, so it's hard to say which one deserves the credit for this. But then he didn't have any treatment at all for two weeks, and it got better three weeks later? Who knows.

Of course, Bumble's old issues have made frequent guest appearances in the last two months -- ear infections, weird rashes, obsessive licking behavior, more ear infections -- but by now we've accumulated an entire shoebox of medicines from all his visits to the vet, so we can immediately treat his ailment of the week.

And it's been gradual, but -- fingers crossed -- his symptoms have really scaled down to the occasional acne outbreak. And sometimes he gets this weird inflammation around ONLY his right eye...

Aww, Bumble. I'm rooting for you, little crunk friend.

A special day

2010-03-05T16:30:00.000-08:00

Four years ago today, I met Dan for the first time. On March 5th, 2006, I went to pamie's house to watch the Oscars and ended up drinking Jack Daniels out of the bottle with my cute new friend who I only knew as the famous djb from Television Without Pity.

We moved in together in January of 2008, and promised each other that this apartment would certainly, definitely, positively be the last apartment we live in in LA. We weren't ready to leave yet, and we didn't know when or how it would happen, but the seed had been planted.

This time around, Dan and I rang in our anniversary at midnight, wearing some combination of sweatpants and no pants, packing moving boxes and making arrangements for our impending cross-country move -- which goes down in less than a month!

In fact, Dan and I will not even see each other today, or the rest of the weekend, because he'll be in New York laying eyes on our new apartment for the first time. But that's okay, because I feel closer to him than ever and I am very proud of the great things we accomplish together.

Happy Anniversary, Dan. I am totally stupid for you.

I love TV

2010-03-04T04:32:00.000-08:00

I was driving home from work when I saw a billboard for United States of Tara season 2. YES! I love this show to death and I am so glad it's coming back.

I've been catching up on a lot of TV lately. I've been stalled on the third season of Lost basically since that season started airing and I realized I couldn't stand watching it anymore. Actually, it was the first time I ever watched Lost on television instead of DVD, and I have to say, I don't know how people do it. With a show that aggressively mysterious, I need more answers per sitting or I just get mad.

But finishing the last 15 episodes of Lost season 3 in less than a week was GLORIOUS. I also realized that the first six episodes of that season are just really crappy. I can tell you exactly when I stopped tuning in: when Kate and Sawyer are trapped in zoo cages and pushing buttons for food and stuff. And those two are not my favorite characters anyway.

Nevertheless, after those early episodes, season 3 gets REALLY good REALLY fast and all of a sudden I was back in, harder than ever. You could montage all the times my jaw dropped in disbelief. You could do that if you were secretly videotaping me in the middle of the night. That would make you a disgusting pervert, wouldn't it? Anyway, I am completely obsessed with Lost again and I'm thrilled that I'm so behind the times, I have two whole seasons to gobble up on DVD before getting to find out how the series ends along with everyone else.

I've also been plowing my way through another jaw-dropping series, The Shield. Since the new year I've watched seasons 4 and 5, and now I'm in the middle of 6.

Season 4 is the one starring Glenn Close, and I was all ready to bask in the masterful facial stylings of Miss Glennums Clo-Clo, but I think she kind of blew it. I know, EVERYONE says she's amazing in The Shield, and she is. Too amazing. In fact, she is so amazing that all I can see is how amazing her amazing performance is, and then all I can see is Glenn Close being amazing and I don't see her character AT ALL. But there are worse problems to have than being too amazing of an actress, Glenn, so don't send me asshole text messages just because you didn't get an Oscar for Paradise Road.

Season 4 had some great stuff in it, but it never really jelled for me and I wasn't sure how I felt about continuing for three more seasons. Besides, season 5 has Forest Whitaker in it and you can IMAGINE how I was looking forward to that if I thought Glenny seemed a tiny bit pretentious. But I was completely shocked-- within a single minute of the first episode of season 5, I KNEW IT WAS THE BEST ONE YET. And it was. My "watching Lost" face, with the mouth hanging open, also became my "watching The Shield" face.

Now I'm racing through season 6 and I could immediately tell that, even though it picks up right where season 5 left off, it's not a great season and I definitely think they blew it with Forest Whitaker's character.

Also, I might as well mention that I've become unhealthily fascinated with Bad Girls Club on Oxygen and... well... sorry everyone.

Next, I'm finally going to start Mad Men and see what that's all about!

Random movie still of the day

2010-02-23T17:42:00.000-08:00

Random movie still of the day

2010-02-22T20:21:00.000-08:00

Can anyone guess what movie this is from?

Scrambled eggs cat LASIK

2010-02-21T05:27:00.000-08:00

It's 5 AM and normally I would just be getting to bed about now, but I actually managed to fall asleep around 3 AM and I'm just awake to get a drink of water. As I walked into the kitchen and looked out the window, I noticed this building which I know is a mile and a half away and I could totally read the little sign on it with no problem. Whoa! That eye surgery was the best $3,800 I ever spent. Everyone should do it even if they have 20/20 vision. Everyone should do LASIK even if they just had LASIK yesterday.

Another thing I thought was, what if there was some kind of disaster and I literally had to run for my life or evacuate my home? What if my glasses break then? What if they fall off my face as I'm fleeing a tornado or a flood or something even crazier? Part of living in LA is the daily question mark of whether this is the day "The Big One" is finally going to happen. Maybe not everyone is as obsessed with this as me and Dan, BUT THEY SHOULD BE. It's long overdue and everyone knows it's going to happen. Do I really want to make that situation more interesting by not being able to see jack shit if I'm suddenly in a survival situation and something happens to my stupid glasses?

By the way, I just had to get up for a minute to clean up after Bumble puked scrambled eggs all over the floor. Yes, scrambled eggs. Dan and I enjoyed some right before going to bed and I guess Bumble ate our leftovers. If there is a downside to having perfect vision, it can probably be summed up in these four words: "scrambled eggs cat barf." I saw that shit with perfect clarity. Yuck.

Otherwise, though, it's nice to know that if I had to survive in the wild, at least I would have my perfectly perfect vision, which I hope would make up for the fact that I don't know how to hunt for food or build a shelter or defend myself from predators. In nature, an animal with shitty eyesight is basically marked for death, right? And my vision was REALLY bad. I couldn't even read signs a few feet in front of me. Now imagine all those animals who can't read signs at all. What I'm trying to say is, we need to focus our energy and tax dollars on teaching animals how to read. And giving them LASIK. I will be running for president in 2012. Thank you very much.

Getting rid of the car I don't have, part 1

2010-02-19T03:17:00.000-08:00

A really annoying series of events took place at the end of last year that resulted in my car registration being suspended two months before I even found out about it. Needless to say, none of it was my fault and everyone else is wrong.

Before leaving LA for good, David had been using my car for most of last year and I had truly started believing it just wasn't mine anymore. I couldn't have been happier to finally live my life pretty much completely on foot. IN LOS ANGELES. If Tyra Banks could ever be thanked for anything (and I'm still pondering this one), it's her stellar choice to have ANTM post-production at a location incredibly convenient for ME.

So David moved back to Redmond (before he moves to New Zealand) at the end of 2009 and I got stuck with this dumb car again. I never want to own a car again in my life. It's always a new headache, something different going wrong, some check you have to write to the DMV, insurance payments, gas prices, AAAAHHHHHH!! Now I have this old brokedown car with a suspended registration and all I want to do is sell it or donate it as soon as possible. I'm really not sure anyone is going to buy it though, because Tove peed in the backseat three years ago and it still smells like evil when the sunshine cooks out those immortal cat piss fumes. I would not recommend buying this car from me.

But I couldn't even think that far ahead because without a valid registration, I couldn't sell or donate the car at all. The choices presented to me were (a) send in $14 and proof of insurance to get my registration back -- which wasn't going to happen because I'm not going to insure a car I'm trying to get rid of -- or (b) call an automated phone line which offered no options to speak to an actual person. So I decided to go with option (c) and make an appointment at the DMV anyway.

It turns out this was a very good decision. I was prepared for the worst. For the last week I've been dreading this appointment. I was thinking, This is the start of another apocalyptic LA fail and this will drag on for weeks and cost me lots of money for no reason. But no! I showed up an hour early, they called me up in 20 minutes, I signed and dated a single piece of paper and it was done. Totally finished. I am now free to sell the car and it didn't even cost me the $14!

I totally credit Santa Monica, where this kind of stuff tends to be way less annoying for some reason. Way back in the day, Paula advised me to make all my DMV appointments in Santa Monica even if it was out of the way, because they will take care of business. Sure enough, I've always had good experiences at the DMV in Santa Monica, as good as DMV experiences can be. The DMV in Hollywood... well... those might be the four most stressful words in the English language. It's like everyone is handed a crying baby when they walk in the door of that place. And everyone behind the counter has decided they hate you before you reach the window.

Anyway, that is one big mess sorted out. I love it. Next order of business: actually getting this bastard out of my driveway!

Sandra vs. Meryl

2010-02-05T05:29:00.000-08:00

This is the cover of the latest issue of Entertainment Weekly. I have a lot of questions about the featured headline "Sandra vs. Meryl." Seriously? That's really bad, guys. That means that Helen Mirren, Carey Mulligan, and Gabourey Sidibe are not even in the race. IT'S SANDRA VS. MERYL. The showdown everyone has been waiting for!

No. Actually, if it's down to Sandra vs. Meryl, then give Meryl the Oscar today. Just mail it to her with a thank you card for starring in Lions For Lambs or whatever. She will appreciate it because she's the classiest woman in Hollywood. Not like Sandra Bullock. Sandra Bullock stars in All About Steve and The Proposal back-to-back and it's "The Year of Sandy." I haven't even seen The Blind Side and I have nothing bad to say about it, I just think this is really wrong. It is not the Year of Sandy. They should just go ahead and call it The Year of Jessica Biel because she starred in Planet 51 and appeared on Saturday Night Live as Jessica Rabbit.

If Meryl Streep was walking down the street and glanced at this issue of Entertainment Weekly on the newsstand and read the words "ULTIMATE GUIDE TO OSCAR: SANDRA VS. MERYL," she would probably fall over. I'm sure it wouldn't be mean-spirited or anything, but she's only human. That's what makes her such a great actress. She's MERYL. I will personally write Sandra Bullock a check for ten million dollars if she stars in a movie as Julia Child and gets an Oscar nomination. Yes, dueling Julia Child films. THEN it will be okay to say "Sandra vs. Meryl."

Not that I didn't love Miss Congeniality 2: Armed & Fabulous. But I don't think she got nominated for that one. Because the Oscars are SO UNFAIR.

Knowing

2010-02-04T04:59:00.000-08:00

I've learned a lot since I started my new job as an assistant editor. I thought I was somewhat knowledgeable about the Avid before, but I really wasn't. I certainly knew enough to edit, but I didn't know how much I didn't know about the program itself and what it's capable of. Right off the top of my head I could tell you 101 things I didn't know an assistant editor was responsible for before I started this job. And it's at least 101 times harder than I was expecting.

Actually, I take that back: it's not harder than I was expecting -- it's just more complicated. I don't want to say it's "hard" (even though it is) because, fortunately, this job and my brain are a match made in heaven. On my hardest ~~days~~ nights at this job, I still love it and I still look forward to showing up every single ~~day~~ night. On those bad nights, those miserable nights, those loooooooooong nights, the satisfaction of doing it keeps me eager to come back for more. It feels so good to learn!

So, as I've progressively become more and more knowledgeable about editing and assistant editing and post-production and whatnot, I've started to realize how much I've invested in this line of work. You'd think that would have occurred to me around, I don't know, the fifth season I worked on ANTM, but I spent most of that time -- and really, most of the time I've lived in LA -- standing at the bottom of different ladders and trying to figure out which one to climb. I want to be a writer. I want to be a producer. I want to work in movies. I want to work in television. Scripted. Unscripted. Pre-production. Post-production. None of it felt quite right.

The feeling I have now is like I finally chose my major. I'm 27 years old and I'm choosing a direction in my life, and I can almost hear that click every time I sit in front of the Avid, that's how perfectly this job fits me. I never even felt comfortable with the actual major I chose in college, so this is quite a new feeling.

Anyway, tonight I was just doing my thing, clicking around, pressing buttons, doing lots of things involving wires and machines that would give Dan night terrors, and I thought about the fact that when you choose you college major, you're committing to filling your brain with tons and tons of information on one topic. That's an amazing investment. I didn't even think about it that way before -- I just wanted to get out of those four years without everyone finding out that I wasn't actually smart, even though I pulled off amazing grades. It felt like a lie because I didn't enjoy studying or learning in that environment.

Now I'm filling my brain with so much information about Avid (and Final Cut, and media formats, and post-production in general) that I have to get rid of old information to make room for it all. I'm really committing to this. I know this is right. So that's why I don't mind the jacked sleep schedule, the long hours, the grunt work, the stress, and all the rest of it. It just makes me hungry for more. And there are people out there who feel this way about every field there is.

PASSION. Discuss.

Paranormal Activity: it works

2010-01-25T03:43:00.000-08:00

I have been avoiding Paranormal Activity since it came out. I have been avoiding news stories about it. I didn't watch a single trailer. We got an issue of Entertainment Weekly with the two stars on the cover and I would flip it over every time I passed it on the coffee table. I didn't even want to see their faces pretending to be scared for a photo shoot about their scary movie. It would ruin everything for me.

You see, I have a problem. I can't watch anything documentary-style because I can only see its fakeness. Maybe -- well, definitely -- it's because I've been working in reality television for the last four years. I've been a part of the process that turns real life into produced footage, which turns into millions of tiny pieces that gets reassembled in a thousand different ways to seem "real" when it's completely artificial. That's something you have to do even when you ARE maintaining strict integrity when it comes to the realness of what you're portraying. It must become fake to become real. THINK ABOUT IT.

So I guess it's just a side effect of my job that I have trouble watching documentaries, and it's even HARDER to buy into something fictional that's packaged to look real. There are plenty of great actors out there, but it takes a really unique quality to actually sell the spontaneity of human behavior when it's not really spontaneous. Are you still with me?

Okay, that's why I've been worried about seeing this movie. But it's not why I've been avoiding any shred of information about it for all these months, as its word-of-mouth campaign swelled and spread across the country until this teeny tiny little fright flick with no budget made over $100 million. It's because I really, REALLY wanted to be scared of this movie and I didn't even find out about its existence until way after I had missed the boat on ever thinking this movie was real.

So my one remaining strategy was to avoid it like crazy while everyone was buzzing about it, then watch it on my own to see what it was worth. No spoilers. No pretense of reality. Just the question, "Is it a scary movie or not?" I was prepared for either answer.

Well.

Um.

It scared the living shit out of me.

I watched it alone in the dark in the middle of the night, so I'm sure that helped. But the best thing about it was that my "FAKE! FAKE! FAKE!" alarm didn't go off. I would never have believed it was literally real, even if I had seen it before everyone knew for sure, but the acting was good and the scary scenes were REALLY scary. I'm not even going to talk about them in case you're like me and you've been waiting to see Paranormal Activity for yourself on DVD.

I watched the movie four hours ago and the only reason I haven't gone to sleep is because I'm so scared I think I will actually start whimpering. In fact, I started writing this blog entry because I was avoiding going to sleep. BECAUSE TERRIBLE THINGS HAPPEN WHEN YOU'RE ASLEEP.

Psycho made people afraid to take showers. Paranormal Activity has made me afraid to look at my own bed.

Already?!

2010-01-22T23:12:00.000-08:00

It's already been over a month since we left LA for the holidays? Seriously? I can't believe it.

The drive up to Redmond was epic. At 5 AM, after I had worked a full shift at work, Dan, David, the kitties, and I piled into the Mini Cooper with the declaration, "Okay, nobody fucking move for the next 20 hours."

Sometimes I have a hard time believe that different parts of this country are actually connected, since I usually get on an airplane and stuff happens for a lot of hours and suddenly I'm somewhere completely different. Anything could be happening for all I know. We could be flying through space towards the planet Jayeffkay and I wouldn't know the difference. All I know is when I get off the plane, I'm not nearly surprised enough to find myself thousands of miles away from where I just was.

The one huge relief about the drive home -- and the drive back -- was the lack of snow as we were driving through the mountains. The last thing we needed was to get stuck or have to take the coast (adding many, many extra hours) when there were three of us and two cats in the car. For their part, Bumble and Tove were little stoned angels all the way to Redmond. Seriously, they did not do a single thing except put their little arms around each other and look cute for the entire drive.

The two weeks we spent at my parents' house were exactly what I needed. Each passing day leading up to the holiday break drove me closer and closer to the edge. The night shift was making me crazy. I knew that this new schedule would prevent Dan and I from seeing each other as much, but I wasn't prepared for how depressing it is to live with the one you love and yet never, ever see them. Yuck.

So the holidays were a wonderful chance to relax, spend time with my family, and laugh at the cats as they figured out how to use stairs. They had NEVER encountered stairs before in their little lives. It was so cute to see them find new favorite spots and enjoy all the extra room to run around, or in Bumble's case run away from us anytime he saw humans approaching.

We literally didn't do anything but hang out with my parents in the kitchen and watch DVDs all night. And occasionally we would venture out of the house to see Avatar. We had a dance party in the basement, because that's what you do when you walk into the Rogge house -- you have a dance party in the basement. (And by the way, it's 2010 so it's officially okay to start planning for the next Club Fergie.)

When it was finally time to drive home, we loaded up the car and sadly noted all the extra room we had -- because David wasn't coming back with us. His ride back up to Redmond was him officially moving out of LA -- and preparing for his move to New Zealand scheduled for the end of this month. Yes, my brother is moving to New Zealand. Why? Because he fucking wants to. What better reason is there when you're unattached in your early 20s?

So Dan and I once again powered through and drove all the way back to LA in one trip. The cats were not as well-behaved this time, but thankfully not in any way that involved poop or pee or barf. Just lots of meowing and crawling all over Dan's body, which, let's face it, is an activity enjoyed by everyone living under our roof. What? At least we're not into Twilight.

Anyway, the month of January has barely existed to me. It's back to work, back to the night shift, back to being in debt after not getting paid for two weeks. BUT, in the good news column, Bumble's cone is off. For the moment, he's actually not scratching his flesh off and suffering from epic acne breakouts -- aside from a few bald patches that he pulled out of himself for no apparent reason, he's kinda sorta normal, almost.

2010 is going to be a great year. You'll see!

20 hours to Christmas

2009-12-19T01:28:00.000-08:00

It's 1:30 in the morning and I'm finishing up getting ready for a road trip involving three adults, two cats, and a Mini Cooper. Do you think this is a good idea? Wait, don't tell me until we're in Redmond.

This road trip is this year's solution to the annual problem of, "How can we arrange for our cats not to die while we're out of town for two weeks over the holidays?" Last year, my ~~good~~ saintly friend Saterah stopped by our apartment every few days to make sure Bumble and Tove had food and water. However, what you may not know about Bumble and Tove is that they subsist almost entirely on cuddles and snuggles and without someone around to administer those 24/7, they had turned the apartment upside every time Saterah stopped by.

(Don't worry, I know I'm not making the same mistake I made early in their lives, when I would frequently watch them scream and paw at me and say, "Ohhh, look how affectionate they are!" when I should have been saying, "Ohhh, they are completely out of food and I am a really bad pet owner.")

No, these kitties last about 30 minutes without full belly scratches before they start rolling around on the ground and purring like a lawnmower. It's actually somewhat disturbing now that Tove has learned to stand on his hind legs and make Shrek-cat-eyes that bore into my soul when I'm sitting at the computer. And Bumble, well, it's hard to resist scratching inside his cone when he can't do it himself. Yes, he's still in the damn cone and yes, he still needs it.

Anyway, these are the creatures with whom Dan and David and I will be spending a very intense 20 hours starting at 5 AM.

I'll let you know how it goes.

The shortest day of my life

2009-12-02T20:42:00.000-08:00

Since I started the new job, I've been on a night shift for the first time in two years. A lot has changed since I was a night logger. For one thing, this job takes a lot longer each night so I'm usually at work until about 5 AM, but that's not the part that's been difficult about adjusting to my new hours -- actually, my body has always taken comfortably to staying awake into those wee hours. I LOVE staying up all night. The hard part, I've discovered, is getting to sleep at the end of it all.

After work, it's always a race to get home and jump in bed because if I'm still awake when the sun comes up, it's all over. Then there's no way I'm getting to sleep before 9 AM because Dan's alarm goes off, he's getting ready, the sunlight is coming in through the windows, the cats are being all pathetic and begging for love, and all I can do is wait until Dan leaves for work and watch The Golden Girls until I doze off. Now don't get me wrong, The Golden Girls is a great show and that is why when I was recovering from the LASIK I watched every single episode ever made because Hallmark airs six of them every day and, well, I had no money. What would you do?!

Anyway, if I'm successfully in bed and actually fall asleep before sunrise (which doesn't happen NEARLY as often as I would like), it's a big win because at least my life is loosely adhering to a normal human routine of "going to sleep when it's night and waking up when it's day," even if I wake up at 2:30 PM. Those are the ~~good~~ great days.

Last night I was feeling pretty awesome because I was actually tired when I got into bed (that also pretty much never happens), and the last thing I remember before plunging into sleep was planning all the sweet errands I could run now that I could count on waking up earlier in the afternoon.

When I woke up, I felt REALLY groggy and wondered why I didn't feel better after a good ~~night's~~ ~~day's~~ ~~whatever~~ night's sleep. Everything was just a little... wrong. I went to the bathroom and looked at a clock and saw that it was 8:40 AM. WHAT. THE. FUCK.

The worst part was, I wasn't even tired anymore. It was like, that's my night of sleep. That's what I get to have. Thanks a lot, body.

So in my really crunk state of mind, I decided to turn on the TV and see if I could find something boring enough to make me tired again. Meanwhile, the din of garbage trucks and lawnmowers and the crying baby next door are making me feel pretty pessimistic. But I flicked over to HBO and saw that Gods and Generals was playing. Have you heard of that movie? It's this bloated Civil War epic starring Robert Duvall that tanked even though it's about history and looks boring and stars Robert Duvall and other stuff that probably made the filmmakers think it would win a bunch of Oscars.

But the very best part was, not only did I get to tune in from the very beginning of the film, but IT WAS IN SPANISH. Why is this so amazing? Because I had no freaking clue for the 10 minutes. That's because the first 10 minutes are just sloooooooowly fading opening titles over sloooooooowly waving flags while sloooooooow Civil War music (?) plays in the background. I just sat there completely mesmerized, thinking if I was watching this in a theater I would probably have walked out by now.

Then I'm looking at Robert Duvall as Robert E. Lee, and he's giving it all just with his face... and he opens his mouth... and it's a completely different voice speaking in Spanish. I almost fell off the couch. I was so surprised.

But the thing is, Gods and Generals in Spanish is actually a really incredible sleep aid because the next thing I remember -- and I mean this COMPLETELY LITERALLY, it is the NEXT THING I remember -- is waking up in bed and it's completely dark. It is NIGHTTIME. I slept ALL DAY. I slept so long, I was late to work. How the fuck does that happen when your shift starts at 7 PM?! I'll tell you how: Gods and Generals in Spanish.

Thank you, Ted Turner, for the shortest day of my life.

Flight bother

2009-11-30T01:24:00.000-08:00

I'm sitting in JFK waiting to board my flight back to LA. My flight here could have been really horrible, because I was stuck with a middle seat on a daytime flight, which, because I work a night shift, meant that I was wired to be asleep while everyone else would be awake and chatting and I imagined the person next to me would have a really crunk bladder and need me to get up every 10 seconds. Fortunately, I got to the airport early enough to change my assignment to a sweet window seat with an empty spot next to me so I could even stretch out my legs. HOLIDAY MIRACLES ARE REAL.

Anyway, the flight back has been a concern of mine since I booked this trip because I couldn't choose a seat online, and when I called they said I couldn't do it over the phone either. I would have to get a seating assignment when I checked in for the flight. That's just really awesome because this flight is leaving at 6:25 AM and it wasn't AWESOME enough that I would have to leave the house at 4 AM -- I left at 3 AM instead because I wanted to make damn sure I got a seat on this flight and didn't get bumped to standby thanks to overbooking. Who knows if I'm being ridiculous about this, because I've never not had a seat assignment this late in the process.

So now I'm at the airport crazy early, and when I checked in -- with my no checked luggage, because I am an awesome traveler -- I STILL couldn't choose a seat! I didn't even get a real boarding pass, just a little slip that instructed me to proceed to the gate and receive a seating assignment from an agent. Well, that's just great because it's the middle of the damn night and all these mythical agents are obviously still in bed because they're lazy and don't realize that I don't have a fucking seat assignment. So I might as well have left at 4:30 AM anyway, or just called everyone I know to inform them that I've moved in with Dan's parents because I'm clearly never getting out of here.

Also, to even get on the internet to post this, I was forced to watch a Bank of America video showing me how to deposit checks at an ATM because apparently many of their customers were cryogenically frozen before automated tellers existed and were just thawed out YESTERDAY. Watching this video was in exchange for 20 minutes of complimentary wi-fi which, by the way, ran out while I was typing this so I guess I will be posting this either from my apartment in LA when everything has been sorted out and I feel silly for worrying so much, or after Steven Spielberg makes a movie about me starring Tom Hanks and Catherine Zeta-Jones. (I really hope I'm played by Catherine Zeta-Jones.)

I'm so tired.

UPDATE: I got another free 20 minutes by watching a video depicting a woman using online banking. It was literally just a shot of her sitting in front of a laptop and smiling. She must be that happy because she got to choose her seat assignment online two months ago. What a bitch.

UPDATE: Watching the damn video didn't get me another 20 minutes at all. How is it possible that wi-fi isn't free in all airports by now? WHY DON'T I HAVE A SEAT ASSIGNMENT?!

UPDATE: Yeah, I'm posting this from home. I made it! And I didn't get my seat assignment until 4 minutes before boarding, and the lady was a huge jerk about it. Thanks, American Airlines. YAY I AM HOME.

That grateful time of year

2009-11-26T06:34:00.000-08:00

Where do I start? Apparently I just don't have the energy to keep up a full-time blog anymore. I've been trying to fight it and update once in a while for the last couple of years, but it's been pushed to the very back burner by everything I guess I'm supposed to be writing about. And ever since I discovered editing, it's become less important to me to write anything on a regular basis. Writing is always something I've done, but when I found editing I think I realized what it feels like to do what you're supposed to do, that thing that your brain naturally excels at and wants to do all the time and it never feels like a struggle. Writing always felt like a struggle to me and I guess you could say the first thing I'm thankful for this Thanksgiving is the fact that creatively, I've found my way so definitively that a certain part of my mind is at ease when I look at the rest of my life stretching before me. I have a better idea of what that future looks like because I have something I'm good at, that fulfills me and makes me happy, and IT CAN ACTUALLY BE MY CAREER.

At work, they moved me from ANTM to a different show where I'm an assistant editor for the first time! This was after I spent pretty much this entire year badgering them to give me this chance even though I had no training and really no experience aside from editing my own videos at home. By the end of Cycle 13, I was incredibly discouraged. I was beginning to think it would never happen. How would I ever make that leap? One job didn't lead to the other. I was transferring career ladders entirely. I've been an assistant editor for about a month now. When I think about my last job, I have to cover my face and shake off the feeling that this might all be a dream and I'll be back in that place where I know what I want but it's always just out of my reach. Being an assistant editor is not exactly glamorous or prestigious, but it makes me happy and I am good at it and I am beyond grateful that my boss gave me this opportunity. Not to mention all those ANTM editors who took time out of their days to listen to me, answer my dumb questions, offer me guidance, and generally take an interest in me when they didn't have to.

And then -- I'm not sure if this counts as "thankful" because I'm the one who made it happen -- I finally got LASIK surgery and don't wear glasses anymore! And you know what, I really AM thankful for that because, well, who isn't thankful for steady employment these days? I can't believe I was able to save up enough money to make it happen, especially since I was unemployed for the month directly following the surgery. So maybe I didn't eat three meals a day or do anything fun outside of the house during that period (that period, in fact, lasting until this very moment) (and probably continuing until the new year), but it did allow me to relax and heal properly and edit my documentary about mine and Dan's trip to Oregon earlier this year.

So this Thanksgiving, I am possibly more thankful than I have ever been before. The whole year has been one journey of self-discovery after another. Dan and I are stronger than ever. We have the same last name now. We are family. I'm at Dan's parents' house now and everyone under this roof is my family too. I'm thankful for my wonderful friends, with whom I've been through so much this year. Thankful for the cats and how cute they are even though they're too stupid to know it's Thanksgiving today. Thankful for all the growing up I've done this year, and all the valuable lessons I've learned the hard way -- the best way.

I'm glad there is a holiday devoted to just feeling thankful, because if I didn't get to write something like this once a year my heart would probably explode with all the love and gratitude I feel for these incredible people in my life. Have a great day, everyone! Happy Thanksgiving!

The worst movie ever made

2009-09-04T14:59:00.000-07:00

A few months ago, we were sitting around talking about Leelee Sobieski -- as we frequently do -- and discussing the fact that, in the end, water found its own level and she was never really taken seriously as an actress. She starred in a lot of movies, and a lot of people know her name, but one glance at her resume confirms the fact that she peaked with the role of "Milich's daughter" in Eyes Wide Shut back in 1999.

Since then, The Slow Roll has observed Leelee consistently outdo her own badness in such films as Here On Earth, My First Mister, The Glass House, In a Dark Place, The Wicker Man, The Elder Son, In the Name of the King: A Dungeon Siege Tale (seriously), 88 Minutes, Walk All Over Me, and Night Train. (Oh, and don't forget her deleted scene from London, where she put on her very frenchiest French accent just in time to get cut from the movie.) These films are all hysterically bad and I urge you to buy or rent them right now for the long weekend.

But a few months ago, we were just wondering where the hell she went. Has she been in anything lately? Anything? Does she have any upcoming films? Because although the movie industry seemed to catch on pretty damn fast that she was a dud, we figured there must be tiny independent productions out there that would be happy if they got someone as famous as Leelee Sobieski (you know, Milich's daughter). So we just looked her up, and discovered all these crunk recent titles that we bought online IMMEDIATELY. That's how we found such gems as Night Train, The Elder Son, etc. We had our own Leelee film festival and it was the best weekend of our lives. YES.

But there's one movie I haven't mentioned yet. One movie we discovered that weekend that took the fucking prize. Like, the ultimate prize of Worst Movie EVER Made. And believe me, we've done the research. At this point, The Slow Roll has watched over 300 bad movies. And until now, one movie -- London -- has always reigned supreme as the worst of them all. But all that has changed now that we discovered... LYING.

Lying is a really poor movie. It's shot poorly, acted poorly, and if it had even been written at all, I would say it was written poorly. And it actually stars people you've probably heard of: Chloë Sevigny, Jena Malone, and of course, Milich's daughter. Here is what happens in Lying. Are you ready? Here it is:

nothing

Wasn't that incredible? Wasn't that so artistic and meaningful? That's right, four babes spend a weekend in the country with indulge in lots of poorly improvised dialogue and shitty camerawork. IT'S MIND-BENDING. There has never been a movie this pretentious, ever. Seriously. I dare any of you to rent this movie and sit through the whole thing without clawing out your eyeballs. You know what helps? Tons of marijuana. Sorry everyone, but it's the truth and every newspaper in the world should be reporting it on the front page every single day. And the best part is, Leelee is so far from the worst thing about this movie, it's not even funny. EXCEPT IT IS. VERY FUNNY.

The point is, I love this movie. Watching it for the first time was like a zoologist discovering a unicorn. IT IS PERFECTION. The worst movie ever made was just out there, being watched by no one -- after playing at the Cannes Film Festival, by the way -- and we totally found it. And do you know want to know the very, very best part?

IT'S COMING OUT IN THEATERS ON 9/11!

That's right, after being made in 2006 and going straight to DVD last May, now it's going to play in theaters. I honestly can't bring myself to watch the trailer, but here it is.

If it's coming soon to a theater near you, I urge you not to miss this one. I can promise you I'm going to bring everyone I know to see Lying on the big screen on opening night. I want this movie to make $100 million. I LOVE IT.

Am I lying? See for yourself... this 9/11.

Another September

2009-09-03T17:35:00.001-07:00

A lot of people can't believe it's September already. I felt that way about the summer-- "I can't believe it's summer again! I can't believe it's July! I CAN'T BELIEVE IT'S AUGUST AND CALIFORNIA IS ON FIRE AGAIN." But for some reason, I can totally believe it's September. I welcome September.

2009 has been such a big year for me. At work, as I completed my fifth and started my sixth season on ANTM, the highs got higher and the lows got lower. But I wouldn't trade any of it, because at this point in my life, everything helps me grow (and grow up). I'm proud of the fact that I have no regrets, professionally or in any other area of my life. I wouldn't change anything that I've lived through so far. I guess the trick is keeping it that way-- something that I imagine gets harder as the ratio of "life lived" to "life to live" slowly but steadily increases.

This summer, Dan and I went through the process of legally changing his last name to mine. It was a big step, but it didn't feel like it, and I mean that in the best way. We've been talking about this since last year, but there was just that one day where we looked at each other and said, "Isn't it dumb that we don't have the same last name just because we're not allowed to marry?" We've spent three years building our relationship to the point where this was an easy decision. We don't have thoughts about the future that don't include each other. None. When I am 200 years old and slow rolling Easy Virtue 12: Larita Goes To Hell, Dan will be 207 years old sitting next to me drawing Jessica Biel in our 207th Slow Roll Bible. It's just the truth.

Of course part of me is upset about the fact that Dan and I couldn't get married "for real," but there is nothing real about a marriage except what you bring to it. And since Dan and I are as utterly and crazily devoted to each other as two human beings can be, this is certainly real enough for me. The ceremony and reception can wait. The commitment is real, and undeniable. Prop 8 can go fuck itself. Dan and I are a family now.

For me, September always brings a feeling that the year is almost over. It brings back memories of school starting, followed by Halloween, followed by Thanksgiving, followed by Christmas, and finally, a brand new year (quickly followed by a brand new age, since my birthday is in January). But I like that feeling. It's accompanied by a feeling of accomplishment for everything I've worked on, and worked for, since the year began. It's comforting when the end is in sight. It fills me with nostalgia and anticipation at the same time.

Yeah, I really like September. And so far, I'm really digging 2009, and I look forward to all the amazing things that will happen as it winds down and eventually gives way to 2010... a whole new 12 months of possibilities.

Coco Avant Chanel

2009-08-26T17:32:00.000-07:00

Last night I went to a screening of the new French movie Coco Avant Chanel, a biopic about legendary fashion designer Gabrielle "Coco" Chanel, before she became her legendary self. It was a really good movie and anyone who appreciates lush period costumes in movies is going to FLIP when they see this.

More on that when I write up the full review for Moviepie...

When the logos were coming up at the beginning of the movie, one guy in the back snorted with disgust, "Ugh, not another Warner Bros. movie." It kinda made me wonder why he had such beef with Warner Bros. I wonder if he walked out of the screening room saying, "Wow, I totally loved Coco Avant Chanel but I am still STEAMING that it's another Warner Bros. movie!"

Since everyone in that room was a movie reviewer, maybe I can find his review of Coco Avant Chanel somewhere on the web by looking for any one that docked the film two stars for being distributed by Warner Bros.

I mean come on, look at this! Warner Bros. is great. See, they make the Harry Potter movies, Where The Wild Things Are, The Dark Knight... although I also see they were responsible for Lady in the Water and the Wicker Man remake.

Or maybe this guy is one of those people who was REALLY disappointed by the Sex and the City movie. CLEARLY HE IS NOT ANYONE I KNOW.

Undercover barfer

2009-08-25T12:14:00.001-07:00

When you own a cat, sometimes you find barf on the floor. That happens a lot in our house, maybe because we have two of them, or maybe because one of them is a cone-headed mutant who is fucked up in so many different ways that we never really thought twice about the fact that sometimes he just hurls for no reason. OR SO WE THOUGHT.

While Bumble was enjoying some supervised "no cone" time on the couch with me and Dan last night, a fresh pile of barf appeared in the hallway. So this one, at least, WASN'T Bumble's fault. I had a really guilty flashback to all the times that I found barf around our apartment and screamed, "GOD DAMMIT, BUMBLE!" and "TOVE NEVER DOES STUFF LIKE THIS! LOOK, HE'S PERFECT!" and then I pick up Tove and give him kisses while Bumble watches and cries into the cone.

Well, Tove is not perfect. And I felt really bad because I had totally convinced myself that he's as awesome as Bumble is terrible. How could I not? After all, Tove never gets chin acne, he never self-mutilates, he doesn't compulsively tear our his fur, he doesn't get ear infections, and best of all, he doesn't need a fucking cone. Doesn't he sound great? Way better than Bumble.

I have to come to grips with the fact that Tove isn't actually perfect. I mean, he did pee in my car once, and it still smells awful over two years later. And Tove has a really gross hobby of standing in the toilet with his paws in the water (so we always make sure the lid is down).

Anyway, that's what I'm thinking about today.

Anyway...

2009-08-24T13:30:00.000-07:00

Hi.

Hot hot hiatus

2009-04-20T22:34:00.000-07:00

At last, I've completed another season on ANTM, and I am back in the loving arms of my good friend hiatus. Not that I don't acutely appreciate how lucky I am to still have a job in today's troubled economic times, but I think I would go crazy without these built-in breathers to properly tackle projects like spring cleaning (something I enjoy with our without the participation of spring).

Speaking of spring, LA has been generous enough to actually HAVE one this year, rather than plunging into another cruel summer right after my birthday (January 20) like every other year I've lived here. In fact, the last few months have been a glorious combination of beautiful sunshine with that lingering chilliness that makes me want to spend all my time outside. I got to wear long sleeves. I NEVER GET TO WEAR LONG SLEEVES!

And then, without any warning, BAM. The temperature suddenly leaps into the mid-90s (that's Fahrenheit -- not "the mid-90s" like when Nicolas Cage was still a good actor), and it has to coincide exactly with the first day I'm spending at home with no air conditioning instead of working.

I know I'm lucky to have gotten spring at all, and I'm very grateful for the psychological load off it's been not to feel trapped in my apartment by prohibitively hot weather. But that weather is back, and now I feel like an idiot for spending the last three months thinking, "Maybe this could work... forever?"

When it gets this hot, the cats don't even play anymore. We call them "flat cats." They just melt into fuzzy puddles on the floor, usually in a synchronized fashion that makes me think they're at least intelligent enough to mess with me. (But then I see Bumble licking his cone from the inside and I know they're actually as intelligent as the couch they're sitting on.) I, too, spent my day as a flat cat, sprawled in an unmoving puddle, unable to muster even enough concentration to watch TV.

Right now would be a great time to REM out with some juicy hiatus-style Z's, but that's SO not happening since it's still 88°F in our apartment. However, I should also point out that it's not supposed to stay this hot for much longer, although eventually the heat will come back and stay back. Right now I'm simply suffering from a case of meteorological whiplash.

2 cats, 1 cone

2009-04-07T11:01:00.000-07:00

First of all, here are some things you should know:

Dan and I have two cats, Bumble and Tove. Here they are:

Bumble is the orange one. He has a skin condition that flares up periodically, and so far, several vets AND a kitty dermatologist (a dermatologist for animals -- not a cat wearing a lab coat) have utterly failed to identify the cause or offer any permanent solution. But every few months, Bumble will start itching uncontrollably and the result is Bumble Bloodface, as he scratches the skin off most of his face. That's when he gets temporary medicine as well as the following stylish cone:

Since we've more or less learned to control the situation by swiftly applying the cone and plenty of medicine at the first sign of danger, Bumble now spends relatively little of his life as a scabby, miserable creature of darkness. The ear drops aren't his favorite, but fortunately his brain is the size of a peanut so he forgets all about it a few minutes later.

Right now, Bumble is in excellent condition and he's looking cuter than ever in his little cone. But we still don't take it off until he's been healthy for a little while, just to be safe.

All of which brings us to this morning, when Bumble and Tove are engaged in the usual routine: sitting around and looking at us like they're expecting us to say something. But this time I look down and something is different. Bumble is totally heaving, like he does right before he vomits (which he does because he has this adorable habit of gorging himself until he pukes). But this has never happened with the cone on, so I have about 2 seconds to think, OH NO! before Bumble starts filling the cone with barf.

Well I have never seen anything like this in my life. Immediately I tug the cone of Bumble's head, to let him finish blowing chunks. So I'm holding barf cone in one hand, and restraining Bumble with the other hand -- because with the cone off, he's already trying to scratch his face off. Obviously I need to wash the cone and get it back on Bumble's head ASAP. But while I'm WASHING BARF OFF THE CONE, and clutching a struggling cat in my other hand, Tove bounds up and joyfully chows down on the floor barf.

I pretty much had to let him do it. For one thing, he was helping clean up. I have to give him credit for that, because it's more than Bumble does around here. Also, both my hands were occupied, and if I didn't finish cleaning barf cone I was probably going to barf too.

Eventually, I finished washing the cone, cleaned Bumble's barf face, put the cone back on, and Tove got full. Just kidding, I made him stop EATING HIS BROTHER'S VOMIT so I could ~~clean up the floor~~ make Dan clean the floor.

So anyway, that's why we're giving the cats $20 and dropping them off at the Greyhound station. I mean come on. We know each other way too well now -- it's pretty much impossible to come back from this. Nice knowing you, Bumble and Tove!

Where am I?

2009-03-07T16:16:00.000-08:00

I keep forgetting what country I live in. You see, I thought America was that place where people are free to live how they want to as long as it's not hurting anyone. People have different values, but America is where people originally came to BE different. Am I wrong?

So how come I turn on the TV and see this documentary about how people think Barack Obama is literally the antichrist? How come people who consider themselves the "most" American just LOOOOVE crapping all over diversity and freedom? Lately I've been less angry and more confused about what goes on in people's heads when they feel so threatened by our differences.

And then, this afternoon, I hear the chants from an anti-Prop 8 rally happening less than one block from where I live. And I can't believe that people have to get together a chant to show that they deserve to get married if they're consenting adults in love. It's embarrassing that this topic is even on the table. Have I said this before? Why isn't this obvious to everyone else?

I'm not telling anyone not to be straight. Why are you telling anyone not to be gay? What country is this where there could be a law taking away civil rights? Is this about religion? If so, how does the law get involved in the first place? If you don't like gay marriage, don't have one. Why isn't it that simple? Why is my love life up for moral evaluation by people I don't even know? How is any of this American at all?

Where am I?

Catching up to Oscar

2009-02-16T11:29:00.000-08:00

At the end of 2008, I was totally appalled at how few of this year's "Oscar movies" I had seen. The nominations hadn't come out yet, but I hadn't seen ANYTHING besides Milk, Slumdog Millionaire, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, and Frost/Nixon.

This year, no top 10 list.

It comes as no surprise to anyone that this year, for the first time, I saw more bad movies in theaters than good movies: Star Wars: The Clone Wars, The Bucket List, Fool's Gold, Babylon A.D., The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor, etc. And believe me, I wouldn't trade in any of our Slow Roll field trips (except for Star Wars: Crunk Wars), which liven up a dull work week like magic.

When the Oscar nominations did come out, I was relieved to find that I'd actually seen four of the five Best Picture nominees. But Dan and I decided to embark on a mission to see every Oscar nominee in ANY category before the winner are announced on February 22nd. We've done a pretty good job so far.

Here is the list of post-New Year viewing, ranked in order of favorite to least favorite (although I actually liked them all):

Waltz With Bashir
Doubt
The Reader
Man On Wire
Tropic Thunder
Hellboy II: The Golden Army
Rachel Getting Married
Kung Fu Panda - Not the throwaway I was expecting. The visuals are breathtaking enough to stand up to Wall-E.
Revolutionary Road
The Wrestler - Dan saw this without me and was not impressed.

We have exactly one week left, and my top priorities are Vicky Cristina Barcelona, The Visitor, Changeling, and Trouble The Water.

I'm guessing we'll only get around to one or two of those before Sunday, but it has certainly been a rewarding couple of months of moviegoing! Soon we'll be fast-forwarding through the Oscar ceremony, feeling awesome that we actually know what's going on, and we can finally feel okay about going on a Slow Roll field trip to see Madea Goes To Jail.

Wordle

2009-02-09T16:12:00.000-08:00

This website takes any amount of text you plug in (OR draws text from your website) and turns it into a word cloud based on the number of times each word is used. It's really, really pretty, and ridiculously customizable. You should try it.

Hotel Carter

2009-01-28T16:13:00.000-08:00

Today in our office, Jenica and Saterah and I were discussing the pros and cons of our desk arrangement. Last season, Jenica and I switched desks so she could have her back to the corner, because she was getting tired of people commenting on her computer screen when they walked past.

Now Jenica has the most private computer screen in the room. So Saterah jokingly asked, "What do you have on there that you don't want anyone to see?"

"Well," she said, "Right now I'm reading customer reviews for a terrible hotel in New York City."

That was definitely not what I was expecting to hear. But as soon as she started reading excerpts from the reviews out loud, I understood what an AMAZING activity this was! It was like slow rolling a hotel.

You guys should really take a look. It only gets funnier the worse it gets. And here are some of my favorite headlines from the 787 customer reviews (most of which I've read by now):

“The worse nightmare of your life!”
- sunlvr2288

“Horrible hotel!!! Horrible Horrible Horrible....Stay Away If You Love Yourself”
- cvbabygurl617

“HorrondeousDisgustingYuckTerrible!!”
- alysha781

“The worst hotel ever...hospital for 10 days!!!”
- SMETA

“The worst hotel I have ever stayed in”
- carterhater

“OMG don't stay here!!!!!!!!!!”
- Toochi721

“The pictures on the web page are false!!!”
- Hallplace

“omg”
- shabba1964

“the worst hotel I have ever stayed”
- kingkingking2008

“Never again hotel Carter”
- Sallos

“Awful place”
- Sonia_Garcia

“blood slurping bed bugs”
- DinkieDi

“Hotel Nightmare”
- kapanalig97

“absolute filth”
- novotnaquinton

“Someone MURDERED while I was there”
- glowfish59

“The smell, the smell, the NASTY smell!!!!!”
- BeautyK

“stop moaning everyone it's fine”
- nycddddddddddddddd

“I stayed up all night rather than sleeping in the bed”
- theredwonder

“The dirtiest hotel in the world”
- Duffy01

“this place should be condemed”
- ErinfromSR

“a nighmare!!”
- Brianna8

“WORST EXPERIENCE”
- RelSexiAngel04

“The homeless would not stay at this hotel”
- Boosteri

“No, No, No. No!!”
- 5485

“Loveed the Hoel Carter ................................NOT!!!!!!!!!!”
- turtlechick411

“Hell Hole is a understatment”
- fairway1

“Get Carter shut down”
- Vanderlurken

“Save Yourself!! Stay AWAY!!!!”
- Friedgirl

UPDATE: After reading the full text of the "Someone MURDERED while I was there" review, Jenica discovered this.

UPDATE 2: DAN HAS STAYED AT THIS HOTEL. Follow-up entry to come.

The morning of my 26th birthday

2009-01-20T08:38:00.000-08:00

It's the morning of my birthday, and in 20 minutes Barack Obama will be sworn in as the 44th President of the United States.

Sure, I'd be happier if Barack Obama was becoming the President AND I was free to marry my boyfriend, but this is pretty frickin' awesome and I am proud of my country all over again.

Thanks, America! This is the best birthday present EVER.

Christmas giveth and taketh away

2008-12-22T13:26:00.000-08:00

Every year, I wish for a white Christmas. Not for everyone in my family to be white, because that would be racist. I wish for SNOW.

I guess it's because we don't usually get snow around Seattle, or because I've spent the last four years in a city where the sunshine beats down my soul well into December every year. But I LOVE snow. I still think it's magical. It softens the sharp edges of the world, makes them clean and round and bright. If it snows enough, you can't even leave the house and there is something comforting about that.

This year, it seems like Santa decided to mess with everyone and give them a REALLY white Christmas. Like, such a white Christmas that flights are delayed and canceled and catching fire on the runway. It's magical, yes, but it's messing up a lot of peoples' Christmases. Including my family's.

My brother Andrew lives in San Francisco. He was supposed to fly in the night of the same day me, David, and Dan flew into Seattle. But almost as soon as the three of us landed, they started canceling all flights into Seattle. This is great because Dan almost had to fly in a few days later because of work, and if that had been the case he probably would never have made it (meeting us in New York instead). But it's really sad because Andrew's flight was canceled and while he received a full refund, he couldn't book a new flight until Christmas Day, so we won't see him until 11 PM that night.

In the meantime, we are still trying to enjoy our time as an incomplete family. It's wonderful to be home, and the weather is a welcome change from the blue skies of LA (even though it's raining there now). But this white Christmas has come at a price.

Stuff, things, etc.

2008-12-05T10:37:00.000-08:00

Last night I went to a screening of a movie called Nothing But The Truth. It starred Kate Beckinsale as a journalist who outs a CIA agent and ends up going to jail for protecting her source. The movie wasn't very good, mostly because Kate Beckinsale sucks. It was especially painful to watch because her co-star was Vera Farmiga, who is good enough that she dies halfway through the movie and her devastating performance was still the ONLY thing I thought about for the remaining hour of the film.

The screening was at the CAA building in Century City. I haven't been there in almost two years. The last time I was there, I was interning at First Look Pictures, while also interning at International Arts Entertainment, AND working nights logging Deadliest Catch. I was driving 15+ hours a week just to get from job to job to job. It felt so weird to walk into that lobby again. It brought me back to a time in my life when I was much more stressed, and so scared.

Not that I have "made it big" since then, but a lot has changed. Now, I can walk to CAA from my apartment (not that I have much reason to visit CAA nowadays since, you know, not making it big and all). I'm not involved in the film industry AT ALL anymore, and it used to be my life (even though I was just a lowly assistant and sometimes intern).

Also, I haven't driven my car on a regular basis since January. I have only filled my gas tank four times in 2008. Of all the big changes that have reshaped my life in the last few years, spurning my automobile has been my second favorite (after moving in with Dan, of course). It's not just the hours PER DAY I've saved, but my overall stress level has joyfully nosedived since I moved to Westwood and started walking just about everywhere.

Anyway, those are lots of things that have been on my mind, because spending three seconds in the CAA lobby was more profound than Nothing But The Truth. Yikes!

Forgetting Sarah Palin

2008-11-21T13:34:00.000-08:00

Sarah Palin interviews while a turkey is violently slaughtered behind her.

Does this video remind anyone else of the epilogue in a Christopher Guest movie? The best part of those characters are the huge disparity between their aspirations and their talents. And in the end, they usually find themselves making the best of it in a position a little more appropriate... and the audience breathes a sigh of relief that they didn't go all the way. Ladies and gentlemen, I present Sarah Palin.

In fact, Sarah Palin's two month whirlwind assault on the intelligence of Americans everywhere has always reminded me a Christopher Guest character come to life. It's one of the only things that kept me from screaming every time election coverage would come on the television. It's just a joke, I told myself thousands of times. It's more inspired than Borat. (Not a Christopher Guest movie, but still.)

All those crunk interviews, revelations (she got her first passport when?!), and generally embarrassing behavior on a daily basis kept me alive for the last few weeks of the election. I know it sounds crazy, but I was comforted every time I saw her stupid face on TV. I thought, It's comedy. It's not real. EVEN REPUBLICANS WOULDN'T VOTE FOR HER, RIGHT? It's... genius.

What I'm trying to say is, Sarah Palin is the best. She's back in her comfort zone, where she belongs. Our brief national nightmare is over. And now we can breathe that sigh of relief, confident that she has already torn up her passport now that she knows you don't need one in order to see Russia from your backyard.

Family

2008-11-18T11:25:00.000-08:00

This year's Thanksgiving post.

My parents spent the weekend here in LA. They stayed in our apartment instead of getting a hotel, at my request, because I wasn't working and I wanted to see them as much as possible. Dan and I gave them the bedroom because I couldn't stand the thought of them roughing it in the living room with an air mattress. Meanwhile, David also missed our creators and decided to spend the entire weekend at our place. So we had five adults and two cats staying in a one bedroom apartment.

It went surprisingly well.

My parents are amazing. They wasted no time stocking the kitchen with ridiculous amounts of food, cooking up delicious meals, effortlessly making our home feel more like their home. David and I love going home to mom and dad's house. It's a place of warmth and happiness springing from how damn much we enjoy being around each other. I know it's totally gay. But I mean, 66% of their kids are gay, so what could be more appropriate?

On Saturday, Dan and David and I headed downtown to participate in the anti-Prop 8 rally. It was even bigger than the rally at the LDS temple, and the rally in Silverlake the week before. There were rallies in over 300 American cities, in all 50 states. Again, this is American history and we are proud to be part of it. We marched through the streets and our tens of thousands easily dwarfed the pitiful gathering of Prop 8 supporters who showed up to hold up signs like "GOD DOES NOT LOVE YOU JUST THE WAY YOU ARE."

There is so much anger in the air and it's because this movement is long overdue. We have had amazing success keeping these demonstrations peaceful considering their size, but we are angry. I guess opponents of gay marriage thought we would go down quietly. Certainly, the Mormon church has expressed surprise that the reaction to the passing of Prop 8 has been so extreme -- and I believe them. I believe they're surprised. Even I was surprised, at first. But it had to happen sometime, and after five seconds at my first protest, my only surprise was that this issue hasn't exploded sooner.

I have been surprised, and touched, by how much support we have from non-gays. But why should I be surprised by that? Did I really think that only us homos would fight for our equality? I guess I did. That's pretty sad. We're all people. We live together, we work together, we care about each other. Gays and straights. That's why I can't believe this is a political issue. There is no politics about it. Human decency means having respect for those around you, and believe me, gays are around you. Are there actually people out there who don't know that? Or can they really look their co-workers, friends, and family in the eye after voting away their civil rights?

Sadly, I guess many people forget what a wildly diverse range of households exist in America: different religions, different ethnic traditions, different foods, different parenting styles, you name it. Married parents, single parents, divorced parents. Families all over the country are different. I don't understand how America can justify singling out one kind of family and institutionalizing hatred against it. It seems mean and inappropriate, to say the least. Shameful. Un-American.

I mean... really? Really? We're at war, we're in economic recession, the environment is collapsing around us, and... this is what America is worried about? Preventing gay marriage? REALLY?

Every day I'm thankful for the way I was raised. My parents taught me to have respect for others, but also for myself -- and when I felt that my life partner should be a boy instead of a girl, I had to honor what my heart told me.

Now I am thankful to have a wonderful boyfriend who makes me happy every day, who has easily become part of my family over the last few years. And I'm thankful that I'm free to fight for the right to create my own family, although I'm disgusted that it needs to be fought for at all.

It's easy to still feel homesick even though I've made a home here with Dan. My parents swept in and brought the essence of their home with them to celebrate an early Thanksgiving with us (since David and I are staying in LA for the holiday this year).

Please, to anyone out there interested in "preserving" or "restoring" family, Christian or atheist, by banning gay marriage: Try making YOUR family the best it can be. Let the rest of us do the same. And keep your nosy nose out of MY family. Because we are doing just fine.

Australian invasion

2008-11-08T09:31:00.000-08:00

When I was in England a few weeks ago, I was lucky enough to watch a lot of great television. It's one of my favorite things about the UK. Their television is AMAZING. Even their trashy programming is way better than ours. Jerry Springer pales in comparison to Jeremy Kyle sitting on the stage and screaming angrily at his guests.

However, three of the best shows I watched this time were actually imported from Australia. And since one of them is premiering on HBO this weekend, I want to strongly urge you to check them out if you can.

Summer Heights High. Chris Lilley is a brilliant comedian who wrote, created, and stars as three characters in this high school mockumentary. It really is hysterically perfect. Mr. G, the drama teacher character, writes a fantastically offensive musical and one of the songs was remixed and became an actual chart hit in Australia. YOU WILL BELIEVE HE'S AN 8TH GRADE TONGAN BOY.

We Can Be Heroes: Finding The Australian of The Year. Before making Summer Heights High, Chris Lilley wrote, created, and stars as SIX characters in this mockumentary series about a selection of nominees for what I've just learned is an actual award. It's unbelievable just how believable he is, down to the smallest mannerisms. And if you like Summer Heights High when it premieres tomorrow, you might love this show even more.

Kath & Kim. If you think the American remake blows, don't shy away from the original series which is hilarious and strangely mesmerizing due to the way it's shot. It's like raw footage, with long unbroken takes that sometimes makes it feel like THE GREATEST REALITY SHOW EVER.

In conclusion, Australians are funny. And I couldn't be happier that HBO decided to air Summer Heights High as it is instead of remaking it as an American production. Who knows? If it's a hit in the States, maybe we'll be lucky enough to get a second series.

When can we vote on YOUR marriage?

2008-11-07T12:48:00.000-08:00

We showed up to the rally a little early. The LDS temple is literally a block away from my apartment, so we could hear people getting started even as we walked out the door.

Very quickly, over a thousand people had shown up. They were angry, but peaceful. We held up signs and marched around the perimeter of the temple. I can't quite describe the feeling, but I'd never taken part in something like this before. It was incredibly moving to see so many people so outraged over this issue.

It's not just me. It's not just my friends. We're not alone, and it's not just gay people. The passing of Prop 8 was such a violation that thousands of protesters all over the state have taken to the streets. Anyone raised with a sense of right and wrong should know this is worth fighting against.

I thought it would be over by the evening, but it only got more intense. After dark, the crowd was still going strong. Plenty of cops had shown up, including a truck full of riot control officers. A Prop 8 supporter showed up to start a fight and spit in a girl's face. A nearby police officer refused to do anything about it. Nice.

After going home, we could still hear the protester's cheers and the endless waves of car honks signaling their support. In fact, almost every vehicle that passed (when we weren't blocking traffic) had a honk, a thumbs up, or a cheer of support to offer out the window. Did all of these people really get out and vote no on Prop 8? How did this happen?

I remember the last of the supportive car honks drifting in through our window at around 11 PM. It was nice to hear a continual reminder that it wasn't over. It still isn't over. Not by a long shot.

A time to protest

2008-11-06T10:00:00.000-08:00

The West Hollywood rally against Prop 8 last night was amazing to see. I'm disappointed I was only able to watch it on the news. HOWEVER...

Today there will be another protest outside the Los Angeles LDS temple, located at 10777 Santa Monica Blvd. between Westwood Blvd. and Beverly Glen. It starts at 2pm. Please show up if you can. I will see you there.

This is American history happening RIGHT NOW. In 50 years our country will be ashamed of itself for allowing this to happen... but only if we make it clear that THIS IS NOT ACCEPTABLE.

We did it... sort of

2008-11-05T10:36:00.000-08:00

Last night, Barack Obama was elected the next President of the United States. It's the first time I've really paid attention to an election -- in 2004, I was living in Scotland and all I knew was, my country was an international punchline and there was no way the American people would let it happen again. I was confident enough to pretty much ignore the process entirely (after voting, of course). And then this happened.

So, I am just young enough to barely remember the last time our government wasn't a circus of bozos whose main accomplishment was keeping The Daily Show spoiled for Bushism montages. Oh, not to mention running our economy into the ground, lying about multiple wars, and inspiring an Oliver Stone movie. THANKS A LOT, George.

I believe Barack Obama is not messing around when it comes to change. The hope he inspires in us should remind us how long it has been since we felt such a thing for our country. It's easy to imagine him going down as one of America's greatest Presidents just by the way he speaks about working together, healing together, and putting aside our differences to make our nation great. It's incredible what he's accomplished just by getting elected, but we're only at the beginning.

That's the story of how, last night, I was inspired to believe in America again. But it wouldn't last. Because in the same night that we elected the first black President, California voters passed Prop 8 eliminating marriage for same-sex couples. Because at a time when America finally seems ready to set aside our petty differences, and come together to elect a man President who at one point would not have been allowed to vote in this country, at least everyone can agree that we hate queers.

The passing of Prop 8 sours this entire experience for me. Electing a great leader as our next President doesn't feel like a monumental achievement anymore. Many of you, like us, could hear vocal support for Obama up and down the street from our home. Out there, people believed in what was right and I was one of them.

But, as it turns out, most of those people still hate me and my partner. They love their new black President, but faggots don't count as real people yet. Undoubtedly, gays are part of their circle of family and friends. Even Sarah Palin stood in front of America and proclaimed that she had gay friends, but she did not believe in same-sex marriage. First of all, Sarah Palin is lying. She does not have any gay friends. Please.

Second of all, if you have friends or family members who are gay, and you voted to pass Prop 8, you should be ashamed of yourself. And if you don't know a single gay person, you shouldn't have voted on Prop 8 at all because it is obviously none of your business. Same-sex marriage has been legal in California for 4 months -- can anyone honestly step forward and argue that it threatened their heterosexual marriage? We don't put a single iota of effort into illegitimizing your partnerships. It would only be decent to show us the same courtesy, thank you very much.

Last night was indeed historic, and incredibly emotional. I am thrilled and relieved that Barack Obama will be the next President of the United States, and I'm not suggesting that the passing of Prop 8 undoes that victory. But I'm not filled with hope anymore. I have hope for the future, and I believe that Obama will do great things with his Presidency. But this is a harsh reminder that America has a long way to go, and the change we hope for is not actually here yet.

From Orlando to LA: a crunk journey's end

2008-10-31T11:58:00.000-07:00

To make a long story short, I'm not at the airport anymore. Nor am I on a plane, waiting to get a on a plane, waiting to get off a plane, or taking my suitcase into the bathroom with me when I need to go. I AM HOME, yo.

I spent the night enjoying a series of 30-60 minute naps that consistently ended when the neck pain was too much to sleep through and I had to lean my head to the other side. Each time, the same thought flashed through my addled brain: NOOOOOO I CAN'T BE AWAKE FOR THE DAY YET! I don't know if this happens to you, but I can reach a point of sleep deprivation where it's almost impossible for me to actually sleep. Plus, theoretically the jet lag should have gotten me "up for the day" around 3 AM EST.

I woke up (for good) around 5:30 AM and it's possible that I have never felt dirtier. When I saw myself in the bathroom mirror I understood why the first thing I saw when I looked around my hobo nest was a woman obviously debating whether to alert the authorities that a crackhead had infiltrated the terminal. It's rare that you literally don't recognize yourself in the mirror, but there it was.

Things started looking up as soon as I was in Delta's hands: I successfully checked in, and it wasn't long before I realized I had an entire row to myself. In a conscious effort to achieve new heights of classiness, I spread myself across three seats and tried to take advantage of this awesome opportunity to snooze away the 5 1/2-hour flight.

No luck there. But it was a pretty easy flight simply for knowing I wouldn't have to play any more "Do-It-Yourself Amazing Race" at the end of it.

Ultimately, when it came to planning this trip, I reneged on one of my two rules about flying:

1. NEVER, EVER deal with connecting flights. If it's not a direct flight, it is not an option. I took a chance this time and it totally screwed me. Lesson learned.

2. NEVER, EVER check luggage. Many have tried to sway me from this one, but the fact is, just the THOUGHT of how much more stressful this would have been with a checked bag in EITHER direction makes me want to anxiety barf, so... GAH.

Now that I'm finally home, having showered for about 45 minutes, probably scrubbing off several layers of skin with all the grime, the rage is finally subsiding. There are two cats in my lap and real food in my tummy. IT'S TIME FOR SLEEP NOW.

From Bristol to Orlando: the day that everything sucked sucks

2008-10-30T17:17:00.001-07:00

Fuck you, Virgin Atlantic. Fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you. FUCK YOU. I can’t believe I fell for your shiny red bullshit. In retrospect, I see there were signs. Sure, you fast-tracked me to London sans layover, BUT ONLY BECAUSE THE ORIGINAL FLIGHT WAS DELAYED 24 HOURS. We’re over, Virgin Atlantic, and I will never let you back in my life.

It didn’t start well, either.

3:09 AM. Finally fall asleep for the night.

5:00 AM. Wake up for the day.

5:45 AM. Start driving to Reading.

7:35 AM. Miss the train to Gatwick airport by 1 minute.

8:34 AM. Catch the next train to Gatwick, scheduled to arrive only an hour before my flight takes off.

10:00 AM. Arrive at Gatwick, tear through security.

10:24 AM. Find out my flight is delayed 2 1/2 hours... the exact duration of my layover.

1:45 PM. Flight finally takes off. I am seated next to every crying baby in England, AND in the middle of the center row, not the window seat as confirmed when I purchased the ticket.

Mid-flight. I am delighted to learn we are scheduled to land early enough for me to easily catch my second flight!

6:35 PM. I learn that the clock displayed on the flight has failed to recognize last week’s Daylight Savings change. Which means my second flight takes off in 10 minutes.

7:05 PM. I make it through customs and learn I have missed my flight and there are no more flights to LA tonight.

I’m booked to fly out tomorrow, which will bring my eventual transit time to about 36 hours.

Later, I will probably realize that even the suckitude of these events is no match for what an amazing trip I’ve just experienced... but right now I still feel like setting fire to the next person who makes eye contact with me, so I will fill you in when I get home.

BONUS POINTS
1. Celebrity sighting in London! Rob Brydon walked very close to me on the way to his gate... AWESOME! (Doubly awesome for him because HIS FLIGHT PROBABLY TOOK OFF ON TIME.)
2. Free wireless internet at the Orlando airport.

Boosh Live '08!

2008-10-28T14:32:00.000-07:00

Tonight I had the privilege of seeing The Mighty Boosh live stage show. So, um, if you've seen The Mighty Boosh on BBC or on DVD, you don't need me to tell you what a psychedelic, mind-exploding brainfuck it was. IT WAS AMAZING.

If you have no idea what the fuck I'm talking about, I urge you learn more here and here.

I'M DIFFERENT NOW

Horse-watching in Wales

2008-10-25T16:33:00.000-07:00

Today I was feeling a little better, so Rosie and I went on a little drive to Suger Loaf Mountain near Abergavenny, Wales. I’ve never been to Wales before, and as a bonus, this was a great opportunity to do some celeb-hunting! After all, everyone has heard of such Welsh celebrities as Anthony Hopkins, Catherine Zeta-Jones, and Charlotte Church. I felt the odds were pretty good that some or all of these people would live near Sugar Loaf Mountain near Abergavenny.

The first thing I saw when we crossed the border into Wales was a lot of empty space. This was promising since celebrities are frequently insisting that they would like more privacy. Unfortunately, just from the freeway I didn’t see any celebrities “keeping it real” the way I was expecting. But that’s okay, because I was crossing my fingers for the Sugar Loaf, or Mynydd Pen-y-Fal as we say in Welsh.

As we drove through the town of Abegavenny, I kept my eyes peeled for celebs. I tried to keep in mind that Wales might have some celebrities I hadn’t even heard of, so I continued peeling my eyes for any individuals wearing enormous sunglasses and being followed by a flock of photographers. Disappointingly, I did not see any of those people but I did see some elderly citizens doing their shopping and many signs in the Welsh language that made me think, Wow, I didn’t realize seeing two d’s in a row would be so disturbing.

Rosie drove us up part of the mountain, where I beheld a very pretty view of Abergavenny and a wide open field filled with sheep. There were a lot of sheep. I didn’t want to scare them, but I did creep closer in order to ascertain whether any of them were celebrities. To be truthful, I couldn’t say for sure about any of them because I couldn’t even tell them apart from each other. It’s possible that none of them celebrities... but it is also possible that they were ALL CELEBRITIES. Just to be safe, I photographed each of them keeping in mind that even they weren’t famous now, they might become famous later.

Upon further traveling, Rosie and I encountered a beautiful horse that eagerly approached us. THIS is what I’m talking about!, I thought. Check out this feisty Welsh babe. I immediately starting snapping away and posing in pictures with her. I know the paparazzi aren’t usually supposed to get involved like that, but I like to consider myself a photographer so this was for the sake of art. Think about it.

Anyway, the horse lost interest and wandered away a few times, but she always came back. I thought, This babe knows she belongs in front of a camera. She’s going to be a star!

Of course, with fame comes the inevitable famewhores. After a while, our beauty’s less attractive friend came wandering up looking for some attention. Obviously as a non-celebrity citizen we didn’t fawn over her, but we snapped a few pictures... until Little Miss Glommer lifted up her tail and sprayed a noisy fart in our direction. It lasted several seconds, coincidentally exactly as long as it took for Rosie and I to leap into the car and drive away.

We left Wales with a sense of accomplishment, confident that we had spotted a star in the making, and produced sufficient evidence that we knew her before she went Hollywood. With any luck, Rosie and I can ride her coattails all the way to the top.

Sick on vacation

2008-10-24T07:51:00.000-07:00

I'm not sick of vacation, but I am most definitely sick ON vacation.

I woke up horribly, disgustingly sick. I suppose it's relatively good timing, considering that poor Dan was sick the entire time we were in Paris.

Now it is my turn. Rosie is at work all day, so I will take this opportunity to drown my illness in water and vitamins.

Good night. Blech.

From Paris to Bristol: the long morning

2008-10-23T13:50:00.000-07:00

- Waking up at 4:30 AM to say goodbye to Dan, and killing time until it was time to leave for the airport several hours later.

- Walking to the train station at 7:30 AM, thinking about how very, very alone I am at this very moment... Dan is gone and I’m charged with the simple task of getting on the right train to the right airport by myself. Suddenly it’s very scary that I don’t speak any French. It makes me feel like if anything terrible happened to me, no one would help. Even though it’s not true, sometimes I briefly think this when I’m alone in any foreign language country.

- Getting on the RER B is not as easy as it should be. When the train pulls up, I eagerly lug my suitcase on board, but none of the other people with suitcases get on with me. Without any time to figure out what the fuck, I decide to get back off the train. I don’t know where to find out which RER Bs actually go to the airport, but I’m definitely not going anywhere the other people with suitcases aren’t going.

- Eventually all my airport peeps seem to know THIS train is the right one, so I get on with them. It’s so crowded that my face is pressed against the glass. Like a cartoon of what a full train looks like.

- At the airport, they try to make me check my little suitcase but I am not having it. HELL TO THE NO.

- My flight is only about 20% full so I have a full row to myself. I make myself comfortable and get some sleep, but it backfires when no one wakes me up to fill out a landing card. The ultimate result is, I wait in line at customs twice.

- The customs agent grills me hardcore before letting me through. She asks about where I’ve been, what I’ve done, how much money I have, how much money I make, how much money I have in my bank account, Rosie’s nationality, Rosie’s address, Rosie’s job, my job, my plans in Bristol, my flight back to America, etc. I understand the customs agent has a job to do but maybe she could learn to do it while KISSING MY TERRORIST ASS.

- At last, Rosie picks me up and whisks me back to her house. I feel like I’ve returned home. Which is kind of sad because in a week I will be on a plane back to America!

3 days in Paris: the highlights

2008-10-22T17:53:00.000-07:00

Well, our time in Paris is over. I am not left with many words, but that’s just how wonderful it’s been to spend time here. It’s been a short trip but I have to say, we have made the most of it, every single second... even when we went on a Slow Roll field trip to see Righteous Kill, because sometimes it’s important to, uh, immerse yourself in local culture by, uh, reading its French subtitles.

I thought I would share some of our more memorable moments here...

Tour Eiffel. I have to strongly disagree with anyone who says the Eiffel Tower is a huge disappointment. It took my breath away. We saw it for the first time at night, when it was lit up and performing some kind of light show every hour. It looked impressive from a distance and as we got closer, I couldn’t wrap my head around how massive it was. We all know what the Eiffel Tower looks like from movies and photos, but I guess that’s why I couldn’t believe it was real. I mean, celebrities always look smaller when you see them in person -- the Eiffel Tower was much bigger than I expected.

A few days later we returned to the tower on the most perfectly sunny autumn day you could possibly ask for, and not to sound like a goober but it was EVEN MORE AMAZING. Dan and I sprawled on the lawn and took it in for a while before it was time to buy a cheese-covered hot dog because in Paris, that’s a classy thing to do.

Arc de Triomphe. My camera ran out of batteries almost as soon as we ascended the epid spiral staircase to the top of the arch, but again... you just couldn’t have asked for a prettier day. I won’t forget that view anytime soon.

Seine River. We spent some time each day walking along the river, but there was one day when we hiked from the Eiffel Tower to le Marais along the Seine the whole time. It was really stupendously gorgeous but we were also starving and literally unable to find somewhere that sold food. You’d think it would be easy but we didn’t want to eat anything not AMAZING while we were in France, so we turned down a convenience store and a transit café. Suddenly, we had spent most the day wandering along the river and realized it was one of our favorite things we’d done in Paris.

Champs-Élysées. This is where Dan and I started thinking about going to the movies. We passed several cinemas and one of them was playing an animated film about a pig named “Desmond.” The protagonist looked like he was made of Play-Doh so the movie might have been claymation, but Desmond didn’t look as crunk as Al Pacino and Robert DeNiro in Righteous Kill. I AM JUST SAYING.

Place de la Concorde. Eric: “OH MY GOD! IT’S THAT FOUNTAIN WHERE ANNE HATHAWAY THREW AWAY HER CELL PHONE AT THE END OF THE DEVIL WEARS PRADA!” Dan: “...and this is the Obelisk, which is also an interesting landmark.”

Catacombes de Paris. Well, this was quite a day. After an unpleasant lunch thanks to a stupendously rude waiter who obviously had a huge problem with tourists, we were left with about 30 minutes to get to the Catacombs before they closed for the day. After a lengthy subway ride, we came above ground to find pouring rain and only 10 minutes to find the ticket office. Fortunately, according to the directions, it was located directly across the from the train station.

This turned out to be both true and not true.

After looking around and not seeing anything that looked like a tunnel leading into the medieval bowels of Paris, we spied a sign directing pedestrians to the Catacombs. Wonderful! EXCEPT THAT IT WAS ALL LIES.

5 minutes later, we found ourselves sprinting through the rain counting down addresses from 100 trying to get to 1... and at 61, the street just ended. By then, the Catacombs were closed and it was hard not to blame the rude waiter for our humiliating defeat (just him ignoring our repeated requests for the check easily cost us 30 minutes). I turned to Dan and said, “THIS is why we can never go on The Amazing Race” (not because we got lost, but because this + cameras = worst idea ever).

After another lap around the roundabout, we eventually found the ticket office... not located anywhere AROUND the roundabout... but in a little green shack in the CENTER of the roundabout. Thanks for nothing, sign.

The next day, we made it to the Catacombs and were rewarded with a subterranean stroll through a gruesome tunnel made of human bones. Totally worth it.

Notre Dame. Pretty.

Jardin du Luxembourg. Pretty.

Parc Monceau. Pretty.

Le Marais. On a recommendation from a friend, we ate in this neighborhood a few times. Um, it was a really, really good recommendation. However, the first time I got brave and ordered something that turned out to be raw salmon topped with lettuce, spaghetti, shredded zucchini, and a crunk sauce. It was the most puzzling meal I’ve ever eaten. I still don’t know how I feel about it. It might have been an edgy French culinary risk that paid off, or I might have been punk’d by a chef who could tell we were American.

More importantly, dessert. In one night Dan and I enjoyed no less than four desserts in a single stroll through the neighborhood... mmmm... including a luscious chocolate éclair which we ~~annihilated~~ nibbled on that evening by the Seine next to some friendly-looking drug dealers.

From Amsterdam to Paris: a whole new world

2008-10-19T15:21:00.000-07:00

I know it sounds crazy, but this is the part of the trip I’ve been dreading the most. Lately I’ve started asking myself why I thought it would be a good idea to visit France when I don’t know a speck of French. I’ve been to many cities in many countries, but usually I can understand or speak or sorta get by with the language. Embarrassingly enough considering I live in southern California, the only other time this has happened to me was in Spain.

I don’t know a single word of French, except for the words we stole from them like “rendezvous” and “RSVP” (“Répondez s'il vous plait”), which will probably not serve to be very useful unless Dan and I form a Parisian social life toot sweet. Omigawd! Did I just lapse into French? I’m always doing that, how embarrassing! I’m just really worldy and stuff, it’s totally like a blessing and a curse.

Anyway, the idea of coming to France has inspired plenty of preemptive panic in the last several months but obviously not enough to get off my ass and brush up on the language. So I was relieved when Dan and I were visited by an angel on the train ride from Amsterdam to Paris, in the form of a kindly Dutch woman who had been living in Paris for many years. She gave us some information on the area we’d be staying in, how to take the trains there, and did a lot of reassuring that we would have a great time and there was absolutely nothing to worry about besides how quickly our visit would be over.

I mean, at least we’re not as unprepared as the guy sitting across from us on the train, who would lean in periodically and pay WAY too much attention to our conversation. I have no idea what language he spoke, but the only time I actually understood what he was saying it was just one word over and over:

“Paris?”
“Yeah!”
“Paris?”
“Yes.”
“Paris?”
“YES.”

Even so, I experienced a slight shut-down when we were released into the city of Paris and faced with the simple task of reaching our hotel. If I had eagerly taken the lead when we were in Amsterdam, here I handed the reins over to Dan with equal enthusiasm. He knows some French and isn’t as scared as I am, so he will be the leader for this leg of our vacation. Meanwhile, I dealt with my new environment by turning quiet and irritable because I guess I’m a cat.

Finally, two things happened that instantly dispelled my strange mood and reminded me that we are somewhere truly special:

1. We ate dinner. If you have ever had good food in Paris you know that this was a religious experience. The sheer deliciousness of every ingredient, combined to create a meal even more delicious than the sum of its parts... I can’t even talk about it right now. My whole outlook on food has changed and I have a lot to think about.

2. We visited the Eiffel Tower. It really doesn’t matter what a tourist spot it is, because it deserves it. My breath was taken away. End of story.

Tomorrow is our first full day in Paris. Here we come!

Hearting Amsterdam

2008-10-18T15:58:00.000-07:00

I don’t heart Amsterdam just because I can do drugs here, or because everyone speaks English. I mean, those things help, but it would be a great city without them. This is my third visit to Amsterdam and every time I step outside Centraal Station, I just can’t believe how damn pretty it is.

Aside from my year abroad in Scotland, I’ve only visited Europe in summertime. I should have known that Europe in the fall would be even more beautiful, especially since I now reside in LA, which has no seasons. Instead, LA features one 11-month-long summer that makes me want to crawl inside a refrigerator like Cherie in Punky Brewster. How have I lived for four years without autumn? There is nothing else like it, and to me Amsterdam has never been more beautiful.

I will say one thing now that I’ve been to this city three times: it doesn’t get ANY easier to navigate, and I’m telling you my sense of direction is one of the most amazing things about me, along with my ability to converse with animals (“Good day Tove, how are you?” “Fine, thanks. WHAAAAAAT”). On our first night in Amsterdam, I led Dan and Rosie on a vigorous walk towards the heart of town, eagerly explaining how well I knew the city and that it was, like, instinct that I didn’t need to look at the map.

Of course, after a long time with no heart of town to be found, I plotted our location and discovered we had marched several miles away from anything and we were located somewhere called “President Kennedy Lane” that was way off the map.

But it just doesn’t matter, because everywhere you go (except President Kennedy Lane) is gorgeous and weird and unexpected. Today we explored the Vondelpark, a large park near the Rijksmuseum where I decided I could easily imagine calling this place home. For how crazy it is, and all the sex and drug culture on display, Amsterdam still manages to feel like it would be a great place to raise a family. There is so much more to this city than its sleazy side, and I’m sad for anyone who comes here JUST to get high and visit the Red Light District.

That being said, if you are going to Amsterdam anytime soon, don’t forget to get high and visit the Red Light District. (But probably not on the same night.)

Eurotrippin'

2008-10-17T16:41:00.000-07:00

I’m not going to lie. I enjoy getting stoned, and getting high in Amsterdam is kind of a must. There is nothing quite like going into a coffeeshop and ordering marijuana off a menu.

Additionally, there is nothing quite like eating magic mushrooms in Amsterdam. When you buy them, it comes with plenty of informative literature about using them properly and what to expect.

It’s an activity I would never engage in without that safe atmosphere, but it makes me happy knowing that somewhere, at least, tripping balls is a totally legitimate form of recreation.

From Bristol to Amsterdam: a series of unfortunate events

2008-10-16T18:23:00.000-07:00

- Parking the car at Rosie’s parents house and hiking up a ginormous hill with our suitcases, standing around for half an hour, then watching our bus drive by... on the other side of the street. (Right on time, of course.)

- Cool, no problem, Rosie can just drive us to the airport. After like 30 minutes of driving that takes us through a tiny village with only one lane running through it, Rosie muses, “Isn’t it funny how I’ve never actually driven to the airport before?” It’s funny only because she successfully gets us there in the end.

- Going through security in the airport, preceded by a warning about gels and liquids in your bags, Rosie is stopped and her bag is searched by an officer who proceeds to pull every gel and liquid in the world out of Rosie’s little bag. Shampoo, conditioner, lotion, toothpaste, you name it. I’ve never seen so many gels and liquids in my life. I promise I’m not trying to make Rosie feel bad because it was really edgy of her to forget about quite that amount of gels and liquids.

- If you’re not aware, easyJet has a really “awesome” policy of first-come-first-serve seating, and when we’re about to have our tickets scanned for boarding, an entire sports team of rowdy boys totally cuts in front of us.

- Rosie and I book it off the plane in Amsterdam and reach customs with barely a line to wait in. This is pretty amazing until, just before my turn, Rosie can’t find her passport which she successfully retrieves just as I get out of line and the entire flight (including the sports team) gets in line in front of us.

- Everyone talks about how simple and easy it is to get from Amsterdam Schipol airport to Amsterdam Centraal Station, including me when I was talking to Dan, which is why I never actually explained it to him. So I probably deserve the total cluelessness I am faced with as we struggle to buy our tickets and get on the right train. (Although I have to say, half the battle was getting the correct change in Euros.)

- In the taxi queue outside Centraal Station, we’re waiting at the front of the line when people stroll right past us and get taxis. So we decide we’re going to go with the flow and walk out there and grab a taxi out of the line too, but no one will let us in their cab. So we go back and it’s really incredible that we didn’t end up waiting in line behind that motherfucking sports team.

- At last, we’re in the taxi and our driver knows exactly where the hotel is. There’s only one problem: OUR DRIVER IS A MURDERER. It later becomes obvious that this is a finely tuned system that works if you’re accustomed to it, but it is a death race that brings us to the Hotel Kap, not to mention within inches of decimating about a thousand pedestrians and cyclists.

And the final unfortunate event, on this happy, happy day: DUTCH TOILETS. Have you ever used them? Have you ever been presented with a dry shelf of your own excrement? Believe me, the answer to one is the answer to the other.

And of course, the most fortunate event of all (besides arriving in glorious Amsterdam): reuniting with Dan, who flew in from LA on this very day to spend a week of Eurotripping with me!

Hooray for everything.

There's beauty sleep, and then there's this

2008-10-14T08:46:00.001-07:00

I may have just broken some kind of personal record, because I just finished sleeping for 18 HOURS.

From LA to Bristol: a series of entries

2008-10-13T10:27:00.000-07:00

PART 1: FUCK
written en route from LA to Orlando

I just realized I totally miscalculated the length of my second flight. It will in fact be 8 hours, not 5 as I had thought. (I had forgotten to factor in the 3-hour difference between American coasts.) Eight hours is a long time. Long enough to watch Titanic from start to finish twice, and then the first 90 minutes again. Too bad I didn't bring my copy of Titanic, which means I will instead have to watch a shorter movie more times.

PART 2: WHAT
written before takeoff from Orlando

When we landed in Orlando, they called my name over the intercom and said I should contact ground staff immediately regarding my connecting flight. As soon as I got off the plane, I approached the desk and they immediately knew who I was, and informed me that my connecting flight had been delayed 24 HOURS, but they had booked me a new flight and it was boarding LIKE RIGHT THIS SECOND.

At the new gate, they also instantly knew who I was and wrote me a boarding pass by hand, which I have never seen before, and I started to panic a little bit.

First of all, my computer and mp3 player were completely dead from the previous flight. I had been counting on a 3-hour layover to do some serious charging, especially as I had gone to the effort of ripping an entire season of Dexter to my Zune to occupy me after racing through my computer battery watching Mad Men on DVD. I would be amused for HOURS AND HOURS. It was a perfect plan. And all of a sudden we were about to take off and all my electronics were useless. BOREDOM PANIC.

Second of all, I needed to call the bank and let them know I would be withdrawing money outside the country, and to please not freeze my account like asshole Washington Mutual did when I dared venture as far as Canada. I know I should have done this sooner, but again... totally counting on this layover.

Third of all, and most alarming, the flight information I forwarded Rosie was now useless and I couldn't even email her (let alone call) to let her know when and where to pick me up (especially since I would be taking the train to a different town, a few hours from Bristol, where she would come get me).

Fourth of all, when I got to my seat there was already someone there and their boarding pass was printed with a COMPUTER, so I felt like they had the upper hand. After a walkie-talkie conversation between airline staffers, I was placed in the very back of the plane. This is when I noticed there was no flight number on my handwritten boarding pass, so not only did I have no idea what time it was, or what time we were departing, I had no idea what flight I was on so at least she could look up what time I would land.

So, all of a sudden we were ABOUT TO TAKE OFF and all I could do was furiously text Rosie about this latest turn of events AS THE PLANE WAS TAXIING, which got me busted by a flight attendant, not to mention the fact that my seat is broken and defaults to the "reclined" position, leading to repeated busting from a flight attendant who thought I was simply a bad listener.

PART 3: I TAKE IT ALL BACK
written en route from Orlando to London

Well. Um. All of a sudden I'm half an hour away from London. Screw my 24-hours-delayed flight, Virgin is GREAT. Totally worth the extra $300 for facilitating my total blackout on this 8-hour flight.

After buying these tickets, I idly looked up some customer reviews of Virgin Atlantic, and the feedback was scathing: the service was bad, the flights were delayed, the entertainment system was broken, you name it.

Well, it sucks to be those people because Virgin rocked my world. The staff was friendly and attentive, the movies were free (unlike Virgin America), and best of all, I ended up having an entire row to myself so I was free to lounge about in a variety of positions I learned from my cats. And the food... well, who cares, because it came with a glass of wine that might have had roofies in it because the next thing I remember is RIGHT NOW.

Oh, and I'm wearing the red Virgin socks they handed out at the beginning of the flight. Nothing like kicking off your shoes to get date raped across the Atlantic Ocean. Thanks, Virgin.

PART 4: BACK IN JACK... UNION JACK, THAT IS-- LIKE ENGLAND? DO YOU UNDERSTAND? ZZZZZZZZZZZZZ
written from London Gatwick airport

At first, I happily realized that not checking any bags on this trip had probably saved hours of waiting and speculation as to where in the world my stuff might be.

After that, I was rather worried to find that my card was rejected by the ATM, convincing me that Bank of America had pulled a Washington Mutual and frozen my funds, but fortunately I had enough American dollars on me to get totally ripped at the currency exchange and buy my train ticket. I'm left right now with some British coinage, a few American singles, and some apparently useless plastic cards that were supposed to represent all the money I've set aside for this exact situation.

PART 5: I HAVE NOW ARRIVED
written in Rosie's house in Bristol

I am really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really happy to be here.

TIFF journal: farewells

2008-09-10T08:54:00.000-07:00

Farewell, Toronto. I know we’ve only gone out twice, but I’m pretty sure I’m falling in love with you. I’d really like it if we could go steady. So, you know, if you could talk to your government about granting me instant citizenship, that would be pretty cool. Thanks.

Farewell, TIFF. If I thought you showed me a good time last year, you’ve really outdone yourself this time. I know there are problems -- horribly managed lineups outside the AMC, Hollywood douchebags texting through movies, Coopers’ Camera -- but the fact remains that I named 10 movies out of 312 that I wanted to see most, and you gave them to me. You even let me make my own mistakes, no uncertainty about it, but that’s life.

Saddest of all, I must bid farewell to Vickie. Thank you for spending time with me and Dan every single day and providing endless TIFF counseling. Thank you for being a ticket pre-folder just like me. Thank you for snacks, Biel-hunting, and photo shoots. And thank you for always wanting dessert.

Another year, another TIFF. It’s not really over (it ends this Saturday), but I’m about to get on an airplane and fly back to the year-long poop festival that is Los Angeles. Last year we shared our flight home with Geoffrey Rush. Cross your fingers that by the time you read this, I’ll have spent the next 5 hours becoming best friends with Jessica Biel and interviewing her about how much she sucks at everything.

TIFF journal: upper of a downer

2008-09-09T21:13:00.000-07:00

Today marks mine and Dan’s final day of TIFFing for 2008. We’re heading back to LA tomorrow morning, and saw only one film this afternoon: The Dungeon Masters, a documentary about the everyday lives of “Dungeons & Dragons” gamers.

It was, first of all, an INCREDIBLY good-looking movie, almost distractingly well-photographed and edited (I mean that as a major compliment). The Dungeon Masters begins at an annual D&D convention in Indiana, and follows three gamers through the ups and downs of their private lives in the following year. However, it might be misleading to include the “ups” part of that statement, since their stories are awfully depressing.

The film’s primary mission was to portray these people with respectful interest, as opposed to poking fun at them (which, let’s face it, would be the easy route). And don’t get me wrong, the filmmakers maintain the perfect level of objectivity throughout the movie without losing sight of the inherent absurdity involved... but overall, to me, these were sad stories about people struggling to function in the ordinary world. Their real-life triumphs were touching, but it was a little awkward that the film confirmed (at least in these three cases) what you might have already guessed about the lives of D&D gamers.

Nevertheless, The Dungeon Masters was immensely enjoyable and I truly felt affection for the gamers featured. The director, editor, and producer all stuck around for a Q&A, during which Patton Oswalt raised his hand and asked a question! It turns out he is good friends with Keven McAlester (the director), and his question was totally (and hilariously) facetious. I was just thrilled to bring my TIFF ’08 celebrity sighting tally up to 2.

Speaking of celebrity sightings, I need to mention the fact that, all week, Dan and Vickie and I have been on a mission to find Jessica Biel. Her new movie, Easy Virtue (in which she plays a glamorous American divorcee named Larita Huntington) was having its premiere at this year’s TIFF, presenting a really good chance to get an autograph or punch her in the face or otherwise show our appreciation for her body of work.

Alas, no Biel sightings were in the cards for us this week, although Vickie watched news footage of Biel arriving at the red carpet, and Dan and I visited the very spot where the premiere took place a few hours after it was over (we were seeing a movie when the red carpet event actually took place, so we couldn’t even join the gawkers). Apparently Colin Firth (Biel’s co-star) also attended the screening. He’s pretty cool, but has he ever dressed up as Catwoman in a gay Adam Sandler movie? I don’t think so.

I guess we’ll just have to slow roll Easy Virtue when it comes out in theaters in 2009.

TIFF journal: festival karma is real

2008-09-08T23:35:00.000-07:00

I have so much to tell you about, I don’t even know where to begin. I guess I could start by saying our first movie was called Uncertainty, and it left me uncertain whether to flee the theater or throw stuff at the screen. I also felt uncertain how many times Uncertainty would repeat the same scenes over and over, but I was fairly certain they weren’t getting better every time. Aren’t film festivals full of uncertainty? (See how much fun this is?)

Uncertainty stars the talented Joseph Gordon-Levitt and also someone named Lynn Collins (both of whom were in attendance) as Bobby and Kate, a totally annoying couple who flip a coin to decide what they’re going to do that day. The movie tracks both possibilities through the next day and a half, intercutting like no one in film school has ever thought of this idea. I’ll tell you something, it’s not a bad idea, and it’s already been made into an awesome movie called Sliding Doors. And if you didn’t think that was any fun, don’t even bother with Uncertainty.

You see, in one of the parallel universes, Bobby and Kate find a cell phone and end up running for their lives as they attempt to extort half a million dollars from the Russian mafia, making the stupidest decision possible at every step of the way. And in the other parallel universe... they make empanadas and find a dog.

Uncertainty is one of those movies where I really wanted to go with it, I really wanted to like it and find it artful and challenging and thought-provoking, but it is absolutely devoid of subtext. During the Q&A, one woman raised her hand just to offer the comment, “Layers... wow. Bravo.” I can only imagine that Uncertainty sheer dumbitude regressed her to the moment right after she had seen Sliding Doors instead.

Fortunately, Uncertainty was a way better bad movie than Coopers’ Camera, because at least this movie was HILARIOUS. About 10 minutes into Uncertainty, Dan and I locked eyes to exchange the requisite “You think this sucks too, right?” look, leaving us to barely compose ourselves every time Bobby and Kate talked about how they were uncertain about stuff.

This was all well and good since we left the theater grinning from ear to ear, but it made me nervous. Two lousy TIFF movies in a row? Would we come back from this? Would our next film suck too? I didn’t know anything about our evening film, a Serbian offering entitled Carlston za Ognjenku (Tears For Sale) -- it was a wild card choice and I was starting to doubt that it would pay off.

As it turns out, we needed our last two movies to karmically break even after seeing Tears For Sale, and it was totally worth it! Try to imagine a cross between Baz Luhrmann, Tarsem, and Pushing Daisies (and of course, imagine that would be divine instead of disastrous). I’m assuming your head just exploded as well. This was truly an experience like no other.

The story is set in a remote Serbian village where all the men have died at war, leaving a population of misery-obsessed babes whose only hope for losing their virginity is one bedridden old man fed through a tube. When one of two sisters inadvertently causes the old man’s death, both sisters are banished from the village and given three days to return with a man or their grandmother’s angry spirit will take them to Hell, where there won’t even be naked men to have sex with (as promised in local folklore).

This is the setup for a visual feast whose CGI effects, fancy editing, and wild imagination put many American blockbusters to shame. In Tears For Sale, these things never seem (needlessly) flashy or self-serving, perhaps because they actually serve the plot as well as the rich Serbian folklore embedded throughout the film. I don’t remember the last time I so thoroughly believed in such unbelievable material, but it all made sense at the time. As Dan and I left the theater, he commented, “If I could turn around and attend another showing of that movie right this second, I would.”

During the Q&A, the director, Uros Stojanovic -- a lovably modest man with a crazy hat collection I can totally respect -- was asked about his next project or plans. “I know this is a very bad thing to say at a film festival,” he said guiltily, “but I am trying to run away and make Hollywood movies.” To be honest, we could use a guy like him. And if you ever get a chance to watch Tears For Sale, don’t you dare miss it!

TIFF journal: from Monaco to Mississauga

2008-09-07T23:48:00.000-07:00

I mean that title literally and figuratively, if you know what I mean, although I don’t mean any offense towards Mississaugans just because our first dud of the festival is set there. But that comes later.

First, Dan and I caught a morning movie -- by the way, I am no longer using quotes around the word morning because apparently the Scotiabank Theatre food court doesn’t think people eat lunch until 3 PM, when it finally opened -- called La Fille de Monaco (The Girl from Monaco). It was a charming, sexy French comedy with a slight thriller twist near the end, which was intriguing but disappointingly not fully explored.

Bertrand (Fabrice Luchini) is a stuffy, aging lawyer in Monaco for a highly-publicized case. Against his wishes, Bertrand’s client has hired a thuggish bodyguard to accompany him at all times and even sleep in his hotel room. And that’s when the titular girl shows up: this is Audrey (Louise Bourgoin), and she is a sexy local weather girl who is terrible at her job but wonderful at intoxicating Bertrand with her lack of inhibition. Bertrand’s bodyguard warns him against this girl, but he is smitten... and his mind is firmly off his big case.

This was exactly the movie I was expecting when I chose it -- it was certainly not too deep, but it kept me entertained for the entire hour and a half, the locations were gorgeous, and who doesn’t enjoy listening to people speak French? And it is starting to look like Dan sleeps through one film per festival, so better it was this one than the one where Jean-Claude Van Damme is a great actor.

Interestingly, the actress playing the title role (in attendance for the Q&A, although I’m pretty sure she spoke zero English) was an actual weather girl with no film experience when the director took a chance and gave her the starring role in this movie. Bourgoin was fabulous in the role and obviously has an acting career ahead of her, but Vickie saw her in the lobby and reported that the instant Bourgoin turned away from fawning festivalgoers, her luminous smile slid right into bitchface.

Maybe she was just jet-lagged.

In the afternoon, we ate an early dinner with Vickie, her sister Trixie, and her friend Valerie. They were all delightful and I loved every minute, especially when the topic of America’s Next Top Model came up and Valerie volunteered, “I don’t know that much about Tyra Banks, but sometimes she does things that make me embarrassed for her.” I laughed so hard I almost snorted chicken pot pie out of my nose. But you know what? I would have looked fierce doing it. And that is the difference between just a pretty girl and a model.

Unfortunately, it was just about time to come down from our TIFF ’08 high, and we should have known because our next film, Coopers’ Camera, was the first screening we shared with Vickie... just like last year’s Nothing Is Private... AND it was shown in the same theater where we saw Nothing Is Private. I guess we can’t say the universe didn’t warn us, but on the other hand, we had a lot to look forward to: this “1985 VHS home video”-style comedy stars Jason Jones, Samantha Bee, and Dave Foley, all of whom were in the audience for the film’s WORLD PREMIERE.

To make a long story short, Trixie walked out after 10 minutes. Vickie walked out after 20 minutes. Dan and I stuck around for the whole movie, but walked out on the Q&A.

The film was just awful. The TIFF programmer who introduced Coopers’ Camera enthusiastically announced that after 2 minutes, they KNEW they had to show this magnificently crafted comedy that would totally change our lives for the hilarious. The filmmakers would probably not care to know what I was thinking after 2 minutes of Coopers’ Camera.

The plot centered around the titular Cooper family, who get a fancy new VHS camera on Christmas Day (IN 1985! LOOK AT THE HILARIOUSLY BAD HAIRSTYLES! LOOK AT ME NOT LAUGHING!) and film throughout the day as their family falls apart and pulls back together on a thoroughly unpleasant journey of human ugliness. But, you know, it’s hilarious because the house is full of ‘80s stuff and there’s a lot of pee and poop and sex jokes.

And -- this is something that bothered me throughout the movie -- it didn’t remotely resemble VHS. It was obviously shot in HD digital video with some filter applied to make it look like VHS, but it didn’t work at all. So it was impossible to ever feel like this was taking place in the past, on top of the fact that it played like a tedious SNL sketch.

There was probably a collective 8 minutes of funny in all of Coopers’ Camera -- and to be fair, the parts that made me laugh REALLY made me laugh, such as the gift exchange sequence where grandma receives wrapped produce -- but this should never have become a movie. I still love Jones and Bee on The Daily Show, and I’ll never stay mad at Dave Foley for long, but overall this was an awfully depressing affair.

TIFF journal: Hunan and homos

2008-09-06T23:44:00.000-07:00

Our streak of wildly good fortune at this year’s TIFF continued, beginning with this morning’s film, The Biggest Chinese Restaurant in the World, a documentary whose subject may not have been a surprise, but whose subject matter ended up surprising me very much.

Clearly, this movie was initially attractive to Dan because it’s like “NPR presents...” (and as it turns out, the film has also taken the form of a four-part BBC series, which is close enough), and that’s exactly how it played. After drawing us in with practical aspects of running what is essentially an extremely theatrical factory, the film delves deeper into the lives of Chinese families who choose to hold their banquets at T.B.C.R.I.T.W., painting a vivid portrait of modern Chinese life and values.

Most compelling is the story of a young waitress at T.B.C.R.I.T.W., who left home at 15 years old to earn money so her twin sister can go to medical school. Because their family is extremely poor and the father is unable to work, and although both daughters dreamed of becoming doctors, only one of them will ever get to study while the other toils for what amounts to spare change. What makes this sacrifice so heartbreaking is the total lack of resentment on either of their parts, and although neither girl can help weeping through their interviews, it is firmly understood that the good of their family comes first.

T.B.C.R.I.T.W. is also jam-packed with footage that (1) reminds you that American Chinese food is barely related to actual Chinese food, and (2) makes you never want to eat Chinese food again. Sorry, but after witnessing a live snake become an entrée in less than 2 minutes, and the severed chunks of meat are still wiggling and contracting on the plate, I’ll have to take a break from even the most bastardized Chinese food.

Our second film, Patrik 1,5 was already whispered to be a festival fave, and I was THRILLED that we got tickets to this one. It’s a Swedish film about a gay couple trying to adopt a baby, and through a clerical error, instead of receiving a Patrik aged 1 1/2, end up with a surly 15-year-old with a criminal record and a whole lot of homo-hatred. Yes, it’s a comedy, but it also dealt with weighty issues so gracefully that much of the theater was sniffling joyfully through the credits.

I’ve seen lots of good and great movies at film festivals, but you can tell it’s a special screening when 99% of the audience sticks around for the Q&A (usually, even in very good screenings, at least half the audience bails ASAP just ‘cause). Patrik 1,5 features two pitch-perfect performances at its center: Gustaf Skarsgård as Göran, one of the dads, and Thomas Ljungman as Patrik. Göran’s husband, Sven (Torkel Petersson) objects to Patrik so much that he moves out, leaving the two of them to develop an unlikely bond that is totally earned by the end of the movie.

It actually feels like a small miracle to have experienced a gay movie that doesn’t suck ass -- maybe Patrik 1,5 is so special because it bypasses the whole notion of a “gay movie” in favor of telling a story about gay people. (No surprise that Patrik 1,5 comes from Sweden!) For that matter, it is nice to see that the “misunderstanding forces two disparate souls to learn from each other” plot device still holds water -- it’s just lazily abused in so many American movies.

All in all, another fantastic day for movies and a very special couple of screenings with entertaining, informative Q&As!

Celebrity sighting: Ellen Burstyn coming down the escalator at the AMC food court. She had done a Q&A for the screening Vickie just attended (Lovely, Still), but I like to pretend homegirl was aching for some Caribbean Queen or Subway. Even Oscar winners gotta eat.

TIFF journal: two films about aging

2008-09-05T22:24:00.000-07:00

It may be impossible to put your finger on just one reason why it’s such a valuable experience to attend an international film festival, but the films we saw today perfectly encapsulate two of them. It’s unlikely that any of our remaining days at this year’s TIFF will pack quite the emotional rollercoaster we’ve had today (though it doesn’t hurt to hope).

First up was J.C.V.D., the new Jean-Claude Van Damme movie. But wait! He plays himself, an aging star fighting a losing custody battle, back in Belgium to clear his head when a trip to the post office gets him involved in a violent hostage situation. Soon the event is a media sensation, with crowds of local Van Damme fans causing as much commotion as shoot-outs with the police. One of the perpetrators can’t believe he is suddenly “hanging out” with Van Damme, asking all about Hard Target and his rivalry with Steven Seagal.

It’s a surreal and inherently humorous situation, but handled with surprising realism that might have had more in common with any of Van Damme’s other violent action films -- except that Jean-Claude Van Damme is the most compelling character Van Damme has ever played. He has other things on his mind. His daughter. His legal fees. His fading career. He's getting old. Participating in real-life action is the last thing he needs today. (This is not to say the movie isn’t kick-ass and action-packed, however. IT’S ALSO GREAT IN THAT WAY.)

Before the film, one of the fest directors explained that he saw J.C.V.D. at Cannes and couldn’t believe his favorite movie of the festival starred Jean-Claude Van Damme. He promised we would see a new side of J.C.V.D., and we did. At one point he delivers a several-minute-long monologue that took the entire audience’s breath away. That’s the gift of a festival like TIFF: unexpected greatness can come from anywhere. Even Jean-Claude Van Damme.

In the evening, we caught Adela, a no-budget drama from the Philippines about a grandmother living in poverty off the side of a major highway. Adela and many other families reside in a garbage dumpsite, functioning as a community like any other. Today is Adela’s 80th birthday, and she eagerly expects a visit from her daughter and grandchildren. Sadly, Adela’s birthday does not turn out exactly as she hoped.

Adela was shot on grainy digital video, obviously among people actually living in these conditions. The style fits the subject matter well, as long takes (occasionally over-long) set us squarely within the reality of life on the dumpsite. Wordless for long stretches at a time, we accompany Adela as she travels to buy food, visit her husband’s grave, and wander the beach in solitude.

Adela is surrounded by new life -- in fact, she delivers a baby in the first scene. Airplanes constantly fly overhead, a subtle reminder of human beings moving from one place to another -- Adela cannot go anywhere. Her community is abound with new beginnings, as her life is coming to its end. And eventually it becomes clear that her grown children have forgotten her.

To be honest, this was not an easy movie for me to watch. My Filipino grandparents both passed away this year. A movie like this makes you want to hold your grandma and tell her how much you love and appreciate her, and I can’t. I’m sure this is true in all cultures, but Filipinos truly cherish their grandparents and this film was heartbreaking -- but it was incredibly well done and surely one of my festival faves this year.

The director was in attendance for a Q&A, along with Anita Linda, the 83-year-old star who traveled all the way from the Philippines to be here in Toronto. There were tears in her eyes as all she could say was, “Thank you... thank you.” Afterwards, there were tears in the eyes of MANY Filipinos who lined up to greet Anita, kiss her on the cheek, and thank her for her extraordinary performance.

You see, you never, ever know where magic will strike at an international film festival.

TIFF journal: stop-motion, start festival

2008-09-04T22:31:00.000-07:00

Today we kicked off the first day of TIFF with a little tourism, hitting something called Casa Loma. It’s a mansion (which felt more like a castle) built by a very rich guy who built a very big house before losing all his money and dying while living with his chauffeur. All I know is, we turned off the electronic tour guide and posed erotically on top of a tower. It was worth the price of admission.

Like yesterday, the overbearing heat sapped our energy and caused rivers of sweat to flow down our faces. If you thought Canada in September might be chilly, try putting on a Victorian dress and having professional photographs taken by an angry Russian woman. I did. More explanation later.

Most importantly, however, tonight kicked off the festival and we attended our first screening of the year at the Varsity! Tonight’s film was Edison & Leo, the first stop-motion animated feature produced in Canada. EVER! The director, producers, writers, several voice actors, and several animators were in attendance and participated in an awkward Q&A in which they all took turns trying to avoid speaking in front of the microphone.

The film itself was just awesome, and visually tasty from start to finish. It concerned George Edison, a 19th century inventor whose son, Leo, has been cursed to be “electrified” for life, leaving him unable to touch anyone or anything without electrocuting it. It had an irresistibly dark sense of humor well-paired with the visual quirks of stop-motion animation. I am hopeful that Edison & Leo will see the light of day beyond this festival.

Afterwards, Dan and I celebrated our return to Toronto by hitting our favorite bar and eatery... well, I can’t remember the damn name of the place. And I never could last year, either, although we went there to dump pitchers of beer and plates of poutine down our gullets several times last year. But I can always find this place by instinct, and this time was no different. Who knows when my instinct will compel me to glance at the sign outside before entering.

In any case, however, the food and drink were delicious, and Dan and I now sit in our hotel room extremely satisfied and eager for tomorrow.

TIFF journal: things to do in Toronto when you’re dead

2008-09-03T20:54:00.000-07:00

It’s hard to describe the state I’m in as I’m writing this. Dan and I have been awake for about 36 hours straight with only a 3-hour nap on the airplane to tide us over into our first Toronto night.

Since arriving in Toronto at 6 AM this morning, we have...

- almost been in a car crash with a garbage truck (crazy taxi driver)
- checked into our hotel
- eaten a gargantuan breakfast designed more to keep us awake than fill us up
- reunited with Vickie (yay!)...

...during which we explained our mission to keep our eyes open until a reasonable our this evening, serving to yank us into east coast time in one go. I cannot stress this enough -- Vickie stepped up to the motherfucking challenge. She kept us busy, she kept us eating, she kept us entertained, she kept asking us for input, and she never ever offered to let us go to the hotel and sleep at 2:30 PM when sleep deprivation started to feel like we had dropped acid.

The drowsiness came and went in waves, actually, as we got our second, third, and fourth winds. Dan and I were never quite in sync, so I was usually propping him up until it was time for him to prop me up, but we made a good team.

I don’t know how to explain how slowly the day progressed, even with all the activities. Each hour that passed was an accomplishment like running the marathon. And so the list continued, as we...

- picked up our festival tickets from the box office
- ate lunch, again, largely to keep us awake
- took a streetcar as far east as it would go
- walked back west along the beach, until the heat drove us back to the street
- sat in rocking chairs in front of a waterfall in the Sheraton lobby
- took a ferry to the Toronto Islands
- hiked several kilometers across the island to catch the ferry back...

...by which time the sun had set and Dan and I were starting to see the CN Tower performing hula dances in our delirium.

In fact, I don’t know how I’ve managed to write this entry before crashing into bed and shattering into a million tiny sleeping cherubs. I’m neglecting to proofread because I’m afraid this entire document will read “U WNNA BE ON TOP NAAA NA NA NA NAAAAA NA” etc.

TIFF journal: luck of the draw

2008-08-30T12:44:00.000-07:00

At 6:45 this morning, Dan's phone buzzed him awake to alert him that he had a new email -- an email which informed us that our TIFF order had been processed, and miraculously, we received ALL TEN of our top film choices!

I don't want to gloat too much because Vickie still hasn't heard news about her order and we're hoping to get several of the same screenings.

It's all becoming real, and we leave in just 3 days!

TIFF journal: entering the lottery

2008-08-27T14:46:00.000-07:00

At 8:54 this morning, we received our Toronto International Film Festival ticketing package including the program guide, order booklets, drop-off and pick-up vouchers, pre-paid FedEx return envelope, and detailed instructions because someone decided that this should be the most complicated and annoying procedure ever. Someone decided that this should be a LOTTERY.

For anyone not aware, buying TIFF tickets means drawing up a schedule of films you'd like to see, which will be chosen and processed at random, which is why you must create a backup schedule in case you don't get your first picks. This is my second time doing this but it hasn't gotten much easier since last year, so I thought I would explain it again.

The full schedule was released yesterday, and since then I have read all 312 film descriptions, narrowed them down to 77 favorites and narrowed them down again, eventually settling on 20 choices (10 first picks, 10 backup picks).

This year, I'm especially impressed the number of documentaries I'm dying to see. These were just a few that caught my eye:

- The Biggest Chinese Restaurant in the World
- Blood Trail
- Every Little Step
- American Swing
- Unwanted Witness
- Sea Point Days
- Soul Power
- Food Inc.
- The Dungeon Masters

And, of course, there is Religulous, which Dan and I saw chunks of last year, courtesy of Bill Maher and Larry Charles. (The only reason we chose not to see the full version this year was... well, we only get 10 TIFF movies a year, and I didn't want two of them to be the same movie.)

So, this morning, I madly filled in the necessary booklets and forms, and we sent off our FedEx envelope back to Toronto for processing this Friday. Fingers crossed that we get our first picks, but as we learned last year, it seems difficult to go wrong with such an amazing selection. I mean, even Alan Ball's abyssmal Nothing Is Private (now re-edited and re-titled Towelhead for release this fall) was an unexpected bit of Slow Roll glory.

For your perusal, here are mine and Dan's 10 picks for this year:

- Edison & Leo
- JCVD
- Adela
- The Biggest Chinese Restaurant in the World
- Patrik Age 1.5
- The Girl From Monaco
- Cooper's Camera
- Uncertainty
- Tears For Sale
- The Dungeon Masters

And here is our collection of backup picks:

- $9.99
- A Film With Me In It
- Universalove
- Detroit Metal City
- Cold Lunch
- Unspoken
- Skin
- Witch Hunt
- Lymelife
- Kisses

Now that I look at it, I'm surprised that only two of our eye-catching documentary faves made it onto the final playlist, but I guess I have more confidence that I'll be able to rent those at some point. I don't know when else I will be able to see an Norwegian film entitled "Cold Lunch."

Dark knight, bright summer

2008-07-31T16:36:00.000-07:00

Hey everybody, I just saw The Dark Knight. Yes, I was one of the five people left on earth who hadn't seen it yet, because if I have to wait in line after buying my ticket, fuck you.

Anyway, even after the hype, record-breaking, and off-the-charts positive reviews, it was still the best thing ever. So I've decided that no one gets to complain about the quality of summer movies this year. I know it's easy to poop all over summer offerings, especially in August (so get ready), but seriously. It's called Wall-E. 2008 rules, okay?

It's also called Iron Man, Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull, Wanted, Hellboy II: The Golden Army, and Mamma fucking Mia!. And in case you forgot, WALL-E. AND THE DARK KNIGHT.

So if you're a Negative Nancy and feel like moaning about how bad Hollywood movies are nowadays, at least shut up long enough to see all of these movies and enjoy yourself. We're in the middle of an unusually awesome summer! Embrace it!

(By the way, if you're in the mood to enjoy something non-blockbuster-y, consider catching The Fall, Baghead, Boy A, or Sixty Six.)

Sex, the city, and Transformers

2008-06-03T10:45:00.000-07:00

David and I went to see Sex and the City last night. YES I LOVE SEX AND THE CITY DO YOU HAVE ANY MORE QUESTIONS. I wanted to see it opening weekend but I hate crowds, so I usually wait a few weeks to see any big movie. I'm into the community experience of cinema-going, I really am, but not if there isn't an empty seat between me and the next chode who thinks setting his phone on vibrate is the same as turning it off. IT MAKES A NOISE.

Still, I have waited four years for this movie and another week might have actually killed me, so I crossed my fingers that the Monday crowd at the theater would be minimal. In fact, it was an estrogen-fueled madhouse as eager women and gay men charged upstream through the departing audience of the previous showing. It was unlike anything I've seen before, even at Star Wars or Harry Potter. That's because in those cases, there were barriers keeping fans in line instead of tearing down the walls and staging a nude fashion show in the auditorium like ~~everyone~~ I did.

Of course, David and I didn't want shitty seats so we joined the mob and took our seats among the debris of half-full popcorns and bags of candy. Not that I was or wasn't contemplating finishing someone else's old snacks but they made us leave the theater before I could do so ANYWAY so it doesn't matter and it's not like anyone was looking. So the hordes of chattering ladies and their depressed boyfriends had to wait in the lobby while they cleaned the theater, and that's when we saw Jonah Hill.

There's not much of a story here because we didn't approach him or anything. The last thing I want to do when I see a celebrity in public is talk to them, even if I think they're awesome (like Jonah Hill). First of all, a stranger coming up and talking to me for no reason is like my worst nightmare so I won't do it to someone else. Second of all, I'm awkward enough when talking to people I DO know, never mind celebrities. He was just a guy at the movies with his girlfriend so we left him alone.

When they let us back into the theater, David and I reclaimed our seats and gasped when we looked back at the entrance. Women were tripping over each other to get inside the auditorium. They resembled water flooding the Titanic. And yet, despite my hopes for a mostly empty theater, I actually enjoyed the full house experience of watching Sex and the City. It was ridiculous, but I loved it. When the lights came up ~~ten~~ two and a half hours later, I thought I might have breasts. Really nice ones. I'm just saying.

To me, it was like a parallel universe where a romantic comedy starring four middle-aged babes can be a blockbuster. I know a lot of people (such as most people I know) hate this movie, and the TV show, but I thought it handled sex and femme-centric drama with surprising frankness and depth. Yeah, it's kind of ridiculous, but it is what it is, and I liked it.

Of course, if you didn't like the show, you will LOATHE the movie, but that's why it made me think of a summer blockbuster (such as Transformers, which I loathed): it's totally unapologetic about what it is, tailor-made for a very specific audience, and that audience already knows EXACTLY who they are. I walked out of Transformers cursing the day Michael Bay was born... but I had no one to blame but myself for walking in in the first place.

Cut to my first day of work

2008-05-27T12:34:00.000-07:00

I'm back at work. Today is my first day back at ANTM after 10 weeks off. As always, my hiatus followed the classic arc, which goes:

Stage 1: SWEET! I don't have to work all day.
Stage 2: SWEET! I'm getting fat unemployment checks every 2 weeks.
Stage 3: SWEET! I'm being so creative all the time.
Stage 4: Why am I crying every day for no reason.

This is only the third day job I've ever had, and it's the first time I've ever returned to the same job two seasons in a row. So even though Cycle 10 went smashingly well, I've been nervous about this day for weeks.

This morning, I took a shower, got dressed, and decided to chop some vegetables to munch just before leaving the house. Sure, why not treat my body right on such a big day? Except that as I was removing the pit from an avocado, the knife slipped and suddenly I was holding a bloody knife and looking at the inside of my finger.

After a few moments of standing there, frozen in disbelief, I ran to the sink and held my bleeding finger under the tap. I could see that the cut was about half a centimeter deep, and a lot of blood came out when I pulled my finger away from the running water. After what I'm now certain was only a few seconds, I started wondering if it would ever stop bleeding and if I would need stitches. I've never had stitches before. Wouldn't it hurt more than the cut itself? What kind of deviant first thought of sewing human flesh together, anyway? WOULD I MISS MY FIRST DAY OF WORK BECAUSE I'M ABOUT TO FAINT AND HIT MY HEAD AND DIE?

After thinking these delightful thoughts, I started to realize the bleeding was slowing and I wasn't about the faint. I was slightly proud of the fact that I could handle this without feeling the urge to vomit. A few seconds later, I was overcome by the urge to vomit. A few seconds after that, my legs would barely hold me up and my vision dissolved into blackness. I did not pass out, but I staggered blindly around my apartment searching for my phone so I could call Dan. At any moment I thought I would lose consciousness, so I took my time and sat down a lot.

Really?! This is what's going on 10 minutes before I'm supposed to be at work on my first day back? My vision started to come back. I looked down at my arms and they were covered in avocado for some reason. Awesome.

Finally I located my phone and called Dan. "Baby, I cut myself and it's bleeding a lot..." I moaned. He instantly turned on this "emergency" tone in his voice that made me feel incredibly safe as he instructed me to wrap my finger until the bleeding stopped, disinfect it, bandage it, etc. I stopped feeling faint, but the urge to throw up intensified. I got off the phone and was very sick in the toilet. Let's leave it at that.

And then I went to work.

And I was only 5 minutes late, bitches!

A lot can happen in two months

2008-05-01T05:47:00.001-07:00

Here is a list of what I’ve been up to in the last eight weeks.

- At the end of March, my grandma’s health deteriorated very quickly and she went to the hospital. I was still working at the time and I took a day off work to drive up to Stockton and see her. I held her hand and spent time with the rest of my family. The next day, when I was back in LA, my grandma died.

- Three days later, Dan and I celebrated our second anniversary, after we met at pamie’s Oscar party in 2006. A lot has happened since then, most remarkably the fact that we now live together. None of this would have happened if I hadn’t started a blog when I was 18, because that’s how pamie got in touch with me in the first place, leading her to introduce me to Dan when we met in person four years later. The internet brings people together, much like Tostitos Brand Tortilla Chips.

- The next week, I started helping Dan create his “Week Without Pity” segments for Television Without Pity. He writes them and gives me the voiceover, and I choose/create the images and edit them into a video. Really, it was just a way for me to hang out with him more, so he didn’t have to spend three nights out of the week working on it after work. On the other hand, I can work on it during the day because...

- ...that was my very last week of work on ANTM Cycle 10! That was a huge accomplishment for me. It’s the longest job I’ve ever had, it’s the highest-paying job I’ve had, but more importantly, it’s the most fun I’ve ever had at work. It was like the end of a school year, with 10 weeks of sweet hiatus before working on Cycle 11. But my excitement took a backseat to a more painful situation...

- That exact same week, my grandpa, his health in rapid decline since grandma’s death, went to the hospital and I went back to San Francisco to visit him in the hospital. In fact, I went directly from my last day of work to the airport, and spent the weekend with my family again. My grandma was the first death in my family that I can remember, and it was both easier and harder to find myself visiting grandpa in the hospital only a few weeks later.

- Two days later, my friend Emily visited from Seattle and stayed with me for a week. It was my first chance in a month to take a deep breath and try to relax, so I wasn’t the most exciting host, but we did have a great time. Anyway, David took her to Roscoe’s House of Chicken ’N Waffles, so she had at least one amazing experience while she was here.

- On the same day that Emily left (and at the exact same time, though on a different flight), I flew up to Seattle to spend three days with my parents, to hang out under more normal circumstances, and to pack up some oversized belongings I would drive back to LA in a rental car. We pretty much ate well and watched a bunch of movies -- exactly what we needed to chill out and enjoy each other’s company.

- On the morning of Saturday, March 29th, I picked up my friend Jen at 7:30 AM, and picked up my rental car at 8 AM. We started driving through the snow that had started falling, alarmingly enough, but encountered good weather through the mountains and... well, let’s just say we made good time. AMAZING time. I’ve never driven that far on my own before (or with someone who hadn’t either), so it was a real adventure. If you don’t believe me, check out the motherfucking lions and bears we got crunk with on the way.

- The day after Jen and I arrived in LA, I found out that my grandpa had died. In fact, I learned this on the day Jen and I spent at DISNEYLAND. And Disneyland happened only after we experienced an accidental tour through Watts, thanks to a freeway shooting that shut down the entire 105 and redirected hundreds of vehicles with no detour through what some consider a dangerous part of town. THEN we got to visit Mickey’s house in ToonTown and ride the Matterhorn. And then I went home and made arrangements to fly out for grandpa’s burial.

- Grandpa’s burial was the following Saturday. I could not even stay overnight in San Francisco because Jen was not only still in LA, but leaving early the next morning. So I got up at 4 AM, flew out to be with my family, served as a pallbearer throughout the viewing, church service, and final burial that afternoon. Several hours later, I was flying back to LA. And I realized I was getting sick.

- When I got home from my big day out of town, I wasn’t feeling so good. By 11 PM that night, I had a fever, couldn’t stop shaking, and was talking to myself. At 8 AM, I realized there was no way I could operate a motor vehicle, so Dan took Jen to the airport because he is a saint. My miserable self went along for the ride, trying hard to convince Jen that I wasn’t the worst host in the history of hosting. I went home and, long story short, spent the next two weeks in bed being ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTING.

- Since mid-April, I have finally had a chance to collect myself and try to establish an ordinary routine during my lengthy period of unemployment. I have tried to work on editing and writing as much as possible, but sadly it has been almost impossible to find time to work on The Slow Roll. Dan doesn’t have time to work on it anymore, so it’s just me trying to finish writing up Twisted. I feel awful about it and I’m trying to get the website back on track.

That is my story.

Eric Awards 2007

2008-03-05T11:06:00.000-08:00

11th place candidates (best of 2007)
In the Valley of Elah
The Hoax
The Kite Runner
Ratatouille
Starting Out in the Evening

6th place candidates (worst of 2007)
The Bucket List
Because I Said So
Norbit
Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer
The Number 23

Movies it killed me to miss
A Mighty Heart
I'm Not There
Once
La Vie En Rose
Gone Baby Gone
Enchanted (shut up)

Movies it didn't kill me at all to miss
The Darjeeling Limited... oh wait, I didn't miss it, I just forgot about it 10 seconds after leaving the theater

5 best performances by non-humans
1. Rémy the rat in Ratatouille, of course
2. Specter of the Zodiac killer in Zodiac
3. The number 23 appearing absolutely everywhere in The Number 23 -- so versatile!
4. Jessica Biel's rubber hand portraying how hard it is to carry soccer balls in Home of the Brave
5. John Travolta in drag in Hairspray, which my eyes refuse to identify as part of my species

Best performance in a bad movie
Adam Sandler in Reign Over Me

Worst performance in a good movie
Russell Crowe in 3:10 to Yuma

The "Interesting Failure" Mention
Across the Universe, directed by Julie Taymor and starring talented young actors singing Beatles songs... so how did it get so awful?

The "Uninteresting Failure" Mention
Love in the Time of Cholera, directed by Mike Newell and starring Javier Bardem, and I still don't care to meditate on what went wrong

Tagline that should have been
The Golden Compass: "Putting the 'ass' in 'compass'"

Tagline that, unfortunately, actually was
The Number 23: "A number is just a number. Or is it?"

Most awesomely awesome line
"I... drink... your... milkshake! [sucking sound] I DRINK IT UP!" -- Daniel Plainview on milkshakes in There Will Be Blood

Most awesomely terrible line
"Sorry! All out of mercy!" -- Ghost Rider explaining that he is all out of mercy in Ghost Rider

Most terribly terrible line
"He destroyed our family! Why can't you see that? WHY ARE YOU SO STUPID STILL?!" -- Carlos to his brother on their Uncle Michael in Redline

Best line to think about when you're high
"Scientists are saying the future is going to be far more futuristic than they originally predicted." -- Krysta Now in Southland Tales

Most hilariously non-sexy line
"I'm gonna give you the best blow J. With my mouth." -- Becca in Superbad
(Runner-up: "I've got a boner!" -- Fogell "McLovin" in Superbad)
(Second runner-up: "Great! That will give me time to get my jugs waxed." -- Katie Van Waldenberg on personal grooming in Blades of Glory)

The 180° Award
Beowulf, which I saw in 2-D and declared a waste of time, but after seeing in 3-D declared the coolest thing EVAR

The Sideways Award for the movie everyone loved and I hated
The Savages

The Marie-Antoinette Award for the movie everyone hated and I loved
Mr. Brooks

2007: the year of outstanding performances by children
- Saoirse Ronan, as a lying pre-teen in Atonement
- Roger Príncep, as an HIV-positive orphan in The Orphanage
- Dillon Freasier, as Daniel Day-Lewis's deaf son in There Will Be Blood
- Zekeria Ebrahimi and Ahmad Khan Mahmidzada, as best friends torn apart in The Kite Runner

Guilty pleasure
Music and Lyrics

All guilt, no pleasure
I Now Pronounce You Chuck and Larry

All pleasure, no guilt
I Am Legend

Best double play
Michael Cera in Superbad and Juno

Best triple play
Mandy Moore in Romance and Cigarettes, Southland Tales, and Dedication

Worst double play
Jessica Biel in Home of the Brave and I Now Pronounce You Chuck and Larry

Worst triple play
Nicolas Cage in Ghost Rider, Next, and National Treasure: Book of Secrets

Brilliant, underappreciated performances
- Charlize Theron in In the Valley of Elah
- Michael Douglas in King of California
- Molly Shannon in Year of the Dog
- Richard Gere in The Hoax

Best title of the year
Aqua Teen Hunger Force Colon Movie Film for Theaters

Worst title of the year
Who's Your Caddy

Most accurate title of the year
Next, which made me want to call, "Next!"

Least accurate title of the year
Superbad, which was supergood

Most memorable use of nudity in a film
Eastern Promises, in which Viggo Mortensen engages in gory combat with a bunch of thugs... completely naked

Most revolting use of nudity in a film
Love in the Time of Cholera, in which Giovanna Mezzogiorno wears a really unconvincing "naked old lady" body suit

Most confusing use of nudity in a film
Beowulf, in which every possible opportunity is taken to display gratuitous computer-generated ass, which is just... I don't get it

Best use of makeup in a film
Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End

Worst use of makeup in a film
The Bucket List, in which Morgan Freeman's bald cap appears to sit on top of his unflattened hair

Least necessary use of makeup in a film
Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street, in which Helena Bonham Carter is made up to look like, you know, Helena Bonham Carter

Hottest male star
It's a 300-way tie

Hottest female star
Juliette Binoche in Dan in Real Life

Most irredeemably loathsome "comic" character
Robin Williams as a sociopathic priest in License to Wed
(Runner-up: Diane Keaton as a shrieking self-caricature in Because I Said So)

Box office proof that the world is ending
- Norbit worldwide gross: $159 million
- I Now Pronounce You Chuck and Larry worldwide gross: $186 million
- Ghost Rider worldwide gross: $228 million
- Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer worldwide gross: $288 million
- National Treasure: Book of Secrets worldwide gross: $429 million
and finally...
- Transformers worldwide gross: $707 million

Movies to look forward to in 2008
Cloverfield (this is me pretending I actually wrote this entry on time)
Teeth
The Spiderwick Chronicles
Paranoid Park
Funny Games
Run, Fat Boy, Run
Stop-Loss
My Blueberry Nights
Forgetting Sarah Marshall
Baby Mama
Harold and Kumar Escape from Guantanamo
Son of Rambow
Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull
Sex and the City
The Happening
Get Smart
Religulous (which I saw bits and pieces of at TIFF '07)
Wall-E
Hellboy II: The Golden Army
Mamma Mia!
Step Brothers
The Pineapple Express
Quantum of Solace
Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince

Movies to not look forward to in 2008
In the Name of the King
Meet the Spartans
Fool's Gold
The Hottie and the Nottie
College Road Trip
Horton Hears A Who
Drillbit Taylor
Shutter
Superhero Movie
Speed Racer
What Happens In Vegas
You Don't Mess with the Zohan
Hancock
Towelhead (known as "Nothing is Private" when it defiled my eyes at TIFF)
Saw V
Madagascar 2: The Crate Escape

Best and Worst of 2007

2008-03-03T16:28:00.000-08:00

Best of 2007

1. Romance and Cigarettes. The most delightful and original movie of 2007 was made in 2005. It breaks the rules, and your heart. Silly, but never ridiculous.

2. There Will Be Blood. P.T. Anderson's epic oil drama explores human darkness as black as, well, oil. Daniel Day-Lewis, man.

3. Black Snake Moan. Perfectly dirty, sexy, and shocking. Possibly the best Samuel L. Jackson and Christina Ricci have ever been.

4. Atonement. Forget the ads calling it "the most romantic movie of the year." Atonement is about the power of storytelling, and its tragic limitations.

5. Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street. LOVED IT.

6. Southland Tales. Unfairly shelved and ignored when it was finally released. Its closest relative is Romance and Cigarettes, if that means anything to you.

7. Zodiac. A puzzle with no solution -- but the obsessive journey to get there (or, you know, not there) is riveting.

8. No Country for Old Men. Unbearable suspense and a sense of dread to make you shiver every time you remember Chigurh's deranged face.

9. The Orphanage. This haunted house flick from Spain delivers thrills upon chills -- and not a cheap one in the bunch.

10. Paprika. A Japanese animated gem containing a psychedelic parade of mind-bending imagery that somehow makes sense. No really, there's an actual parade.

Worst of 2007

1. Love in the Time of Cholera. If you'd like to believe that Javier Bardem is a good actor, see No Country For Old Men. Otherwise, check out this colossally embarrassing adaptation of the classic novel about love, cholera, and gratuitous nudity. Everyone in this movie thought they were getting Oscar nominations. Meanwhile, John Leguizamo is clearly high.

2. Redline. I'm sure you've never heard of this one. I don't even know how to explain it. There's a bunch of dudes racing fancy cars? And some bikini babe gets kidnapped or something? Anyway, the best part of this movie is when the "hot" girl soulfully sings a song called "I Wanna Be Your Car Tonight."

3. Transformers. Maybe it's because I don't think robots are cool. Or because I like to be able to tell what the fuck I'm looking at when millions of dollars have been spent on special effects.

4. Next. During a chase scene, Nicolas Cage hides (successfully) by DUCKING OUT OF FRAME. Enough said.

5. Premonition. It's soooooooo funny, y'all.

80th Academy Awards: Oscarmath

2008-02-25T11:30:00.000-08:00

I decided to enter this year's "Oscar pool" at work. I wasn't going to participate and then I realized that if I predicted a Michael Clayton sweep and it actually happened, I would be the most amazing human being alive. Even more amazing than someone who had actually seen Michael Clayton and knew what they were talking about.

As you might have already gathered, I totally lost the $80 Oscar pool and will never see my $5 again unless I track down whoever won and become close enough to them so they freely give me $5 and don't ask for it back, like "No don't worry about it, you're like the best friend I've ever had," and then I'll take my $5 back and slap them in the face.

But I have to give myself credit for predicting three wins for The Bourne Ultimatum (100% of its nominations!). Yeah I was just guessing but that's the kind of edgy thinking that can win you $80. I also predicted Marion Cotillard for Best Actress for the same reason: I could totally imagine my own surprise if she won. So I decided not to be surprised.

Unfortunately, this strategy also led me to predict Amy Ryan for Best Supporting Actress. But I firmly believe my Tom Wilkinson for Best Supporting Actor prediction was only slightly off, since Tilda Swinton provided the supporting category Michael Clayton upset I was expecting.

I'm pissed that The Golden Compass won for Best Visual Effects, because it was maximum fugly. But I'll take it if it means that Transformers can never be called "Academy Award-winning Transformers."

It was a good year for speeches -- we didn't fast-forward any of them. Javier Bardem, Glen Hansard, Marketa Irglova, and Marion Cotillard all touched my heart. Tilda Swinton made me laugh out loud. But Brad Bird, bless his heart, made all of us cringe.

Finally, I didn't see Once, but now that I've heard "Falling Slowly" I'm afraid I won't make it without dissolving into a puddle of tears.

A fierce reminder

2008-02-20T13:01:00.000-08:00

Watch America's Next Top Model's 10th season premiere tonight on the CW. This is one of my episodes! Tyra ran into my editor in the hallway and she shook her hand, this episode is so good.

Feel free to gather here after the show and share your thoughts on this episode of America's Next Top Model that you're definitely going to watch on the CW check your local listings etc!

Ama$on.com

2008-02-19T11:39:00.000-08:00

Can you believe that title? It's not even fair. There's no "S" in "Amazon." But you know what I've discovered? There is "$" in Amazon.com. Lots of it. For me. (And Dan.)

When Dan and I moved in together, we were able to merge our DVD collections and see that we owned a lot of the same stuff. In fact, many of his copies were still fully packaged because he is way too busy and important to sit around watching Clue and Britney Spears Greatest Hits: My Prerogative. Not so for me!

As the pile of redundancies grew larger, I started thinking about the boxes and boxes of CDs we had to find a place for, such as the trash or Goodwill because no one listens to CDs anymore. I had just never gotten around to ripping all those albums into my computer, but now I had a mission: I would sell it all. The duplicate DVDs, every single one of my CDs, and whatever CDs Dan was willing to part with, which turned out to be a lot. I'd never sold anything on the interwebs, but I would take whatever small profit I could turn. I mean, Amazon takes a share, right? And used stuff only sells for so much, right?

A week later, this is my life: I'm printing packing slips. I'm buying CD and DVD mailers from Staples. I'm going to the post office every single day with bags of stuff to send out. Every time I check my email, there are more notifications that I've sold more stuff. I'm going home at lunch to package more items. I've made $30, which turns into $50, which turns into $100, which turns into $200. I am an Amazon Marketplace machine. And who knew there was still someone in the world who didn't own Norah Jones's "Come Away With Me"?

So far, my sales have amounted to almost $500, with a nearly $400 profit for me -- er, I mean "us" -- after Amazon takes its share. Here's another interesting fact: Amazon gives you a choice between depositing your earnings right into your checking account, or receiving it in Amazon.com credit. And the thing is, you can buy anything in the whole world on Amazon.com. You can buy books, DVDs, CDs, groceries, electronics, and hair products. You can buy shoes, power tools, and lawn furniture. I don't even have a lawn and I want to buy lawn furniture from Amazon.com. That's how amazing it is.

So I chose to receive the profits in the form of Amazon bucks because (1) it wouldn't be fair to Dan if all that money landed in MY checking account, since half of it was his stuff, and (2) I get a freakin' paycheck already -- I want a SHOPPING SPREE! And with a $400 Amazon.com shopping spree, I can get stuff for both of us. Stuff like a vacuum cleaner, new shoes, a camera tripod, etc. And I can also get stuff that I've always "needed," such as the complete Kids in the Hall box set. BECAUSE THAT'S SOMETHING EVERYONE NEEDS.

By now, sale are dying down, and I'm not waking up to notifications and swelling profits and field trips to the post office before, during, and after work. That's okay, because when I look at the modest pile of CDs and DVDs that used to take up half the bedroom (and will soon disappear completely if my reasonable prices have anything to say about it), I feel like someone paid me hundreds of dollars to clean up my own apartment. And I would like to say that that's a feeling you can't buy on Amazon.com... but you can. Because they sell EVERYTHING!

Aqua cat

2008-02-08T13:30:00.000-08:00

Someone once told me that math is the universal language. Honestly, I thought it was pee. That's how animals communicate. They sure don't use math to mark their territory in the wild. No, they pee on stuff, and other animals understand it to mean, "Someone was here, this place is occupied, kindly fuck off." Maybe I don't understand the process exactly, but that's the gist of it, right?

This is why I don't understand it when Tove (one of our cats) comes bounding into the bathroom every time I pee, hoists his little self over the toilet rim, and observe the proceedings like it's Beowulf in 3-D. This cat is MESMERIZED. You might be wondering why I'm peeing with the door open in the first place. Well, nosy, the litter box is in the bathroom and I'm afraid that if I close it for one second, I will come out to find a hallway full of pooping cats glaring at me as if to say, "YOU did this." (Don't worry, I close the door if anyone else is home. Like it's any of your business.)

Why doesn't Tove understand that my pee means "stay away"? Isn't that instinct or something? Shouldn't he really, REALLY understand that the toilet belongs to humans? We mark it frequently enough. I'm seriously afraid he thinks it's a water fountain. Tove has a freaky obsession with moving water, as we learned upon observing him rocking increasingly heavy water dishes until they spilled all over the floor. He would meow at the water, scoot the dish into the middle of the kitchen, and knock it over before drinking any of it. What a bitch.

Now the cats have a little water cooler (with the upside-down bottle and everything) that's supposed to stay in place AND move the water around whenever they drink from it. Tove hasn't messed with it since we've moved, but he's started doing other weird stuff. Like climbing into the shower and licking the bathmat. That is so freaking gross. Who does that? Tove also started licking water droplets off the shower curtain. Like, I can't imagine being that desperate for water. Does he forget that there's plenty of water in the kitchen? Cats are pretty stupid. I mean, they don't even know math, and it's the universal language.

14 days

2008-01-21T12:06:00.000-08:00

Day 1. Sauwan casually informs David and I that we have until February 5th or so to move out of the apartment. It's a month earlier than we planned, when we gave him notice on December 1st that I was moving out on March 1st. But it's totally doable and the idea of immediately commencing the search for mine and Dan's new apartment is exciting.

Day 4. I get a text from Sara: SAUWAN JUST TOLD DAVID THAT HE'S SHUTTING OFF THE POWER ON THE 20TH! Which means it's not exactly true that we have until early February, since I'm not going to live somewhere with no power. David and I are now charged with finding respective new apartments that will let us move in almost two weeks before the 1st of the month.

By the way, January 20th is my birthday. Thanks a lot, Sauwan.

Day 7. Dan and I fall in love with the first apartment we see, and it's not even in Santa Monica. We plead our way into signing the lease that very day. Our apartment hunt lasted exactly 2 hours of 27 minutes.

Day 14. It's the day before Sauwan is shutting off the power. I have all day to move stuff into my new apartment, but I'm not stressed because I know that even if the power is off, I can sleep at the new place and gradually move stuff to Westwood with my car throughout the following weeks.

I've already hired a man with a van to transport my furniture. Dan has gone ahead to receive our new keys and let me into our new apartment. Both of us have loaded our cars with paper bags full of my stupid belongings. It's a lot more than I anticipated, but doable.

In the middle of the afternoon, Dan and I are at Ikea. We decided it was a good chance to get a couch and some bookshelves, and we would just have them delivered to the apartment the next weekend. It should be simple, right? Unfortunately, Ikea has a brilliant system where if you buy huge pieces of furniture, you have to actually put it on a cart by yourself, take it through checkout, then go to a different area and hand it over to someone else bearing the infuriating news that they only offer next-day delivery.

This is infuriating because tomorrow is my BIRTHDAY. I'm not planning on spending my BIRTHDAY waiting around for a sofa delivery, but I guess in a world where you buy sofas by taking them off a shelf and putting them in your cart, anything can happen. On top of all this, there is no indication in the store of how this process is supposed to work, so I had to guard our smaller purchases while Dan maneuvered a huge sofa and two huge bookshelves through checkout ALL BY HIMSELF. This took an hour and I couldn't even help him and both of us were blind with rage by the end.

That's when I got a text from Sauwan: Do you guys want me to throw out all the stuff you left here?

WE'RE NOT DONE MOVING. There are easily two carloads of stuff left in my room, including my computer. It's late afternoon on the day BEFORE Sauwan is shutting off the power... 16 days BEFORE he initially told us we had to leave... A MONTH AND A HALF BEFORE I had warned him I was moving out in the first place. And he's HURRYING ME by threatening to THROW AWAY MY STUFF. At this point there might actually have been steam coming out of my ears. I probably turned red like a human thermometer in a cartoon. "Just get me there," I growled to Dan, "so I can kill him."

Dan is so sweet. We're all the way in Burbank, so it's going to take at least 40 minutes to get to West Hollywood, but I yell at Sauwan over the phone to leave my fucking stuff alone until I get there. Dan is like, "Don't worry about a thing. I'll get us there. I will get us there, we're on San Fernando Blvd. and I know exactly where we're going." He's patting my hand and whispering soothing assurances and whatnot. That's when I look around and notice that we're going in the wrong direction at like 60 mph. I almost didn't have the heart to tell him. I would have let him drive all the way to the Santa Clarita just to live in that kind of heart-swelling devotion from the man I love. But I really wanted to save my stuff, so I said, "You're going the wrong way, turn around now."

It dawns on me that I was gracious enough to give Sauwan three months notice before I planned on moving out, and he gave me and David 14 days notice to evacuate AND he's trying to throw away my stuff AND he calls me up to tell me, "I need your keys so I can give them back to the landlord this week."

The only thing I can think of is how lucky I am that (1) I was planning on moving anyway, (2) Dan and I found an AMAZING apartment on incredibly short notice, and (3) I was able to move in two whole weeks early without paying prorated rent. When I think about how fortunate I've been in this situation, it's like when you almost get into a fatal car crash and you start shaking when you think about how easily it could have gone differently. What if someone had told me on Day 1 that we might be homeless on Day 14?

By the way, in addition to everything just barely working out perfectly for me, David was also able to find a dream apartment and move in early with only enough hassle to make the experience really, really annoying.

And that is just the beginning of the story! Stay tuned for more moving updates...

Cycle X

2008-01-18T12:28:00.000-08:00

Okay, everyone. The ANTM Cycle 10 girls have finally been revealed and I am SO EXCITED. Do you know why? Because I can't tell you much, but I can tell you that I LOVE this cycle and it's going to be great. And much better than poop on a stick called Cycle 9. This is my favorite since Cycle 7 or maybe 3. And believe me, I would not just say this because I work here.

I can't help it. I'm still a fan. And if that makes me an embarrassment to humanity, I guess I'll come to terms with that.

Check out the new babes, and tune in on February 20th! I worked on the first episode and you totally want to support me.

A very big week

2008-01-09T12:48:00.000-08:00

This story has two parts.

Part 1: Evicted

Okay, not exactly evicted. Early this week, I ran into my roommate outside our building and he casually let me and David know that the landlord was kicking us out of the apartment and we needed to leave by the end of the month. It seems that before I showed up, Sauwan had some roommates who decided it wasn't much fun to pay rent, and now the landlord is tired of Sauwan not ponying up $4,000 for them and we all have to leave.

This news was slightly less devastating because I had already announced that I was moving out on March 1st to get an apartment with Dan. This new development only moved our plans up by a month, which was a lot, but doable. Exciting!

However, it was not exciting when Sauwan later (and again, casually) said, "By the way, the power is shutting off on the 20th!" The 20th, which is notable for being my birthday, is also notable for being 11 days before February, which is a long time to live with no power. I imagined my room as a little cave, isolated from that outside world which was able to be productive past sundown, while I huddled in the dark texting people "CAN U CHECK MY EMAIL" until my phone died and I couldn't recharge it.

Dan and I have been looking up apartments on Westside Rentals and Craigslist and arranging appointments for the weekend, but adding to the chaos is the fact that my birthday, Dan's birthday, and Jessica's birthday all occur around the same week. And Jessica had a friend visiting from out of town. And Dan's parents were going to be in town. And even if we found a place to live before February, David and I would still have to find somewhere else to stay for 11 days because living without electricity is definitely not happening.

Dan and I set up about seven appointments for Saturday and crossed our fingers that we would fall in love with one of them, and we would get the place, and we might be allowed to get our prorated rent on so I didn't have to live in a cave for 11 days. We knew an apartment would be difficult to find anyway, because we had so many items on our list of demands: hardwood floors, dishwasher, balcony, doesn't share walls with other units, two bedrooms if possible... oh, and we want to live in Santa Monica. And our upper limit is $1800. Good luck, us!

Part 2: 147 Minutes

On Saturday morning, Dan cautiously suggested that we see an apartment in Westwood, even though my one MUST MUST MUST MUST requirement was that we live west of the 405. We decided to see the place so we could get a throwaway first appointment out of the way before finding our real apartment.

We saw the Westwood place. We loved it. We begged the manager to let us sign a lease the same day.

Afterwards, we anxiously killed time by seeing some of the other apartments we had planned for the day, but I strongly believe that you just know when you've found the place you're going to live. We saw a place in Santa Monica. We saw a place in Brentwood. We saw a place in Venice. But we just wanted the Westwood building manager to tell us what we wanted to hear.

2 hours of 27 minutes later, she called back and said, "You have REALLY amazing credit. Can you come by this afternoon to sign the lease?" (Of course, Dan's credit is the good stuff. I got a credit report once and there wasn't anything major on it except a credit card I'd never heard of, which I reported and had removed immediately. True story!)

And that's the story of how Dan and I found our dream apartment in just 147 minutes! We're getting the keys next week and we can start moving in as early as we want. So David and I have somewhere to sleep with electricity when our power gets shut off on my birthday! AND it's within walking distance of work, which is weird and awesome! I am going to save hundreds of dollars in gas money. No more driving to work, AND no more driving to Dan's house in Eagle Rock.

I was anticipating a much more stressful weekend, but this takes a huge weight off the entire month. Now we can concentrate on how best to celebrate our three birthdays. And I can start getting some sleep, because I'm not sick for the first time since before Christmas. Hooray!

Fear Dot Fear

2008-01-07T10:46:00.000-08:00

Last night we watched Fear Dot Com (2002), a really shitty movie about a killer website. Maybe you remember it, because it was released around the same time as The Ring, which has a similar plot but was AWESOME.

The idea behind Fear Dot Com is that people visit a website with really scary flash animation and then they die 48 hours later. I really don't know why, but they end up dying of their "worst fear." This doesn't explain how the internet can kill you, which is the stupidest thing I've ever heard, but it got me thinking about my own fears. Here are some of them:

- I have this really strong fear that I will get sick in a way that causes me to hallucinate green lights at intersections, and I will inadvertently run a red light and die in a horrible car accident. I think about this almost every time I drive through any intersection.

- I'm afraid of banging my eyeball on the corner of a table, desk, counter, etc. How could this happen? you might wonder. Well, I might trip randomly and fall face-first into a pointy desk corner. If I have time to shut my eye very tightly before hitting, would it save my eye?

- You know that border between carpet and hardwood floors? Sometimes there are staples poking up that stab your feet? I'm using question marks because I'm not sure if this has happened to anyone else?

- When I first moved into my bedroom, I was vacuuming the floor and saw something in the corner resembling a wad of cotton... When I looked closer, I thought it might be some kind of cocoon made of spider web... Then something inside with a lot of legs started wiggling and I vacuumed it up SO FAST.

- Do you realize that "vacuum" is like the only word I can think of with a double "u"? That's kind of scary I guess. Oh, "continuum."

- I'm scared that the human race is going to destroy itself WAY sooner than we expect. Like, "my kids won't finish growing up" soon. I just think it's going to surprise everyone.

- I'm scared of light fixtures falling on my head. I'll do anything not to stand underneath them. But I don't have a problem walking under ladders.

- There is nothing scarier than man-made environments with no light. Blackouts in a big city... it's just wrong. Complete darkness is okay in a natural environment, like when you're camping, but without light, the world we've built for ourselves is threatening and alien.

- Threatening aliens.

- I'm afraid that most people are really stupid and mean. People I know are delightful and smart and considerate, but I'm afraid that people basically suck. This is mainly when I watch the news.

- I'm afraid of heights.

- I'm afraid of having blood drawn.

- I'm afraid of dogs. And I think I'm right, because once I saw a woman's dog attack her on the street, and I had to drag it off of her by its hind legs. She was actually screaming for help. Now that lady is probably afraid of dogs too.

- Sometimes, I kind of believe in ghosts.

A good year

2007-12-31T15:49:00.000-08:00

I guess this is my last chance to post before the end of 2007. Before December ends and 2008 is kicked off with my first New Year's Eve in New York City. Woo!

It's been a huge year for me. 2007 has brought me a new job, financial stability, my first TIFF, and a new website that I have managed not to lose focus on.

2008 is already shaping up to be even more exciting. If I'm putting it in terms of New Year's resolutions, here is a preliminary list:

1) moving to a better apartment.
2) laser eye surgery.
3) going back to TIFF in September.
4) getting myself to another continent at some point.
5) working at the same company for a whole year.
6) keeping up with The Slow Roll.

The end of a year is always sad, especially such an eventful year, because it feels like there's so much behind you, and the future is so uncertain. But I'm grateful for everything that's happened for me and everyone who has helped me succeed.

I love everyone, and Happy New Year.

Yeah!

Thanksgiving for mom and dad

2007-11-22T10:25:00.000-08:00

It's Thanksgiving. Today is a time to think about everything you're thankful for. Not that you shouldn't appreciate your life every day, but now you can appreciate stuff while dressed in a giant turkey costume and singing Beyonce's greatest hits in front of your family. Oh I'm sorry, you don't do that with your family? EXCUSE ME FOR LIVING.

I'm thankful for many things this year. So much has gone right in my life, so many pieces have fallen into place. I've had good luck but I've also worked hard, and I'm thankful that I've been able to focus and make most of the right decisions. I'm still working on being the best person I can be, and I'm thankful for everyone around me who has helped me do that.

So I want to tell you about my parents, because they're amazing and I love them very much.

When I was growing up, they kept me away from television and I ended up reading every book in my elementary school library. This made me a nerd, I guess, but all the teasing couldn't stop me from devouring any text I could find. My parents had this leather-bound volume of Shakespeare. I stole it away to my room, having no idea what any of the contents meant, but imagining how awesome it would to know it by heart one day. (And I never, ever accomplished that goal. Or anything close to it. Fortunately, who cares.) I ended up reading books like people watch movies -- repeatedly, and in one sitting.

My parents taught me the importance of education. In junior high and high school, while other kids were getting jobs and having to pay for their own cars, my parents imposed a family rule that me and my brothers were not allowed to get jobs while we were in school. It was more important to concentrate on classes and homework. They argued, "You have the rest of your life to work. It makes no sense for you to bag groceries or flip burgers instead of studying." I watched other kids crack under the pressure of having a job and trying to finish their homework, consequently hating both. My parents steered me towards a positive relationship with studying and getting good grades. It had nothing to do with pleasing them, or "getting in trouble" if we weren't doing well.

My parents had tremendous respect for feelings, which sounds like hippie talk, but really it just means they had respect for their children. I was an angry, irrational, annoying teenager (like every other teenager in history). Miraculously, my parents said and did everything just right to give me space without letting me forget that even I teenage-hated them, I loved them and could count on them for anything. They're the ones I talked to about the big stuff. They always respected boundaries, which helped me become less guarded, less angry, and ultimately more respectful of other people's boundaries.

In stages (alternating regularly with the unpleasant alternative), my parents made a lot of money, and we lived in a pretty big house. But I could never become spoiled, because from an early age, my parents taught us how important it is to be smart with money. Me and my brothers received monthly allowances, amounting to $5 per year of life. It seemed like an absurd amount of money, especially at 12 years old (receiving $60), but the thing is, that money covered everything but food and clothing. So if we wanted a book, a toy, a movie, or whatever, there was no begging mom and dad. No childish associations made between how much they bought for us and how much they loved us. It was a matter of whether or not we could afford it. Usually, I couldn't. But I learned. My awareness of my own money has saved my ass when I was abroad, when I moved to LA, when I got my first job... always.

There were two areas in which my parents taught us money was no object: education and travel. They paid for my college education, which is one of the most valuable gifts I've been lucky enough to receive. They paid for my year abroad (which I sort of made up for by living at home for a year), which changed my life and taught me lessons I couldn't have imagined before. An understanding of the world as bigger than my hometown, bigger than my home state, bigger than my own country, is something many people never get to have. I certainly wouldn't say I'm there yet, but I will probably work on it for the rest of my life.

Our family vacations were extraordinary trips built around new experiences, and I learned how important it is to spend time in places and around people completely different from where you came from. We made regular trips to visit family in the Philippines, but we also have family in the Midwest and the South. Our family didn't always have a lot of money, but travel was the one area where it was acceptable to truly strain our finances to make it happen. The fact that we did it as a family was the most important thing.

My parents taught me how hard it is to work hard, follow your dreams, and other gay stuff. Speaking of gay, when I met my first boyfriend, I couldn't wait to take him home (after informing my parents that I was a homo, of course). When mom and dad met him, they welcomed him into our family with open arms. I don't even feel right thanking them for that, because I had no reason to expect anything else. I didn't know anything else. I didn't know how to even imagine my parents disapproving of my "lifestyle." They taught me the most important lesson of all when it comes to the hot topic of same-sex relationships: "Who cares?"

But back to working hard and following your dreams and stuff. My parents show me every day that it's important to challenge yourself and not let go of your dreams. About 10 years ago, my mom sat us down and explained to our family that she was interested in journalism, and was going to take a break from seeing patients in order to start a magazine and a TV show. She said it might mean that our family had less money for a while, but it was important to her and she needed our support. I was so young at the time, but now I understand how scary it must have been for her, and how passionate she was -- and still is -- about these projects. She works on them to this day. Dreams are never over. You can make something out of nothing. My parents taught me that.

Now here I am in Los Angeles, financially independent (that was a big day) and doing all sorts of silly things to make my dreams come true. I feel my upbringing influence me every day, as I try to make the right decisions, know when not to ask for help, but more importantly, know when to ask for help. Mom and dad handed down to me the attitude that there is always more to do, there is always more to learn. There is always room to grow when it comes to yourself. Maybe that sentiment sounds trite. My parents taught me that it's not.

I am the person my parents made me. And for that, I couldn't be more thankful.

The Forgotten Writers Strike of '06

2007-11-20T10:26:00.000-08:00

Dan wrote a great piece for the Los Angeles Times. Read it.

Strong weather, strong language

2007-11-15T14:22:00.001-08:00

Hey, guess what? It's November 15th. Do you know what that means? It means I shouldn't have to worry about going outside and dying of heatstroke. But in fact, I just went outside to get some lunch, and immediately felt like I was being spit-roasted. What the fuck is wrong with this fucking city? It's 86°F out there! It's the middle of November! I fucking understand that it's warmer in LA than most of the country but this is fucking ridiculous! It's fucking snowing in Seattle! It could be snowing in Death Valley and fucking LA would still be a sweltering hellhole! Fucking motherfuck LA. Fucking 86°F in the middle of November. Fucking fuck this place.

Love,

Tyra

Shred this

2007-11-12T10:48:00.000-08:00

I don't know why, but I have a temporary obsession with industrial shredders. Paper shredding is pretty commonplace, but I just watched someone shred a DVD and it blew my mind. Click here to witness the shredding of such things as pumpkins, soccer balls, torpedoes, a sofa, and a motherfuckin' COPY MACHINE.

UPDATED: Thanks to Josh for pointing the way to Will It Blend?

Strike! part 2

2007-11-09T10:16:00.000-08:00

Keep up with pamie for everything you need to know about the current WGA strike.

Slow Roll TV

2007-11-06T18:52:00.000-08:00

Ever since we started The Slow Roll, Dan and I have been making an effort to watch as many bad movies as we can, all the time. We watch a lot of bad movies that are too bad to be funny. Those are dark times filled with the likes of Chris Evans and Whoopi Goldberg. And it's not always easy to apply our slow rolling methods when we're praying that every scene will dump us into the closing credits, which is why we can't stop announcing "credits" over these movies.

(I mean, wouldn't it be amazing if the credits rolled after Honey and kids got fired from the Ginuwine video shoot? It would be a completely different movie. A better one.)

What I'm trying to tell you is that slow rolling methods don't always work when they're supposed to. And then, without warning, they turn up in unlikely places like TV commercials and music videos. All of a sudden it's like, "Um, are we slow rolling the news?"

But some TV shows are totally reliable slow roll fodder, so hilariously awful that I find myself looking forward to them more than my actual favorite shows. I want to share them with you because in all likelihood, you would live your entire life without coming across them. And that would be no kind of life at all.

7th Street Theater. This is like TBN's version of Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip, crossed with an after-school special for children, except I don't think it's for children. It's about a group of performers who put on Christian plays every week, and the backstage lessons they learn about faith, forgiveness, and why it's gay for men to wear earrings. Yes, there is an episode teaching the lesson that Jesus doesn't like men wearing earrings. It is my favorite episode.

News Writing. I don't know how to describe this one. I think it's meant to be shown in schools or something. It's a 15-part series instructing the viewer how to excel at news writing, including exclusive interviews with journalists such as Dan Rather and Dave Barry. It was purportedly filmed in 1993, but the wardrobe, hair, and video quality suggest perhaps the '70s or '80s. It's impossible to explain but News Writing contains some of the craziest imagery I've ever seen. I spent much of my last hiatus watching this show on PBS from 4 AM to 5 AM every Tuesday night.

Moonlight. You may have actually heard of this one -- it's the new "vampire private detective" show that premiered on CBS just last month. In case you're wondering how awful it is, the first line of the show includes a joke about how being a vampire "sucks." Except this show isn't a comedy, and it sucks way worse than being a vampire. Fortunately, it is hilarious, and I knew my life had been changed when I watched the blonde reporter character struggle to construct alliterative headlines for her big story.

Body of Evidence: From the Case Files of Dayle Hinman. This is a true crime show with dramatizations and interviews with Dayle Hinman, a forensic profile who is so good at her job that like 40 women get raped in every single episode, before she solves a damn thing. Here is the template for every single episode:

- Crime happens
- Cops with abundant moustaches try to solve crime
- Cops call Dayle Hinman, who is always doing something exciting when she gets the call (i.e. getting out of a helicopter, doing a puzzle, etc.)
- Dayle points out obvious clues to idiot cops
- Crimes happens many more times
- Perpetrator turns himself in
- Dayle takes all the credit and talks about how great she is at her job

The dramatizations are so terrible, like Dayle obviously plans each episode to make herself look awesome and the cops look stupid. And she never parks her car like a normal person, she drives all up on the lawn wherever she goes. And then there's the "Killervision"...

So if you're looking for some Slow Roll TV to enjoy every week, these are some great options. It's much different from slow rolling movies, so give it a try!

Sweet November

2007-11-01T10:23:00.000-07:00

Los Angeles in November reminds me of the way September is supposed to be. In terms of weather, October was nothing but disappointment as temperatures reached the mid-90s and my will to live plummeted accordingly. 96°F in October? Air conditioner rattling away all night long? Really?

But November has only been around for a matter of hours and it's a world of difference. Gray skies, long-sleeve weather, not raining it smells like it might. And that's a lot better than LA usually smells. I'm sure it won't last, but it kind of felt like a peace offering from a city that closed off the most important leg of my already-hour-long commute last night for Halloween.

Commute? What's that? YES, I'M WORKING AGAIN! And November looks even sweeter than a gray sky because I got a sweet-ass promotion to "Lead Logger," a tremendously misleading title since I won't be logging at all. Around ANTM, the lead loggers help the editors put together the episodes by digging for gold in the loggers' logs and providing (some) input regarding what makes it to your TV. So um, this is the coolest job I've ever had (not to mention the highest-paying... by far!).

I started working on Monday, which couldn't have come at a better time for two reasons: (1) Unemployment is fun when you have money. It's not as much fun when you run out of it; (2) I spent the week before my start date DYING in bed with a terrible cold, or flu, or something else that felt like food poisoning for many days straight (but not quite bad enough or lasting quite long enough to warrant a doctor's visit). And I recovered just in time to start work!

Of course, having a real job means I'm working during the day now, which is a quite a departure from watching the sunrise every morning... from the previous night. I handled it SO much better than last year, probably because almost everyone I knew happened to have the same schedule. For five months, my social thrived between the hours of 1am to 6am. Honestly, everyone in LA should try doing this, because sitting in traffic for two hours every day was temporarily not part of my life.

Of course, sitting in traffic is back, which sucks even though it's worth it. There's no getting around it, since I live in West Hollywood and ANTM is a whopping 6 miles away in Westwood. So it's an hour to work and an hour back, not to mention 9 hours at work, which is a lot different from a six-hour night shift. So I'm exhausted and can't remember what it feels like to have free time, but this is the most fulfilling job I've ever had (even though it's still kind of silly), and I'm happy.

I don't know if this weather is supposed to hold up for a while, but I'm enjoying it while I can. I love this LA.

How to win ANTM: Victoria Marshman talks

2007-10-31T10:05:00.000-07:00

I'm sure I shouldn't say much about this, considering I still work for the show, but here's a revealing interview with Victoria, one of my favorite girls from America's Next Top Model, Cycle 9. All I'm saying is... there's a LOT that didn't make it to TV.

Kirk/Spock and Dumbledore

2007-10-30T18:42:00.001-07:00

I didn't really care when I heard that J.K. Rowling revealed that Albus Dumbledore was gay, because the books are great with or without that information. But I had never actually seen the clip of her saying it, and I hadn't realized that she never actually said "Dumbledore is gay." This is a good article about the crucial difference between "Dumbledore is gay" and "I always thought of Dumbledore as gay."

World wide wiki

2007-10-30T18:35:00.000-07:00

I don't know about you, but at this point, I completely take it for granted that Wikipedia will tell me anything I need to know about anything, ever. I know you're supposed to take those articles with a grain of salt because any dumbass can edit them, but I think the system is working in terms of flagging uncited information. In any case, if you've forgotten how inspiring it is that we built this resource ourselves, check out this world map tracking real-time edits on Wikipedia.

Dan in Real Life / ***

2007-10-23T12:07:00.000-07:00

Dan in Real Life is a good movie, but it’s also proof that casting can make or break a movie. Not that Dan‘s script isn’t smart and sweet, because it is, but it might easily have resulted in something closer to, well, a Dane Cook movie. (Cook is actually in this movie, but thankfully in a supporting role that doesn’t give him room to be obnoxious.) This is an unapologetically conventional movie armed with two of the most appealing leads around: Steve Carell and Juliette Binoche.

Dan Burns (Steve Carell in real life) is an advice columnist with three daughters, raising them on his own after the death of his wife. Every year, the family tree rents a house and reunites for a week of quality time, crossword puzzles, and a rather elaborate talent show. With two angry teenage daughters (Brittany Robertson and Alison Pill), Dan ventures out to buy the newspapers one morning and encounters Marie (Juliette Binoche in real life) (okay I’ll stop now). Dan and Marie hit it off, before she realizes she is late for something and disappears.

It turns out that Marie is late for the Burns family reunion, as she is the new girlfriend of Dan’s brother, Mitch (Dane Cook). This is the setup for a series of complications which, after all, are not that complicated – Marie realizes pretty quickly that she’s with the wrong brother, but no one wants to hurt Mitch or ruin the family get-together.

Meanwhile, the house is teeming with family, including Dianne Wiest and John Mahoney as mom and dad, two of the most appealing mom and dad types this side of Diane Keaton and Craig T. Nelson (who starred in the similar The Family Stone). Everyone can see that Dan is acting strange, but no one guesses what’s really going on, even when Dan tenderly croons “Let My Love Open the Door” to Marie during the talent show. This is a moment that could have made me groan, but something about the fact that Dan (and/or Carell) REALLY can’t sing made it a real tear-jerker.

Let me talk about the casting some more. If there’s one thing Carell does better than anyone else, it’s comedy with a heart. That’s why The Office is as painful as it is hilarious, and that’s why nobody else on earth could have played Andy in The 40-Year-Old Virgin. And the Binoche! It’s too bad I’ve used up my quota for the word “appealing” in this review, because that’s what she is. When I found out she was in this movie, I thought, “Doesn’t she have, like, something Oscar-worthy to star in?” But it’s such a pleasure to see her in a movie that lets her be adorable (and kinda hot), and like Carell, she brings something extra to a potentially annoying role.

And then, just when you’ve forgotten seeing her name in the opening credits, Emily Blunt shows up in a scene-stealing role that cements her status as our new favorite British import.

Like Dan, of course, Dan has its problems. Maybe Dan’s daughters turn against him just a little too hard over every little thing. Maybe Dan’s family is a little insensitive when he starts acting strange. Maybe Dan’s relationship with his brother is left CRIMINALLY UNRESOLVED by the end of the movie. But I didn’t really care, because I was just so happy to see Dan and Marie end up together. Now that’s the sign of a good romantic comedy.

Chicken feet, whips

2007-10-17T11:57:00.000-07:00

It all started when I rented A Sound of Thunder, a shitty sci-fi movie about people going back in time and accidentally ruining the future. This was pretty interesting when it was a short story by Ray Bradbury, but in order to make it into a feature film, they added a terrible plot and some crunk special effects, including a raggedy weave for Ben Kingsley. Basically, it's one of the dumbest movies ever made... but it's a really good slow roll.

Well, there's a part where one character is teasing someone, and he says, "I bet you go crazy at home, right? Lampshade on your head. Chicken feet, whips." For some reason this phrase stuck in my brain, possibly because this actor (David Oyelowo) is inadvertently singing it. And also because "chicken feet, whips" makes absolutely no sense at all. Is this a fetish I don't know about? Since when does "chicken feet, whips" mean someone is crazy? I don't even know what someone would do period with "chicken feet, whips," let alone something crazy.

Soon, "chicken feet, whips" became a way of explaining that something makes no sense. It actually entered my vocabulary as a completely normal thing to say. Everyone I know started saying it. And that's when Jake created a song out of it. And it was really good, because he's a genius, and also because David Oyelowo is TOTALLY singing this line! Why? Chicken feet, whips.

Also, Jessica had set up her Avid in Dan's living room, so I've had this professional editing equipment at my disposal, and I decided to teach myself how to edit. I've been messing around with footage Dan and I shot in Toronto, but now I had a mission: to edit a music video for "Chicken Feet, Whips" using only scenes from A Sound of Thunder.

So I stayed up all night on Monday and did it.

Here it is.

Credits.

October surprise

2007-10-06T09:48:00.000-07:00

I can't believe it's already October. Although who could blame me when it's still 500 degrees around here every day. At least it was, until yesterday and this morning. LA's version of "autumn" may be the same as summer with a light breeze added, but that breeze can make all the difference sometimes. There were a few clouds in the sky, making it much prettier than the usual unbroken blue.

Now that the weather is finally convincing me that time is actually passing, I can't believe how much has happened since the new year. I've had four jobs. I started a new website. My brother moved in with me. I went to the freakin' Toronto International Film Festival. On top of all this, I've been spending time with some of the best friends I've ever had, and discovering that bad movies are a way of life.

I've come this close to leaving LA for good on so many occasions, but I haven't done it. I have to admit I kind of hate it here, but I love living here, if that makes sense. Let's just say, I love the life I've made here, but every time I go outside and remember where I am, I'm very, very sad. This excuse is way old around here, but the heat is a real dealbreaker. I wasn't made for temperatures above 70°F. Even sunshine becomes ugly when you feel like it's killing you.

It's October! It's already time to start making plans for Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas. It's time to start getting used to the number "2008" even though it still sounds like The Future to me.

Post-TIFF journal

2007-09-14T12:33:00.000-07:00

I've been back from Toronto for a few days, and LA is much a much friendlier place than I left it. The temperature has gone down significantly, so it's actually possible to go outside without crying and having the tears evaporate directly from my cheeks. Getting out of LAX was a breeze for once, and on our way out of the baggage claim, a man fumbling with his bag and a cigarette asked Dan and I if we had a light. It was Geoffrey Rush!

After a whole film festival full of A-list stars staying on a single street in Toronto with zero on-the-fly celebrity sightings, it turns out I shared my flight back to LA with the star of the movie playing on the plane (Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End). Unfortunately, as Dan quit smoking six years ago to preserve his health or something gay like that, we could not offer Geoffrey Rush a light. But he smiled at us anyway, and I've totally started smoking in case something like this happens again.

So, TIFF is over, but only for us -- the festival is still going on! It makes me a little sad to think of that catchy Bell Lightbox theme going on every day without us, but I'm also alarmed by Vickie's reports of exhaustion and generally feeling over it this year. Next year (and I WILL be there next year!), I plan on sticking to two films a day, but staying for the duration of the fest. I wasn't ready to leave Toronto on Tuesday... but I'm not ready to take on four films a day, either. I remember doing that at SIFF, but I lived there at the time so it was a little different.

I'm unemployed! After going straight to the airport from my last day of work, it was such a relief to come home and have nothing to do the next day (or night). Well, that's not exactly true -- I had two Slow Roll updates to pound out, but at least I didn't have to transcribe models for eight hours afterward. I couldn't remember the last time I watched a (non-Slow Roll) movie at home! So David and I finally sat down and watched Dedication, the romantic comedy starring Billy Crudup and Mandy Moore. And it was so good, in such unexpectedly dark and touching ways, I felt like TIFF had followed me home.

It's time to breathe for a month before Cycle 10 commences. It's not like my job is the most stressful, but I get anxious when there isn't time to write. I have to remember why I'm here in LA, which is sometimes difficult because I don't know what I'm doing, what I'm trying to do, or how I'm supposed to do it. All I know is, I would be famous by now if I had just given Geoffrey Rush a damn light. I just know it.

TIFF journal: lows and highs

2007-09-10T23:20:00.000-07:00

Y'all, it finally happened, and you knew it would. Dan and I caught a major dud at the festival today: Nothing is Private, the new film written and directed by Alan Ball. I know you loved American Beauty and Six Feet Under, but in his directorial debut, Alan really drops the Ball. Geddit? But seriously, his movie stinks.

Nothing is Private is another story of dirty secrets in the suburbs, only this time the only secret is raping. Everyone is raping. Raping and shaving a 13-year-old half-Lebanese girl named Jasira. That's pretty much the whole movie, and if you think I'm overlooking some deeper meaning or subtext, you're wrong. There's "fearless," "edgy," and even "exploitative" can be interesting, but this movie is worse -- it's boring and has nothing to say. You haven't directed a good movie if the pregnant character gets seriously injured and half the theater laughs out loud.

Alan Ball gave a brief Q&A, but the only information established was that he really, really loved his own movie. And shockingly, so did most of the audience -- I was honestly expecting boos when the credits started to roll. But man, you should have seen Alan Balls tense up when someone began a question with, "I noticed this film had a lot in common with American Beauty..." Boy, does he think his work has been varied. He's wrong.

As Vickie walked us across town to the Scotiabank Theatre, the three of us swapped favorite bad movie moments from Nothing is Private, until it was time to part ways for good (for now). We said our goodbyes to Vickie in the lobby of the Sheraton Hotel, lamenting the fact that we didn't instantly hate each other upon meeting in person so this moment wouldn't suck so much. But it did.

Dan and I moved on to see Four Women, an Indian film based on four short stories about different women: The Prostitute, The Virgin, The Housewife, and The Spinster. It was a quiet film, but very good and completely different from anything we had seen at the fest so far. The director and one of the stars gave an unfortunately abbreviated Q&A, thanks to projector problems that set the screening back 25 minutes.

Immediately afterward, we moved to the next auditorium over for Forever Never Anywhere, which was undoubtedly the biggest gamble and subsequent payoff of the fest. The premise: three men are stuck in a car for, like, the whole movie. They talk a lot and learn about each other and stuff. That's what I had to go on, and besides being intrigued, I wanted to squeeze in a German film so I could play translator in my head.

With a setup like that, this movie could have been slow, boring, or overly artsy, but it was pure entertainment (and still kind of artsy). In fact, the ending literally made Dan scream out loud in the theater, not because it was frightening but because it was horrifying, in the most hilarious way possible. What we didn't know about the plot going in was that a young boy was deliberately keeping the men trapped in the car and performing experiments on them like lab rats (for example, playing audio of an approaching police car on a boombox). It's pretty twisted.

Today was our only triple-feature day of the fest, and it was a great way to end my first TIFF. Of course, the festival is still going on for the rest of the week, but Dan and I are flying back to LA tomorrow morning. Really, I couldn't imagine a better way to end this amazing trip than a hysterically bad movie in the morning, followed by a somber and eye-opening movie, followed by a movie where someone takes a dump in a gold purse -- and it's philosophical, too!

TIFF journal: a little something extra

2007-09-09T23:43:00.000-07:00

This was a very eventful day, in part because it began at a reasonable hour. Dan and I woke up at the crack of 10 AM for a 1 PM screening of Religulous, which was actually less than a screening and something extra instead: Bill Maher and Larry Charles hosted clips from their upcoming satirical documentary on organized religion, before engaging in an extended Q&A with a host as well as the audience.

How can I explain how excited we were for this? Probably not by telling you it wasn't even our first choice. When we found out we got it, though, I couldn't believe it had taken a back seat to The Orphanage (though I'm desperate to see that one now that I've heard it's amazing). We love Bill Maher, we love Larry Charles, and most importantly, we want to be in the same room as celebrities. What a deal!

The clips from Religulous were extremely rough, and I was surprised to hear the movie isn't coming out until next spring. Even at this point, however, you could tell the footage was pure gold. I'm a little concerned that it might try to be funny more often than letting the hilarious absurdity of religion speak for itself -- I'm hoping they show a little more restraint in editing the final film. But, as they frequently reminded us, it's very much a work in progress. And at least I wasn't the douche who raised his hand to publicly make this criticism, and got smacked down by Larry Charles.

After the screening, Dan and I met Vickie for a late lunch/early dinner in Midtown. Let me say this once instead of every other paragraph like I want to -- Vickie is the greatest. Besides all the emailing, and the invaluable support she has provided as I clumsily planned this festival vacay from 3,000 miles away, I've had a blast meeting Vickie in person and hanging out with her this week. I LOVE VICKIE. So, like, we had a good time at lunch and stuff.

From lunch, Vickie led us to the Four Seasons for a celebrity hunt that began outside, scouring hopefully with the rest of the gawkers; proceeded around the building, wandering amongst industry folk at play; and concluded by actually entering the hotel, playing it cool as we scanned the lobby for familiar faces. Unfortunately, our mission was an utter failure, as the only celebrity we spied was a well-known publicist. Again, I wonder why I'm so eager to see celebrities when I live in LA. Even there, however, I've had no luck, although I did pass Michael Vartan in Bristol Farms once. He seemed pretty pissed that I grabbed the last california roll -- out of his hands, sucka! (Not really.)

Before going to our second film of the day, I ran into the hotel to put in some contacts in case we wanted to play Fake Celebrity with my giant sunglasses. (We did this before, with Dan filming me, and boy did those heads turn). But this time, it wasn't meant to be, as my contact lens ripped after I put it in my eye. So instead of getting in line geekily early for our movie, I spent like 45 minutes in front of the bathroom mirror fishing scraps of contact lens randomly and PAINFULLY drifting over my eyeball. That will teach me to play with the hearts of celebrity-hunters.

We ended up getting a decent place in line, and watching a documentary called Night, which explores the topic of... wait for it... night. It was a Baraka-type collection of images and music, with some voiceover from anonymous people offering comments on night, what it means to them, etc. The movie was gorgeous, with oodles of astonishing photography and a dreamily free-form narrative. It was so dreamy, in fact, that I almost fell asleep during the screening, and actually believe the movie would have "approved."

And then beer and poutine happened. Again.

Finally, as if it was not enough that two more movies had gone by without a single dud on my fest schedule so far, I heard the news that Vickie had walked out on Bill.

Let me tell you something about Bill. When I got my very, very first internship in LA, one of my very, very first duties was to write coverage for a little script called Bill. At that time, no one owned the script, it was floating around Hollywood and passed through our office long enough for me to evaluate it thusly: "I did not enjoy reading this script at all. I believe I would enjoy watching it even less." For two years, I have remembered this script for how awful it was, and winced as I followed its production in the trades.

And then, three weeks ago, I'm browsing the TIFF schedule and what do I see? Bill. And then, six hours ago, I'm asking Vickie what she's seeing next, and what does she say? Bill! I was thrilled at the chance to hear how it turned out, because honestly, a lot can happen in two years, and I was (sort of) open to the idea that it wouldn't suck. You never, ever know.

But in this case, I totally did.

TIFF journal: riots and rebirth

2007-09-08T23:55:00.000-07:00

It's not every day that you can say your first order of business is going to the movies with Charlize Theron, but that's exactly what we did at 3:00 PM today. Joining the 'Lize in support of their new film Battle in Seattle were Michelle Rodriguez, Andre Benjamin, Martin Henderson, Woody Harrelson, and of course, writer-director Stuart Townsend. After the whole gang went up to introduce the film, they took their seats to actually watch it with us, as it was the very first time this movie would be shown in front of an audience.

Battle in Seattle was much better than I expected, and I was nervous about it. Maybe something about it taking place in my hometown prevented me from taking it seriously, and the silly title didn't help. Well, I don't think it's silly anymore. This was a powerful (though clumsy at times) account of the WTO riots that tore Seattle apart in 1999. The 'Lize is especially great, for anyone still smarting from Aeon Flux.

The film received a lengthy standing ovation, and whether or not it deserved it, I turned to Dan and whispered, "We're in the middle of one of those film festival standing ovations that gets mentioned on the movie's Wikipedia page!" You know, like Fahrenheit 9/11 (20 minutes) or Pan's Labyrinth (22 minutes). Ultimately, this one probably didn't clear 10 minutes, but it was still exciting. And it was awfully touching to see Townsend and the gang receiving such enthusiastic props for a true labor of love.

As Townsend, Theron, Rodriguez, Henderson, Benjamin, and Harrelson reappeared onstage for the Q&A, I remembered to keep an eye out for Rodriguez's alcohol-detection bracelet, but it was nowhere to be found. I also tried to keep an eye on Charlize, as she looked so ready to go home that I was afraid she would disappear if I blinked. She was definitely supportive of her ~~husband~~ long-time boyfriend, but she certainly wasted no time making tracks out of there! As for Townsend and the rest of the cast, they were passionate and informative, which was a pleasure to see.

Dan and I passed the remainder of the afternoon with some delightful conversation (and beer and appetizers) with Vickie's friend Heather. As the nachos disappeared (as reliable a method of keeping time as any), I realized it was almost 7 PM and dashed out of the pub to buy a TIFF '07 t-shirt before the box office closed. Because everything in this city is ridiculously convenient, the box office was not only nearby, it was across the street and visible out the window from our table.

Eventually, Dan and I located the theater on time, and observed the industry peeps enjoying their Saturday night -- not seeing movies, but schmoozing each other in dense clusters along the sidewalks and in bars and restaurants. It was like watching a nature documentary. It was also a lot like being home in LA. Again, I was filled with secret yearning to be one of them, something that never happens in LA. I just want the summer camp version of their film industry lives, which really just means I want to hang out in Canadian bars for a living.

At 9:45 PM, we saw Boy A, the story of a young man struggling to reenter the world, having been imprisoned after commiting murder as a child. Continuing our streak of fortuitous film choices, this one was nearly faultless and featured a hell of a debut performance by Andrew Garfield. Director John Crowley as well as Garfield provided a Q&A after the screening, and it was really interesting and Garfield is so dreamy and talented and dreamy and did I mention he was cute. Unfortunately, you could hardly tell, as someone neglected to turn on the spotlight, forcing Crowley and Garfield to answer questions from the shadows.

Afterwards, we sat on the large rock (if there's an actual name for this well-known rock, I don't know it) and people-watched, remembering that this is probably the last big night of the fest as far as celebrity sightings are concerned, as Vickie informed me that they front-load the festival to allow industry folk to return to LA on Sunday. So far, I have had horrible luck spotting celebrities on the street, though the Battle in Seattle crew wasn't too shabby!

UPDATED: David has sent me an eyewitness report that Charlize is shooting Hancock in LA. She probably had to fly back from Toronto immediately after Battle in Seattle -- like I said, she was genuinely supportive of her man, just very antsy. David took this picture of Hollywood Boulevard totally shut down for Hancock production:

TIFF review: My Winnipeg / ****

2007-09-07T23:02:00.000-07:00

Film festivals can allow you to have moviegoing experiences you might never have otherwise. I remember seeing a special print of The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari with live musical accompaniment at SIFF '01 (taking a look at my review I see I have learned a lot about the silent era since then!)

Guy Maddin did not make films in the silent era, but his movies have always emulated their style (most recently The Saddest Music in the World) while bringing something new and bizarre and beautiful. My Winnipeg is a documentary, sort of, about Maddin's childhood, sort of, and the city he grew up in, sort of. It's hard to explain.

What made this screening more special than usual was the fact that Maddin himself was there to narrate the film! While music and some dialogue came from the film, Maddin stood to one side and performed bizarre and hilarious narration leading us through his childhood in desolate Winnipeg, and a fictional (?) account of his quest to sublet the house he grew up in and film a reenactment of his upbringing using lookalike actors -- and his real mother. But it's not his real mother, it's Ann Savage. And the woman subletting the house decided at the last minute that she didn't want to leave, so she's hanging out in every shot.

Maddin's Winnipeg is a snowy prison, where everyone is trying to get out, but they can't stay awake on the train and end up right back where they started. It's a city inhabited by ghosts with jangling keys, sleepwalking anywhere but the Manitoba Sports Hall of Fame. Words flash onscreen for a few frames, bizarre and beautiful images are superimposed over each other. One sequence is particularly surreal, playing out without a word from Maddin.

This is a really, really weird movie. I want to emphasize how funny it is, because that's what surprised my viewing partner the most: how much he laughed (the reenactment scenes are especially hilarious). My Winnipeg is a comedy, but it's probably closer to a documentary, though I have no idea how much of it was real and invented. It's also quite sad, such as when a landmark sports arena is destroyed to make way for... well, an unused lot, as of today. (Sadly, demolition footage shows that this part is real.)

In conclusion: if you can see My Winnipeg, even if you can't have Guy Maddin performing it for you in person, don't miss it!

TIFF review: Le Voyage du Ballon Rouge / ***

2007-09-07T21:01:00.000-07:00

Le Voyage du Ballon Rouge features several performances that are so good, you might overlook how good they are -- because they don't seem like performances. They don't feel like performances. The camera lingers on a character, a room full of characters, or simply a red balloon, for unbroken takes lasting up to 10 minutes. There was no script, according to Juliette Binoche in the Q&A, just a 20-page synopsis. The rest is life.

Of course, a movie is not exactly life. Binoche plays Suzanne, a woman living in Paris with her young son, Simon (Simon Iteanu), and a new nanny, Song (Fang Song). Suzanne is a mess, with her wildly mismatched layers of clothing, jangling collection of keys, and a way of filling a room with her frenetic energy. Song is distinctly opposite in how reserved and collected she is, but she is also warm, and cares for Simon very much.

And then there is the red balloon, seen drifting through Paris in the opening scenes, and making several appearances throughout the film. It seems to be wandering, briefly finding interest in a train car or street lamp, before leisurely moving on. (By the end, for some reason -- although this might have been my sleep-deprived imagination -- the red balloon appeared to be actively stalking young Simon.)

It could be argued that nothing happens in La Voyage du Ballon Rouge: it is not about culture clash between the Suzanne and Song (who is from China), it is not about Suzanne learning to put her child before herself, it is not about working together to overcome a major obstacle. The movie is about life, and it is brilliantly directed by Hsiao-Hsien Hou to feel as organically dull and fascinating as life.

Unfortunately, approaching the two-hour mark, this movie veers closer to dull than fascinating, and I spent the last half hour thinking, This must be the last shot. It's not? Oh. Why not? I didn't even think to check my watch until 90 minutes in, because the film was so mesmerizing and beautiful -- but I spent the last 30 minutes checking every 30 seconds.

What is the voyage of the red balloon? I can't say I know from watching Le Voyage du Ballon Rouge. I'm sure I'm supposed to understand it on a symbolic or metaphorical level, but maybe I'm just not smart enough to see what Juliette Binoche has in common with a red balloon -- except that they both give fantastic performances in this movie.

TIFF journal: waking late, feeling great

2007-09-07T19:03:00.000-07:00

Today began, surprisingly, around 12:30 PM. Who knew I would require 11 hours of sleep after my 13 1/2-hour snooze-athon the previous night? It's very, very fortunate that our first movie didn't start until 2:45 PM, because it could easily have been a few hours earlier, and we would have slept through 50% of our TIFF screenings at that point. What a waste of time and effort that would have been... for Juliette Binoche.

That's right, Dan and I were four rows away from the Binoche herself as she introduced her new film, Le Voyage du Ballon Rouge, and indulged the audience in a Q&A session after the screening. Binoche (she insists that I call her "Jules" when we're out clubbing, but I'll remain formal here) was adorable and engaging, although she was wearing something that looked like pieces of many horrible outfits stitched together to make a new horrible outfit. I'm just reporting what happened, everyone.

I can also report that the movie was very good, although extremely long. I can't say my conflicting sleep schedules didn't make it a little hard to keep my eyes open, but for the last half hour it was the movie's fault. I mean, okay, the red balloon is a metaphor. Credits?

After a rather upsetting egg salad sandwich hastily purchased and scarfed down in line, it was time for a real meal. And boy, did we find one at Hero Certified Burgers, possibly one of the best burgers I've ever had. And the french fries were effing amazing, prepared exactly like "chips" served in the UK. So delicious. So fried.

By the time we had completed Food Orgy '07, it was time to make tracks for the Winter Garden Theatre to see Guy Maddin's My Winnipeg. This theater was truly stunning, built in 1913, classic and elaborate with a forest theme extending to synethetic foliage hanging from the ceiling. This unexpected brush with theatre history was made even more special when I found out it was totally a porn theater in the '70s. (Read more about the Elgin and Winter Garden Theatres here.)

The screening itself was also unexpectedly thrilling, as Guy Maddin himself took the stage to perform live narration (not commentary) during the film. The movie was brilliant, and seeing it this way made it even more unique, as he admitted in the Q&A that he did not plan on providing live narration for this movie again.

Day 2 of the festival has been a rousing success: one good movie, one great movie, two Q&As, and a new desire to hang out with Guy Maddin's mom in Winnipeg.

TIFF review: Starting Out in the Evening / ****

2007-09-06T21:56:00.000-07:00

I know it's my first film of the festival, and I vowed not to overrate out of excitement, as I sometimes did at SIFF just because the fest movies are so much better than whatever is playing at a theater near me. Starting Out in the Evening, in fact, has had an uphill journey for me so far. I only got tickets for it because my first AND second choices for the day were unavailable. And the synopsis sounded so much like Venus, which I already loved, that I had already prepared myself for something cuddly and mildly provocative. And dull.

Heather Wolfe (Lauren Ambrose) is a young graduate student writing her thesis on Leonard Schiller (Frank Langella), an acclaimed novelist in his twilight years. When she visits him in person to request a series of personal interviews, Schiller politely turns her away. Later, however, Schiller comes across one of Heather's pieces in a literary journal. He is intrigued. He invites her to come by once a week to discuss his work, so long as she doesn't interfere with his work time; Schiller is writing another novel, and fears he may not live to complete it.

That's the setup for a complex meeting of minds (and perhaps bodies) that reveals depths of these characters I'm almost positive no other pair of actors could pull off, at least not as delicately. Heather's near-worship of Leonard is almost frightening, but her eagerness fades as she struggles to reconcile the literature that has changed her life with the man who disappoints her even as she pulls him closer. Meanwhile, Leonard gradually accepts Heather's increasing presence in his life, never certain of her status as potential friend, lover, or daughter.

Leonard remains close with his actual daughter, Ariel (Lili Taylor), a 40-year-old yoga instructor facing a rekindled romance with Casey (Adrian Lester), who abruptly left her 5 years ago. Something about Taylor has never convinced me before, but here she stands out as a woman essentially deciding if her happiness is worth the cost of her happiness.

But this movie 100% belongs to Langella and Ambrose. Their relationship crosses the line of propriety so quickly, it may take you some time to realize you didn't even hesitate to follow them. To what extent did Heather invade Leonard's life, and to what extent did he facilitate her invasion? Who is responsible for what happens next? What does this really have to do with literature? Indeed, literature itself -- its origins, its effects, its cost -- is an incredibly powerful presence in the film.

This all seems pretty vague, but that's everything you need to know. Each and every scene is truly a surprise (and sometimes a shock). Ambrose's performance is one of the best by any actress her age, ever, as Heather learns she may be exactly as naïve and selfish as she fiercely believed she wasn't. Langella's Leonard is pitch perfect as an imperfect man whose life is changed forever by this tumultuous relationship.

And it was SOOOOOO much better than Venus.

In short, I couldn't recommend this movie more, and what an amazing way to kick off the festival!

TIFF journal: opening night

2007-09-06T21:55:00.000-07:00

I guess today is technically our first full day in Toronto, although Dan and I spent much more time awake and doing stuff yesterday, since we arrived in town at 6:30 AM and didn't sleep until 9 PM. Kind of shockingly and kind of unsurprisingly, we slept for a whopping 13 1/2 hours last night. And magically, it appears that in one night, I have overcome not only the difference in time zone, but my nocturnal sleep schedule that is offically over now that I'm done with ANTM. If I go to bed at a decent hour tonight, I could be in the clear when it comes to staying awake and actually experiencing Toronto.

We kicked off the day by eating in one of the hundreds of food courts underneath the city. Toronto is like, half underground. There is a massive labyrinth beneath downtown including shops, restaurants, coffeeshops, drugstores, and of course, the subway. You could navigate most of the city without ever seeing daylight if you wanted to. And boy, do I find that prospect appealing! LA could use a system like this, for when it's 100°F as it has been for weeks in the hell hole I call home. Interestingly, I seem to have brought a little heat wave with me, as it reached a muggy 90°F in Toronto today.

We visited the CN Tower, which, in case you don't know (as I didn't), is that defining spindle in the Toronto skyline. To my delight, we could walk there from the hotel without spending more than 5 minutes outside, thanks to a covered "Skywalk" that further convinced me that Toronto residents need to feel like they're underground even when they're above ground. Riding a glass elevator to the top of the CN Tower and enjoying a 360° panorama of the city was a somewhat familiar experience thanks to growing up in the home of the Space Needle, but it was still an amazing view of the city (though visibility was conspicuously limited thanks to a haze of smog and humidity).

At the top of the tower, there is an area with glass floor so you can see the city directly below your feet. You can imagine how well I handled this, although I couldn't not conquer it. But I did spend some time crawling on it before building up the courage to stand, and after that I cowered in the corner a tiny bit. One little girl ran onto the floor and immediately started STOMPING as hard as she could with both feet. What a surprisingly young age for a death wish.

Tonight, of course, we attended our very first TIFF screening, Starting Out in the Evening (starring Frank Langella and Lauren Ambrose) on the opening night of my very first TIFF! Vickie met us for dinner and an entertaining discussion of Jessica Biel spin-offs ("Loving Annabiel"; "Spongebiel Squarepants"). You see, Dan and I invented a game called, "How could this movie be worse?" where you imagine Jessica Biel in the lead role of a movie, usually already terrible. Trust me, it's more amazing than Apples to Apples.

Vickie walked us to the Varsity theater, and along the way we spotted hordes of "industry types" crowding the area, with their little laminated passes proudly displayed even though they were just walking around on the street or checking into the Four Seasons. Of course we made fun of them, but of course I want to be one of them. Come on! I would make a great industry type. I already take myself too seriously and like to wear high heels.

The line at the Varsity was INSANE. There were multiple lines next to each other as well as combined with each other, as there were lines for certain movies and one line for whatever movies didn't have their own lines. After being misinformed, Dan and I ended up in the right line and snagged great seats before the theater got really crowded. And in addition to our first movie of the fest being ABSOLUTELY AMAZING, there was an illuminating Q&A with Andrew Wagner (co-writer, director, and producer) afterward.

Also, completely randomly, I ran into a girl I worked with at First Look Pictures (whose King of California is playing here at TIFF). Well, she worked there, and I was interning. But it was interesting running into her, because of how weird it didn't seem; as Vickie pointed out, this is like movie industry summer camp, which disguises the fact that we're 3,000 miles and an international border away from home.

After the film, Dan and I stopped in a nearby pub for some beer and poutine (french fries covered in cheese and gravy), which is possibly the most winning combination since beer and poutine. Did I already say beer and poutine? That's just how winning a combination it is.

We walked back to the hotel, fully satisfied with our first day of TIFFing. The days to come bring many more films, and I'm looking forward to exploring the city further now that it's fully in festival mode!

TIFF journal: the beginning

2007-09-05T17:02:00.001-07:00

I’m writing this from my hotel room in Toronto, where I’ll be attending the Toronto International Film Festival (TIFF) for the next seven days.

This has been a huge dream of mine since I started going to the Seattle International Film Festival (SIFF) in 2001. I’ve always wanted to visit Toronto, I’ve always read Vickie’s amazing TIFF diaries, but I’ve never had the funds to get my ass across the continent to share in this amazing experience. Until now!

This is the year I decided to put every spare dollar towards making this Canadian dream come true. Back in April, Dan and I booked our flights and a swank hotel room for cheap. A few months later, we purchased some advance ticket packages. Last week, we scheduled our picks and FedExed the order form to participate in the lottery (!) that would determine whether we would see the films we wanted or not. Last night, we got on a plane and five hours later we were in Toronto. Airplanes are amazing! No wonder it costs so much money to ride them.

Dan and I are staying at the Hotel Victoria, which I would like the record to state I chose solely because it is named after Vickie (as well as being affordable and conveniently located, of course). Hotel Victoria is like, okay, maybe some hookers died in the exact spot where I’m writing this, but this place has really pulled itself together. Now it’s fancy and modern, but still has “character.”

After three hours of sleep on the plane, the first thing we did in Toronto was head to the TIFF box office to pick up our tickets and redeem a voucher for one more movie choice. Because nothing can ever go smoothly, we faced several issues here:

1) You must have a pick-up voucher to collect your tickets. You must have it. They send it to you with your order forms. YOU MUST HAVE IT. Needless to say, we didn’t have it. I’m pretty sure I FedExed it right back to them with our order forms, because I’m so smart.

2) When picking out your movies, you must schedule your screenings so they don’t conflict with each other -- but because of the lottery system, you might not get all your picks, so you must create a schedule of alternates that won’t conflict with each other OR your first choices. We ended up with tickets to three of our alternates, but for Thursday we didn’t get our first choice OR our alternate. So we had to choose another movie in person.

3) When we arrived at the box office, the line stretched out of the office, down the hall, out the revolving doors, around the corner, and down the outside of the building.

Fortunately, the abbreviated third act of this story is, they gave us the tickets without a voucher, we got tickets for another movie, and we didn’t have to wait in line AT ALL.

Later in the day, Vickie led us on a delightful tour of the area and all the TIFF venues where we would be spending so much of our lives for the next week. Unsurprisingly, Dan and I spent the final leg of the tour nearly keeling over from sleep deprivation, which is also why this entry is about to end so abruptly zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

My first TIFF starts tomorrow!

If you're nasty

2007-09-04T21:24:00.000-07:00

A few minutes ago, my phone rang with a private number calling. I'm always suspicious of private numbers, because it makes me think the caller has something to hide. Who knows what that would be, since I don't live in a detective story where strangers call and leave cryptic information and hang up, and then I find them dead in alley because they knew too much. And I'm like, "If you knew so damn much, why didn't you share more of it while we were on the phone? And I can't call you back because you have a private number? Whatever."

Anyway, that's how I feel about private numbers. So this time I decided to answer it because it could have been my parents from a work line. This is what happened instead:

"Hello?"
"CAN I SPEAK TO MISS JACKSON?"
"Excuse me?"
"IS MISS JACKSON THERE? IS THIS HER PHONE?"
"I think you have the wrong number."
"IS THIS [not my phone number]?"
"No, sorr--"
[click]

That was pretty weird on its own. However, as soon as he asked for Miss Jackson, I was like, Miss Jackson? Who is he talking ab-- OH MY GOD.

Because, if you've been reading Nun-Clown's MySpace blog, I recently referred to her as "Nun-Clown Jackson."

Did someone from the interwebs try to call Nun-Clown? Was this guy covering when he claimed he was trying to reach a different number? Can you really get my phone number by looking up "Nun-Clown Jackson" in the phone book? It's like the weirdest phone call I've ever gotten.

Full cycle

2007-09-04T17:32:00.000-07:00

Today is my last day on America's Next Top Model, Cycle 9. In case you're wondering, yes, I won. Spoiler!

I started this job around the same time of year I started Cycle 7, which was my first job ever if you don't count working at a movie theater for two months in high school. I remember my job interview for that one: an old man took me outside, lit up a cigarette, and asked me how often I touched myself and whether I thought about boys or girls. He also informed me that I was too fat for any of the uniforms they had, but I could still work there if I wanted. Looking back, I wonder if I was ever employed there at all.

I'm happy to say my interview at 10x10 went much smoother, although I can't say Tyra didn't seem interested in my sex life. After skipping Cycle 8 to work on Pussycat Dolls Present the Search for the ~~Longest Title Ever~~ Next Pussycat Doll, spending some time doing manly shows like Lobster Wars and Deadliest Catch, and quitting Hell's Kitchen after three days, I decided it was time to go back to my roots. All of which is to say, I needed a job and they offered me one.

I chose a night shift again, even though I remember it driving me crazy last year, because I tried the day shift and it drove me even crazier. I handled it much better this time, and found it awfully convenient in some ways, but I'm glad it's over.

I was trying to recall why I didn't write a single blog entry about getting this job and working on the show for the last three months, but now I'm a few paragraphs in and I remember that I can't actually tell you anything. But don't worry -- ANTM Cycle 9 premieres on the CW on September 19th. Just in case you thought America had run out of young girls with modeling potential... well, that still might be the case. OKAY THAT'S ALL I CAN SAY.

Alvin and Scatmunks

2007-08-21T21:19:00.000-07:00

As you may have heard, someone with a lot money thought it was a good idea to make a live-action film of Alvin and the Chipmunks, starring computer-generated Alvin and said Chipmunks. I personally feel like this money could have gone towards something better, like curing AIDS or feeding starving children or just sitting sensibly in a savings account somewhere. But someone was like, "Alvin and the Chipmunks... but only if we can get Jason Lee."

Sometimes, you go to the movies expecting pure, gruesome horror that turns your stomach. I bought a ticket for Saw III and almost threw up but at least I wasn't surprised. Last weekend I went to see The Simpsons Movie, not expecting to be confronted with the new trailer for Alvin and the Chipmunks.

I may have actually screamed when those CG creatures appeared onscreen. I am not interested in seeing chipmunks dressed as rappers singing "Funkytown." You know what? Lipps Inc. did a fine job. You're chipmunks, so try keeping your disgusting paws off the classics.

Okay, and are you expecting me to believe that in the real world, Alvin and the Gaymunks were able to achieve worldwide commercial success? Is there any public demand for singing chipmunks, especially if they don't write their own fucking songs? They're awfully lucky Jason Lee hasn't shoved them down the garbage disposal by now, which is what I would have done, but I guess that's why Jason Lee is a movie star and I'm writing this from prison.

BUT HERE IS THE WORST PART. If you watch this trailer, you'll see that Jason Lee asks Theodore if he took a shit on the couch. Alvin responds cheerfully that "it's just a raisin," and pops the brown nugget into his mouth. Jason Lee wanders away, convinced, at which point Alvin spits out the nugget and angrily exclaims to Theodore, "You owe me BIG TIME!"

You guys, do you understand what is happening here? Alvin eats poop in front of your children. No one made him eat poop, he just scarfed it down the second he had a halfway decent excuse. "Oh no, Jason Lee is coming! I'd better eat this turd so he thinks it's a raisin!" Theodore doesn't owe Alvin a damn thing -- no one asked him to cover for Theodore by eating poop. And certainly no one asked him to EAT POOP and then LICK HIS FINGERS with a look of ecstasy on his face, which is what he does.

And what is Theodore doing taking a fucking dump on the couch anyway? All three of them were just singing and dancing to "Funkytown." So either he unloaded beforehand and they all decided to perform in it instead of cleaning up, or he dropped a deuce immediately afterward, I don't know, out of exertion or something. Why doesn't Theodore get in shape, so he's not crapping himself uncontrollably every time they rehearse. No wonder they're not famous anymore.

I just think Theodore deserves to face the consequences of his actions. It's not like Jason Lee would have been that angry, since he's probably aware that hosting forest creatures in your house involves certain risks. If I was Theodore, I would also be offended at Alvin's presumption that I would ever dream of asking him the favor of gobbling my feces. I have to believe Theodore simply has more respect for his band leader than that. Or "had," because who could respect Alvin now that he's revealed himself as a shit-eater.