More Like My Tall Drink of Buzzkill

Last night I went to McFadden's for the premiere of the Cincinnati Ballet's new Webisode, which you can watch here or here if you prefer YouTube. The ballet has been doing these little videos to drive Web traffic and if you vote, you get a discount on your tickets. Pretty fun.

Anyway... I parked in the garage across the street from McFadden's because when it's 17 degrees out, I don't walk. Plus I had cash, so I figured it'd be easy in, easy out. Noooo problem.

Note to self: Whenever I think something will be noooo problem, rest assured, it will be a problem.

My Tall Drink of Water met me over there after work and we checked out the video, chatted with some people and then had dinner.

About 10 o' clock we headed out into the cold, climbed into my car and spiraled our way down the parking garage to the ticket taker.

Hmm... No ticket taker. Noooo problem. (Note to Self...)

So I slid my $20 bill into the automated teller to pay the $5 fee. It spit it back out.

I tried again. It spit it back out.

"It says it doesn't take twenties," TDW said.

"Uh oh. That's all I have. Do you have any cash," I asked him.

"All I have is a dollar."

"Damn. How are we going to get out? We're going to have to crash the gate." Perhaps I said this a little too excitedly.

TDW sat there for a few seconds and then said, "We can't crash the gate."

"Why not? It's not my fault they don't take twenties. Besides, I bet I could just lift that flimsy gate up and get us outta here."

"Well, for one, the security cameras will see you and come find you." (TDW, ever the voice of reason.)

"You think so? You think this garage has security cameras?" I looked around for signs of cameras.

"Yes, I'm sure," he insisted.

"Well what I am supposed to do? I have the money and they won't take it. It's 17 degrees outside and it's downtown and it's dark. To not crash the gate is to compromise my safety."

I grinned a devilish grin. I've always wanted to crash a gate and I could see the Blue Angel gleefully splintering the black and white arm.

"Or you could just go get change from McFaddon's," TDW said.

Interesting... Change, eh? Why didn't I think of that?

So I braved the cold again, ran across the street, got change and exited the parking garage legally and, sadly, without crashing through any gates.

When I got home I emptied out my pockets. Ooops. I called TDW.

"Guess what?"

"What," he asked.

"I had four dollars in my front pocket the whole time."

My Sweet, Sweet Baby

Last night I sat my dear little friend here down to enjoy a plate of pasta and True Life: I'm a Streetcar Racer. I had the food on my lap and the computer, lid open, on the coffee table.

About 10 minutes into watching some fine MTV programming, I saw billowing smoke.

"Is my computer on fire," I asked the Tall Drink of Water.

Short pause. More smoke. Then I cried, "My baby!"

I snatched my laptop from the candle's licking flame and caressed the hot monitor. I was horrified. And like anyone who's probably to blame for damaging one of their most prized posessions, I blamed someone else.

"Why the hell did you light that damn candle anyway," I snapped at him. "You never light candles!"

As I tried to scrape off the blackening and ran my fingers over the bubbling plastic, TDW said, "Oh, I'm sorry your computer got a little bit burned, but it wasn't my fault. It still works. Look, it has character now."

Had I not been in shock I might have said, "It's an Apple, it already has character," as K-Hud said today when I was recounting this horrible, horrible tale. (I felt justified in my initial dramatic reaction when my coworkers exclaimed "Oooh!" "Oh nooooo!" and "Oh my god, this is absolutely the worst thing ever!" when I pulled it from my bag so they could see the damage.)

As he tried to console me and clean off the burn marks, I scowled at him and told him I didn't want it to have "character."

"It was perfect. Now it's blistered and scarred," I hissed.

Then I felt bad for being so mean.

"Awww... I'm sorry," I said. "You're the most gorgeous iBook in the world, no matter what."

Second Is The First Loser

Unless you're Shaun White, then silver really brings out the highlights in your mop of dark red hair.

Impossible question from the 2007 Winter X Games: Which do you love more, Shaun's awesome locks or his mad half-pipe skills?

Told ya, impossible.

An Ass To Grind With Buzzfeed

My blog traffic has blown up since I wrote about Dancelife on MTV last week.

This is largely because some Web site called Buzzfeed has a link to the post. My blog is totally flattered.

The first headline they wrote directing people here was, "Dancelife Could Enduce Dance Envy," which was a better headline than the one I wrote.

But today I noticed I got another 10 hits from Buzzfeed. And when I went to the link I saw this new (and improved?) headline, "Aspiring Dancers Will Ass-Grind Their Couch While Watching."

Whaaaat? Did I say that? I double checked just to make sure and nope, no where in my post do I use the words "ass" "grind" or "couch."

Then again, I should have, because it's getting me mad blog traffic.

Just thought I'd share how my blog is being used to shill Dancelife for people Googling the most scripted MTV show since Leguna Beach.

I ain't hatin', just sayin.' I mean, I happen to love the cheesy, emotional dance solos. Take Blake's from Monday's episode. He releases his DVD, dances with his crew and then he and the wings tattooed on his back proceed to get funky on the hardwood.

He can fly, yo!

Me-WOW!

Absolutely no legs!

I laughed so hard I cried - and even hyperventilated a little bit - when I saw this commercial yesterday.

Lots of comedy shorts on SuperDeluxe.com, where I found this disturbing yet hilarious commercial.

There's also a great Bob Dylan parody called Bob Dylan: No Direction, Period. In it, he's credited with writing every popular song since the 1960s, including Nookie, Gold Digger and Toxic. It's pretty brilliant.

The Last Word? Hardly.

So, the slippers don't actually look anything like this, as you can see on Jen's blog where the picture actually exists. But this is how I envisioned them when I first read Jen's lede, so it's how I told Rob he should draw them.

Jen's Last Word ran last week and it's gotten great feedback on CiNWeekly.com, which is very cool.

You can read the original version here. I had to edit it down for space so the lede is a little bit different, but the slippers are intact. The original is longer and better, but the print version comes with the very cute slippers drawing and a picture Jen took of herself in my apartment before they left.

In other news from Detroit, Jen had her first A1 story today and will have another one tomorrow. What's better is that the Detroit News totally schooled the Free Press on the story, which didn't have it in today's paper at all.

You're going to have to wake up pretty early in the morning, Free Press, to pull one over on the Detroit Dynamo.

Laurel Canyon Review

Since The Tall Drink of Water subscribed to Netflix, we've been on a movie-by-mail binge. And it's fun - when I pick the movies.

He would argue otherwise (but then again, who wouldn't), but I pick better movies.

Because I don't particularly like the act of watching movies - that is, deciding which one to watch, deciding on a time because you have to factor in when you're going to eat, how long the movie is, what else you could be doing with those 2 hours of your life, etc. - I don't go in to watching a movie lightly, at home or at the theater.

I've been burned too many times by boring and mediocre movies. And unlike me, most people (The Tall Drink of Water, for example) are unwilling to walk out of movies or stop watching them if they're dull. Not me. I relish the walk-out. Getting to eat an hour before you thought you'd be able to makes the food sweeter, and I've never regretted not seeing the end of a movie I walked out on.

So I do my best to only watch movies I think I'll like. I'm well researched before I take that two-hour dive because I know it's very likely I'll have to stick it out because someone else wants to.

So last night after the first 40 minutes or so of Laurel Canyon, with Frances McDormand, Christian Bale and Kate Beckinsale, I was all for turning it off and watching TV instead. But TDW, ever the optimist, wanted to keep watching to see if it got better.

Our compromise was to watch it on fast forward and then watch only the scenes we thought would be important. (For me that was only the last one.)

Laurel Canyon is I guess about a son's wish for a decent mom. Bale plays the son, McDormand plays the mom. Good ol' mom, a rock producer, nearly lets her worthless boyfriend (and herself) seduce Bale's fiance, Beckinsale, before realizing she needs to stop with her bad parenting ways.

It was all too far-fetched for me. For example: You're a girl dating a guy. Now, imagine yourself making-out with your boyfriend's mom.

Go ahead, I'll wait.

Yeah. That was my reaction when McDormant and Beckinsale started kissing. First I was, "Ick.' Then I was, "Riiight." That on top of the fact it was slow-moving, too long and underdeveloped in its attempts at deep and meaningful. Relationships, blah blah.

Of course TDW picked out this movie. Though in his defense, he knows I'll watch Frances McDormand in anything. (Frances McDormand's living room Web cam? Hells yes I wanna see it!)

And, this goes without saying, but she was awesome in it, even if the movie was thin everywhere else.

Of course, my opinion on movies often differs from the reliable crowd. Best Picture Oscar winner Crash? After a good start I walked out thinking it was sophomoric and preachy. I thought the "coincidences" were so horribly manufactured that I laughed out loud, but the whole time I felt bad because I was thinking, "Aren't I supposed to love this movie? Isn't this supposed to say something about our everyday, American-way?"

The only thing Crash said to me was, "If you walk out now you can be done eating before it gets crowded."

Ditto for this last year's Big Brave Indie Movie Everyone Loves, Little Miss Sunshine. I loved the characters. They were funny and colorful and wildly entertaining, but the movie as a whole was a big bore for me. Only the last 45 minutes were any good. The rest of the movie, minus a few sweet moments here and there, was slight at best.

So, I've shown my cards. This should help you decide if you can ever trust any of my reviews.

Put 'Em On Notice!

I didn't have room, but I'd also like to put Hot Pockets on notice. Get your own On Notice board here.

Lessons Learned - Dancelife Preview

The preview of the premiere of J. Lo's Dancelife (I know, whatever MTV) was this afternoon at 1 p.m., and since I'd vowed to go to the gym for the first time in over a month, I decided to watch it while on the treadmill.

Huzzah!

It was genius, because not only did I go farther than I would have had it not been on, but I was so into it that I ran during the commercials because of all the sculpted abs on there. ("Gotta get in shape, Gotta audition for Dancelife!")

A few of the lessons learned from 1 to 1:30 p.m. this afternoon during Dancelife.

1. Giant hoop earrings are a must-have for any burgeoning hip-hop dancer; ditto for baggy capri pants, preferably in camouflage.

2. Long hair is another must. Fake hair? Go on, girl. Tearing off your weave in the middle of your audition and throwing it onto the floor is certain to get you a call-back.

3. It's cool to say "the business" - a lot - when referring to life as a dancer.

4. I agree with Nolan that Blake is a diva beeyotch.

5. Gymnastics and tumbling is a good subsitute when you a.) can't think of any dance moves or b.) don't have any actual dance skill or c.) both

6. Marc Antony, in his little blue skull cap looks tiny and roachlike, but seems good-natured and likeable.

7. J. Lo is completely likeable. (Full disclosure: While it's uncool to admit this, I am in love with J. Lo and Dancelife and am forcing - against his better judgement - the Tall Drink of Water to DVR it.)

And though I didn't learn this on the treadmill, it's still important to note: My body fat is .3 percent lower than The Tall Drink of Water's body fat. Which means he is made up almost entirely of pudding, while I am awesome and svelte.

Rainbows, Puppies, Kittens and Popsicles

Conversation highlight from the Adidas outlet store:

Me (Holding women's t-shirt in pink with rainbow colored sparkles popping out of the word "Adidas): "Everything for women is pink with rainbows and glitter and crap. The men's stuff is better."

The Tall Drink of Water: "It's all rainbows and puppies and kittens."

Me: "Yeah, unicorns and popsicles."

TDW: "Mmm. Popsicles."

Yes Please!

Finally, the fabulous David Beckham will grace the US with his stellar good looks and mad soccer skillz. He's signed a five-year deal with the Los Angeles Galaxy. More here.

I predict Posh wowing the tabloids with fantastic style choices and kids across America sporting Becks' latest haircut.

Gooo Galaxy!

Sad Blog

It's very sad at this blog.

Most distressing, Jen and Pat have moved to Detroit. In addition to that horrible news, my iMovies have sucked every last bit of my hard-drive space, so I can't make any movies until I get an external hard-drive.

The latter is sad because I have lots of footage from Jen and Pat's going away party - including a reenactment of a Detroit street fight/shooting - that I can't turn into a movie.

So here are some photos until the LaCie fairy comes with some external storage.


Sheet cake for everyone in the newsroom.



Is that...? Noo, it can't be. OMG, it is!



Everyone has The Club in Detroit.



And yet another niche publication that will save the company. Or Jen and Pat's going away page.



Oh look, a book about Michigan. How convenient.



Senseo single-cup cup of coffee? Why, yes, thank you.



Jen made me a Best Friends book. And then I cried.



We're not posing. We're just really excited to stand so close together.



Grrr.



Last photo until March.

Buh-lieve It!

More shocked, I could not be.

But low-and-behold, my sister and 17-year-old neice came to visit. And it was so fun!

We did lots of shopping, tried on tons of clothes, gossiped, giggled, stayed up late, slept in and got Leah's cartilage pierced, which she said hurt way more than her belly button piercing. (Yes, my junior in high school niece has her belly button pierced.)

You'll undoubtedly notice in the video that I call my sister Sissy. Always have. I'll be 50 and still calling my 62-year-old sister, Sissy. I didn't know her real name until I was about 7.

I'm also happy (yet sad) to report that my iPod Mini, the pink, 6-gig, little pretty with an insatiable appetite for 80s R&B (it really loved New Edition) now belongs to Leah.

It was tough giving Mini up, but Leah has long wanted an iPod, and since I want to get a Nano, my sister bullied me into selling Mini to her. And by bullied I mean she slapped down some crisp bills and said, 'Leah, let's look at your new iPod. Here, Gina, you can put this toward that other one you want.'

So... Leah's ecstatic. And I'm getting a Nano!

I'll Believe It When I See Her

My sister randomly called me up today. (Jen always says, "It's so weird you have a sister. I always forget." I reply, "Me too.")

It's about the fourth time we've talked in five years. I think I've seen her about three times in those five years. We get along great - she's quirky and funny and says outrageous things, which I admire. (And she says them with a severe, southern accent.)

But she's also 13 years my senior, has lived in Lexington almost her entire life (whereas I've never lived in Lexington), has been married for nearly 20 years and has two grown children. So our lives are very different.

She's also completely unreliable, given to great whims and it's become her trademark to disappoint.

She's been promising my dad a visit on Thanksgiving/Christmas/Insert-Any-Holiday-Here for the last 10 years. She's never made good on any of them, though she promises every time.

So when she announced on my voice mail, "We're coming up on Friday. Hope you're home!" I was more than a little suspicious.

But I called her back, promised I'd send her directions, she swore she was coming, etc., etc.

I realized that if she does come, it will be the only time my life when I'll have seen her away from my parents. Every time we've seen each other - in my whole life - it's because we're all together, usually because she is visiting my dad or I am visiting her with our dad.

She says she and my 17-year-old niece, Leah (who makes the boys swoon), are just coming for the night to "have fun and hang out!"

I sincerely doubt this, but she has a way of being very convincing. I've already started to think of things we can do together... Even though I know she's completely unreliable.

Dancelife Dilemma

First I wasn't. Then I definitely wasn't. Last week I thought I might. Now I think I definitely will.

Maybe.

I stopped taking dance class in the fall and was absolutely liberated that my Wednesday nights were free again. The winter session starts January 15, and I wasn't going to sign up. But then I saw a preview for J.Lo's Dancelife on MTV, her reality show that follows would-be professional dancers.

I know it's crazy, but I can totally see myself getting addicted to that show and then wishing I had a dance class to go to.

So I thought I better sign up so I don't get dance-envy. But what if J. Lo's show sucks? Then I've signed up for dance again, my Wednesday nights are spoken for and what I really want to do to is go home and watch TV. (But not watch Dancelife, because in this scenario, Dancelife sucks.)

But it could be completely addicting and dance-inspiring... And I'll be the big slug on the couch not dancing. Or I'll be the strange girl gettin' down in her living room.

The premier is January 15, the same day winter classes start. So I can't even watch the show first, then decide.

Damn you, Dancelife.