I'll have a butterscotch sundae I guess

I recently watched this again:

"You don't even know my middle name." "That's a trick question. You don't have a middle name." "It's Helen." "My mother's name was Helen." "I know."

"What should we do?" "Lie down for a minute?"

"Oh that...that's dog's blood."

"This is my sponsor, Runs With Two Horses. Winds blowin up a gale today!"

"I always wanted to be a Tenenbaum."

I've only seen it zillion times, but it never looses its charm. It's my favorite Christmas movie. Tasha gave it to me for our roommate secret Santa exchange three or four years ago, and it has been a staple must-see every December. Some people have trouble with it because the family is so dysfunctional, and because the pacing is slow. But it is really one of the sweetest stories (and I mean sweet like good and sincere).

Edited to add: If you feel like sharing, what is your favorite Christmas movie?

Irony

The problem with losing your glasses is that you don't realize you've lost them until you've taken your contacts out (at least for those of us contacts during the day/glasses at night wearers). And when that happens, because you are so blind, you end up having to crawl on the floor with your nose two inches from the ground, praying for some light reflection on the lenses to give them away. Hypothetically you could just put your contacts back in and begin to search, right?... But, you think, it shouldn't be that hard. The glasses were just there on your nightstand last night, right on top of your copy of "Eclipse" and next to your phone and three half-empty water bottles! They couldn't be anywhere but the night stand, or - at the very least anywhere on the floor within a three feet diameter of the nightstand. Glasses don't have legs. I'm pretty sure I don't have night terrors or sleep walking episodes that involve putting on glasses and then taking them off elsewhere (I have however slept walked in a London flat and scared my roommate half to death). Back to the army crawl on the ground - it would probably be smarter, healthier (ew, think of all the germs), and faster to just run and put your contacts back in, but there are other issues that get in the way. Issues of dignity for instance. As it happens, and I don't know why, somehow practically sniffing the floor with your eyes all squinted up involves more dignity than putting those two tiny silicon-whatever-contacts-are-made-of pieces in. So, you know where to find me three-four nights a week.

A story

The scene of a few nights ago: INT EVENING I walk into the kitchen for assistance in putting on a necklace, the assister, no doubt surprised by my use of jewelry, comments suspiciously: Assister: Where are you going? Me: Out. Assister: With who? Darnit, I think, she's going to make me say it. Me: With such and such person to such and such place The Assister beams. Assister: really? Me: yes. Said assiter is staring at me. No, not at me anymore, now she is staring at my attire. I tense, ready to spring. Me: What? Assister: Well, you aren't going to wear that? Me: Why not? I begin to hedge away slowly. Assister: Atleast, not that shirt. Do you have something less wrinkled? Me: I like this shirt With a start, I turn and sprint down the hallway, towards my bedroom. but she is quick. Her yelling comes from just behind me in the hall. Assister: It doesn't do anything for you! I silence her with a glance. Assister: Well atleast take your hair down. Assister is now sweeping through my closest, muttering "no" "maybe" "too old" as I grab my coat to go. Her voice carries after me as I leave the room. Assister: You'll need perfume! I pause in the kitchen to arrange my purse. I am already pulling my lip gloss out of my purse when she says, Assister: Do you have lipstick? I hold up the gloss to show her. Assister: I have lipstick with color in it... She trails off at my glare. I pause to apply the fruity concotion. When I look up I notice the Assiter is now observing my collar bones. I beeline it for the door. Assister: Honey I think we need to take you in...get those moles removed. Me: Bye Mom! I shut the door. Seconds later, the door opens after me. Mom: Bye honey, remember you have everything he wants!

A Lament

I'm tired of writing papers that I have to cite endlessly in a structured format. I miss film school and pulling papers out of my bum the night before they are due.

Baby its cold outside

So, I've decided to start blogging on my own -- outside of the family blog. There is something about the holiday season that makes me really love being a consumer. Or at least it makes me love holiday shopping commercials with bright colors and jazzy numbers and bundled up shoppers at the mall and presents with scrunchy wrapping paper. Of course when a crowd of people trample on somebody on their way to Walmart or whatever I get pissed and think old people things like "what is the world coming to." And yeah come two days after Christmas I would rather set fire to my nose hairs and gouge out my eyeballs then ever set foot in a store again. But, before all that happens I always rejoice in the Christmas-buying season. So what I'm trying to say is I love GAP commercials, and especially this new Christmas one: Who knew Selma Blair had such a sassy voice? And ok, so I had to share this one too: What's eating Gilbert Gap? And this is a 90s classic: And this is too adorable. Claire Danes where have you been? There's no way I was gonna include Sarah Jessica Parker's ad. Sorry, I don't care how much I hate to admit that I love that Lenny Kravitz song, she just irritates me too much. Finally, no gap ad post would be complete without the best gap ad they've ever done: