"I'm A Pretty, Pretty Princess. It's a Full-Time Gig."

Okay, so I haven't seen this cartoon, The Mighty B. (I don't have cable, okay? That means no Battlestar Galactica, no MXC, no Top Chef, no Burn Notice. I know, I know. Feel sorry for me.) But I found this clip on Bucktooth Mama's blog and I loved it. First of all, it's Amy Poehler as the voice of the little girl and I loves me some Amy Poehler. Second of all, there's something about the combination of hyper-girly silliness and weird, confident anti-sociality that reminds me of two blond, pretty, pretty princesses that live in my house. The song itself is a total earworm and I (and you) will now spend the next several hours humming the tune.



Now this little gem is another unknown quantity. Apparently, there was an Internet feature film called Star Wreck that has the dubious distinction of being "the most popular Internet feature film of all time." (To me, that sounds like being the most famous Mormon calligrapher in the world or the best underwater sweater knitter or something.) Anyway, the bunch that made Star Wreck is now in the process of making another film, this one called Iron Sky. The website propaganda reads,

"Towards the end of World War II the staff of SS officer Hans Kammler made a significant breakthrough in anti-gravity.
From a secret base built in the Antarctic, the first Nazi spaceships were launched in late ‘45 to found the military base Schwarze Sonne (Black Sun) on the dark side of the Moon. This base was to build a powerful invasion fleet and return to take over the Earth once the time was right.
Now it’s 2018, the Nazi invasion is on its way and the world is goose-stepping towards its doom."

According to what I've read, it's supposed to be a comedy. If that's how it turns out, then great. But as it is, the trailer makes it look like the Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow that should have been. It's a cheesy, pulpy premise - "In 1945 the Nazis went to the Moon. In 2018, they are coming back." and I absolutely love it. The resolution of the Youtube trailer isn't as good as it is on the official website but it will do for now. Nerds of the world, unite!

Miscellany

Man, it feels like it's been forever since I posted last. (It hasn't. I posted those recipes an hour ago.) Work has been insane because we have doubled the number of students in the building while simultaneously losing one of our teachers. (Indira is jumping ship. I wish her the best and also burn with jealousy.) The usual difficulties of orienting new students are heightened because there are so stinkin' many people in the building. It's been chaos.

There's also been the matter of my back. For over a week, I was a bent-over, wheezing, delicate old man. But apparently, the trick is to walk around the Toledo Zoo for a couple of hours on a gorgeous Saturday afternoon. Once I did that, I felt as right as rain. Now I can stand up, get out of the car, and even go to the bathroom without crying out in pain. Yay for me and mi spina.

Something occurred to me the other day when I was talking to Maryn and Avery's principal: I don't like dealing with people who are paid to smile. Politicians, salesmen, PR people, grade school principals - you get the idea. It's their job to seem happy, upbeat, and positive. While there's nothing wrong with feeling/being that way, I have a natural distrust of people who have to do it. What if they don't feel that way at all? What if they're lying? What if they're just telling me what I want to hear in order to get me off their back or to buy something from them or to get me to vote for them? I just don't like it.

Anyway, on a happier/sadder note, tomorrow is the Lost season finale. We get to see how the Oceanic 6 finally ended up getting off the island and, presumeably, why nobody else did. (Ben and Locke move the island?) This is happy news because I'm all pumped to see what weird, islandy goodness the writers have cooked up for this two hour Lost-fest. It's sad because then the show will be in reruns until some stupidly distant time like December of 2011 or something like that. Seriously. Long summer breaks are lame when it comes to my favorite tv shows. On the bright side, Suzanne and I will be using all that extra time to catch up and review. I never saw any of season one and so I'm making up for lost (heh) time by renting the DVDs and watching episodes 2 and 3 at a time. With no commercial interruptions, they last just over 45 minutes and it's real easy to watch an episode or two once the girls have gone to bed. I still have all of seasons 2 and 3 before being entirely up to date. I won't be completely without my Lost fix for a while.

On a more literary note, I came across a copy of Chaim Potok's Zebra and Other Stories at the Salvation Army the other day. I had no idea he'd written stories for young adults but I picked it up and started reading the title story while Suzanne rifled through endless racks of junk looking for diamonds in the rough. I was totally sucked in and I'm so happy to have found another wonderful book by Potok. It shows me that the Asher Lev books weren't a fluke and that I should probably read The Chosen as well. (And anything else Potok has written. I just really like his style, his characters, his stories, etc.)

I'm also working on Jeffrey Eugenides' The Virgin Suicides and thinking about getting back to Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell. Of course, by the time I get really ramped up and back into the pleasure-reading mode, it will be time to pick up school books again and prep for my QE over the summer. Ah well. I'll enjoy it while I can.

"Wow. It's Like There's A Party In My Mouth and Everyone Is Invited."

Parmesan Crusted Tilapia

INGREDIENTS
1/2 cup Parmesan cheese
1/4 cup butter, softened
3 tablespoons mayonnaise
2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
1/4 teaspoon dried basil
1/4 teaspoon ground black pepper
1/8 teaspoon onion powder
1/8 teaspoon celery salt (didn’t have any and it was okay)
2 pounds tilapia fillets

DIRECTIONS
Preheat your oven's broiler. Grease a broiling pan or line pan with aluminum foil.
In a small bowl, mix together the Parmesan cheese, butter, mayonnaise and lemon juice. Season with dried basil, pepper, onion powder and celery salt. Mix well and set aside.
Arrange fillets in a single layer on the prepared pan. Broil a few inches from the heat for 2 to 3 minutes. Flip the fillets over and broil for a couple more minutes. Remove the fillets from the oven and cover them with the Parmesan cheese mixture on the top side. Broil for 2 more minutes or until the topping is browned and fish flakes easily with a fork. Be careful not to over cook the fish.


The Greatest Chocolate Chip Cookies Known To Man (Formerly known as Grandma's Chocolate Chip Cookies.)

3/4 cup margarine
3/4 cup shortening
3/4 cup granulated sugar
1 1/2 cup packed brown sugar
3 eggs
2 tsp.vanilla
1 tsp. salt
1 tsp. baking soda
1 box (3.4 oz.) instant vanilla pudding (this is the magic ingredient)
4 cups sifted flour
3 cups chocolate chips

Cream together margarine, shortening, and sugars. Add eggs and vanilla. Beat well. Combine salt, soda, pudding mix, and flour. Add to the creamed mixture. Fold in chocolate chips. Bake 8-12 minutes at 350 degrees until lightly browned. Eat three at a time when no one is looking, stuff yourself silly, get sugar headache.

Fill In The Blank

1. I can never have too many . . .
Notebooks. Big ones, small ones, lined paper, blank paper, fancy twenty dollar ones from Barnes and Noble, cheap 1.39 ones from CVS. You can never have too many, especially with a 7 year old daughter who is always stealing them to draw in.

2. I'm terrified when . . .
I feel large bugs crawling on me or when I see any sort of snake. A snake writhing toward me will pretty much turn me into a blob of pants-wetting goo.



3. I can't get enough of . . .
Wheat Thins. Seriously, I could eat a whole box by myself in one sitting. Easily. Same with ice cream. A carton of Moose Tracks is not safe in my home.



4. I have always wanted . . .
To live in a two-story house and have my bedroom on the second floor. As a kid I always associated two-story houses with wealth. Nowadays I just want the nice light that comes in when you're up off the ground a little bit.

5. It bothers me when . . .
My students talk about hitting/choking their girlfriends/baby mamas. Can you blame me?

6. I dream about . . .
Getting in car wrecks. Seriously.



7. I would never . . .
Play hockey. I just wouldn't. I don't have good balance and I'm not interested in getting smashed or swiped at by some dude who has something to prove. No thanks.



8. I always . . .
Check the "Special Features" option of a DVD before watching the actual movie itself. I want to know if I have a gag reel to look forward to.

9. I will . . .
Be a gainfully employed PhD English professor before I'm 40. (Hopefully, well before I'm 40.)



10. I love . . .
Suzanne's new parmesan-crusted tilapia recipe. It was like there was a party in my mouth and everyone was invited.

The Yam Triumphant

Who knew it? Who called it?

Probably everybody, I guess. But who knew it and called it and is six one with blonde hair and has a name that rhymes with Bark Down? Who blogged about it here?

Me.

That's right.

Me.

P.S. About halfway through the show, I stopped referring to Kristy Yamaguchi as K-Gooch and instead started calling her "The Yam" which is actually infinitely funnier to me.

Ahhh, mi spina!

The title is another gem from Captain Admiral. It, of course, means "Ahh, my spine!" in Spanish. It is used when one is old, creaky, out of shape, and your spine doesn't work correctly but instead makes you walk and move like a crippled old man. Needless to say, The Captain was using this phrase long before I was but age has a way of catching up to us all.

Last Saturday, I spent about an hour pulling weeds out of our yard. I could have easily spent four hours doing that because we don't have a lawn exactly - we have nicely cared for patches of grass between expanses of exotic, virulent, vaguely grass-like weeds. I'm not OCD about much but when there's a weed poking out of an otherwise nice patch of grass, I get a little fixated. It's hard to explain but I get a deep sense of satisfaction when I pull a dandelion out by hand and the roots come up with it. it's weird but I like it.

Anyway, after picking weeds, I mowed, and then realigned the bricks that line our front flower bed. I came in for lunch around noon and suddenly became aware of a tight burning sensation in my lower back. Somewhere between the weed pulling and the brick aligning, I'd done something bad to my back. Real bad.

I'm not a back-trouble kind of guy. I'm not a person who suffers constantly and has to treat his lumbar region like it's loaded with nitro glycerin and because of this lack of experience, I am being a complete and total baby about the whole thing. I'm handling my discomfort with a marked lack of grace or cool. All I want to do is lay on my couch at home and do absolutely nothing. Except for a brief stint of mocking me on Sunday (poking me, calling me "cripple" and "little old man," etc.), Suzanne has been a real champ about this and has pretty much allowed me to not do too much for the last two days.

My chair at my office (where I'm sitting right now) is nowhere near as forgiving. There isn't any way to get comfortable really and I can guaran-dang-tee you I'm not going to lay down on the floor here. I'm not a germophobe by any stretch but I'm also not flat out stupid. (Trust me.) The floor here in not what we experts like to refer to as "clean" or "sanitary." Therefore, my back will just have to suffer so my immune system won't have to.

Anyway, that's what's up in my world right now. Occasional, slight numbness in one leg or another, walking all crooked and messed-up, being an invalid, having Suzanne call me Gimpy Joe.

Just Because It's Awesome

A little old school Flash Gordon by Alex Raymond:



#1 - This panel has some interesting Lost connections.
#2 - It's hilarious that ol' Flash is wearing what appears to be a space-age tube top.

I'm a comics fan

I am. For reals. And I'm probably more nerdy and insistent about it than most guys my age would be. I mean, I bought an action figure just a couple of weeks ago. (Iron Man, natch.)

However, I will never do this:



I just won't.

P.S. (Or maybe I will.)

Yay for me

A couple of days ago I received notification that I've won one of Wayne State's Graduate Professional Scholarships for 2008-2009. This means that my tuition for the next two semesters is on the house. This is a good thing because, even though WSU can't seem afford custodial staff half the time, school there is ridiculously expensive. (I'm not sure where the money goes. Maybe the President has a gold-plated desk or something.) So anyway, yay. Free school and another notch to put on the ol' curriculum vitae.

Status Symbols

When I taught college, one of the larger assignments in English 102 was the ethnography, which was a study of a subculture. The students had to choose a discrete, identifiable group (skate park rats, Campus Christians, the Red Hat Society, Saturday morning hackey sack players, competitive kite flyers, whatever) and study their culture. What were their rituals, customs, modes of dress, slang, expectations, etc? What sorts of things do they find funny? What kinds of behaviors are considered admirable or uncool? Are there initiation rites one has to go through to belong to the group? Do they have a geographic territory? Are there leaders and followers? How can you tell?

The students had a couple of weeks to observe, take field notes, and then boil it all down to a 7-10 page paper. It was always one of my favorite assignments because even though I'd usually get a load of uninspired stuff, there would always be one or two really interesting papers each semester that would teach me something entirely new and I loved that.

Anyway, one of the questions students were to consider was "What are some of your group's status symbols?" The things we place value on reveal a lot about us, I think. I've always been a big believer in the idea that we make time for what's important, we find money for the things we really want, and "you will always gravitate toward that which you secretly most love."

So, as I was thinking about this on the drive to work the other morning, I tried to list some of the status symbols I remember being important at different times in my life:

When I was on my mission, it was all about the shiny shoes, the right tie, and starched shirts. If you served as an AP or if you baptized 5 or more people in a month, you got to pick a tie out of the President's personal collection. Missionaries would pull out their "Prez tie" to show off to others.



Where I work, it's all about cell phones - the newest, the thinnest, the loudest ring tone, the fanciest built-in camera, the best videos saved, etc.

In junior high, it was all about the T & C Surf Design t-shirts. They were something like 25 bucks a piece and this was in 1986. (That's a lot for a t-shirt, isn't it?) The rich kids who lived on the hill had them, not many other people did. They were right up there with Guess jeans and Benneton shirts and Swatch watches.



In my ward, it seems to be all about big ol' SUVs and big ol' houses - at least in the Canton part. One family in our ward actually has a library in their house complete with the rolling shelf ladder.



In high school, it was things like rodeo belt buckles, big Ford trucks, and ski trips.

In the comic book world (at least when I was involved in it), it was first edition first issues. I have the original Dark Knight four issue miniseries by Frank Miller but they're all second and third editions and, therefore, not worth as much monetarily or culturally.



In grad school, it was all about publication - especially in journals that people have actually heard of. When Maura Payne got a poem accepted to the Beloit Poetry Journal (which, believe it or not, is a journal people have heard of - poetry people anyway), the rest of us pretty much greened right up with envy.

Anyway, I think stuff like that is interesting. What about you, my loyal 5 readers? Any status symbols you can think of?

I'm A Sucker For Bee Elements in Design

Linda sent me a link to Laurie R. King's website. I've never read any of her work but she seems like a charming person based on her blog posts and I am also interested in Sherlock Holmes pastiche books so her Mary Russell books seem cool. (And they can't be worse than Caleb Carr's The Italian Secretary -- snoooooooze.) Anyway, as I was rummaging around on her website, I saw that Picador is releasing new editions of some her earlier books. The new versions look great - but then I saw two old versions of the same book and realized how Ms. King must be doing back flips over the recent redesign.

See the difference design (good and bad) makes:

The first version which LRK describes as "awful, just terrible, ugly and creepy and jumbled."



She asked for a redesign and got this which she found to be a great improvement.



But now, look at this. Even the "much improved" last version pales in comparison. This cover is laid out and colored so beautifully, I want to eat it with a spoon. Or buy the book. One of the two.

Dear Commercial Radio

Dear Commercial Radio,

We've been through a lot together, you and I. Remember when I was a boy in American Falls and you sang me to sleep with Dexie and the Midnight Runners, Soft Cell, and Blondie? Those were good times.

We've had our rough patches too, of course. You actually had the audacity to let Kurt Kruzer be on your airwaves at Z103 in Idaho Falls and then actually allow him to follow me halfway across the state to Twin Falls. The man's voice gave me hives. His awful, I'm-a-cool-dude delivery smacked of mullets and black leather jackets with zippers all over them.

I've put up with your affection for Matchbox 20 and Third Eye Blind. I deal with your love of morning DJs who laugh maniacally at things that aren't really funny at all. I'm even more or less okay with the fact that, at any given time, Elton John is playing on at least one station in this city.

I know you're probably bugged by the time I've been spending with my iPod lately. I know there are morning drives when you sit there, silent and unused while me and iPod rock out. You're jealous. I understand that. I hear you say, "But there are limitless possibilities with me! You never know what's coming next! That trampy iPod only has eleven hundred songs on it. That's finite, man. Finite!" But here's the deal -- those are eleven hundred songs that I like and that I've put on there myself. Plus, I don't have to listen to commercials or DJs I don't like or useless traffic reports. Do you see what I'm saying?

Actually, that's not the point. I didn't ask you here in order to talk about iPod (we're in love, okay? Deal with it.) This is my point: we've been together through good times and bad, good music and bad, but we've always been together. As such, I feel like I can be honest with you, like I can tell you how it is. So I'm just going to come out and say it:

Stop. Playing. Leona. Lewis. Please!



I know she looks and sounds like a cross between Mariah Carey and Beyonce and that such a combination makes any music marketing guy drool like hopped-up St. Bernard.

But enough. Seriously. I don't want to have to beg and I don't want to utterly sever our relationship but I will. I will embrace iPod so fully it will make your old-school head spin. No more "Bleeding Love." No more. Or else.

Sincerely,

Mark

An Open Letter to Laurel Gwen Sheffield Brown

Dear Mom,

There are certain things I could thank you for on this Mother's Day that are pretty generic and basic, things that would probably apply to almost anyone:

#1 - Without you, I would not be here. Thanks for getting me here.

#2 - Without you, Dad probably would have killed me as a teenager and young adult. Thanks for convincing him to spare me.

However, there are other, more specific things that I want to thank you for today.

#1 - When I was sick as a teenager and stayed home from school, sometimes you'd run to the store for groceries and, when you came back, you'd have bought me a couple of comic books from the revolving rack they used to keep near the checkout stand. That always made me feel like a million bucks because I knew you were thinking about me even when you were away and could have taken a break from worrying about your whiny teenage son. It told me that you loved me and wanted to do what you could to make me comfortable and happy.

#2 - When I was at Ricks and you were the secretary for the Theater and Dance Dept. on campus, we went to lunch together all the time. Frontier Pies, JB's, The Golden Dragon, sometimes Me and Stan's, etc. I loved going to lunch with you because it told me that we were friends as well as mother and son. I always liked sitting with you and talking about the crazies in the Theater Dept. and what was going on with people we knew. You always let me order dessert.

#3 - Everyone has moments in their life that they remember and treasure. Some are big like the birth of a child or graduation or something like that. Others are seemingly small and uneventful but still powerful, valuable, and lasting. The times you and I traveled to Springville to see the spring show at the art museum and to clean up Grandma, Grandpa, and David's grave sites are some of my favorite moments from my entire life. I think of them as something special and even sacred that you and I share.

#4 - I tried little league baseball and soccer, took piano and guitar lessons, karate, portrait painting, and theater. As I was trying to figure out what in the world I liked and was good at, you always supported and encouraged me. I never felt the "You're going to grow up and be a doctor" pressure that some people get from their parents. I remember asking you once if there was anything you wanted me to grow up to be and you said, "The only thing I want for you or Jason or your other brothers is for you to be happy and to live the Gospel," and you meant it. I'm confident that if I'd told you I wanted to be a scuba-diving wildlife photographer, you would have bought me flippers and photography lessons.

#5 - You really like being a member of the Church. You take satisfaction and joy in doing your calling and in serving other people. When life hands you hardship and difficulty (and it has, largely in the form of your sons), you rely on your faith in God and Christ and the Gospel and the organization of the church. I admire the example you set of actually being faithful -- believing and trusting and hoping even when, especially when belief and trust and hope are hard to come by.

#6 - One thing I've often heard you say is "Isn't your dad amazing?" You're always appreciative of his skills and abilities and always make an effort to be grateful for what he does. You see through his borderline anti-social tendencies, his occasional grouchiness, his perversely compulsive pawn shop/yard sale/salvage store habits and recognize the good, honest, hard-working, tenderhearted man he is.

#7 - One of the great blessings in my children's lives is that they know who you are. Even though we're two time zones apart, they regularly talk about "Grandma in Rigby" and talk about playing at your house, taking you to the DIA, about your dog "Buck the Doofus," about presents and cards they've received from you in the mail, about stories you've told them, about the time you turned up here in Michigan and surprised them. You are an active, important part of Maryn and Avery's lives and they love you.

#8 - You have tremendous tolerance for the obnoxiousness of your sons. The wuzza, the Munchkin Mandible, jokes about attending high school in the Cretaceous Period, jokes about not being tall enough to reach things on the counter, questions about whether or not the Sheffields actually descend from Oompa Loompas, extensive quotes from The Simpsons at the dinner table, etc. Despite all this, you kept us around even when Dad wanted to leave us on the Indian reservation.

#9 - I doubt this blog would even exist if not for you. (Some people may blame you, I guess.) Your belief in being a record keeper has, in its way, filtered down to me. You were the editor of the Sheffield family newsletter for all those years when it was typed on a manual typewriter (!) and everything was done through the mail. The family calendar on the wall was always overflowing with details about events that happened on certain days. Even now, both halves of our family are updated on a daily basis about who is having a birthday or an anniversary. Because of that influence, I have a shelf of almost forty filled journals and a year's worth of nearly-daily blog entries. You've raised your kids to be a record-keeping people.

#10 - I really like you as a person. You're fun to spend time with and interesting to talk to. I learn things when I talk to you and often have to reconsider my usually narrow, judgemental way of looking at the world after having a conversation with you. You're funny and fun. When all the brothers are together and the wives and the kids are there, it's a wonderful thing and it's a thing that you and Dad made together.

Thank you for being my mom. I appreciate you and love you and wouldn't trade you for all the Chocodiles in the Hostess factory. Happy Mother's Day, Mom.

Love,

Mark

Even Though Shalee Didn't Tag Me, I'm Doing This Anyway

1. What was I doing 10 years ago?
I was attending Idaho State University and was recently engaged to Suzanne. I drove a black Corsica with gold trim that I named Rico.

2. Five things on my to-do list:
- Get in touch with the grad director and confirm that I really, really am done with coursework despite what I was told earlier this week.
- Start assembling a QE reading and viewing list.
- Mow the lawn.
- Type up my assessment recommendations for my students.
- Get some freaking chocolate, man. I'm dying here!

3. What snacks do I enjoy?
Wheat Thins, homemade nachos, M & M's, chips and salsa, Oreos.

4. What would I do if I suddenly became a billionaire?
- Quit my job immediately.
- Have Suzanne quit her job immediately.
- Spend the summer traveling.
- Buy a few houses. (One in Idaho, one in Michigan, one in Utah, one in southern California.)
- Give 5 million dollars to my current place of employment and tell them they can have it on the condition that they hire an all new administrative staff. (Ha! I'm evil!)

5. 3 bad habits:
I bite my nails.
I swear sometimes.
I criticize my boss behind his back (and, worse yet, in front of his back.)

6. 3 places I have lived:
Hodge, Louisiana
Jackson Hole, Wyoming
Westland, Michigan

7. Jobs I've had:
Cleaning the parking lot First Security Bank for my dad.
Babysitting for the Hammond family in American Falls.
Data entry for Alliance Title and Escrow in Rexburg.
Burger King.

8. Five things people don't know about me:
I worked at Burger King.
I was the fastest checker at the Boise Winco grocery store during the summer of 2000.
My genealogy connects me to Abraham Lincoln and Daniel Webster.
My dream job as a child was to be an architect.
I once accidentally broke open a fellow cast member's eyebrow during rehearsals for a play I was in and he had to get ten stitches.

9. 5 people to tag:
Y'all know who you are. Get to work!

I Am Iron Mark

After several months of anticipation, I finally made it to Iron Man last night. Brother-in-law Ben and I snuck away for a 9:20 showing at the AMC 20 and, after a solid half hour of previews (which I love), I was treated to two hours of Robert Downey Jr. being clever and his metal suit being totally awesome. Yes, the 14 year old in me was alive and well last night as Tony Stark outraced fighter jets, pounded through stone walls, did away with evil terrorists, and fought a very bald and weirdly menacing Jeff Bridges.

I thought Dana Stevens' line from the Slate.com review was clever: "Iron Man's secret weapon dwells underneath the high-tech robot suit and the whiz-bang special effects: We can win the war on terror, the movie suggests, with the force of Robert Downey Jr.'s personality alone."

It was an origin story and those are notoriously short on action but the action we did get was first rate. The showdown with Jeff Bridges as the Iron Monger at the end was worth the price of admission. More than that though, the characters were charming and just human enough to invite personal investment from the audience. I enjoyed it a lot and its definitely got a place waiting on my shelf when its released on DVD. (It will fit nicely next to Hellboy, Superman, Batman Begins, Flash Gordon, and the rest.)


(Tony Stark suiting up in his first version of the armor. He uses it to escape from terrorists who are trying to force him to build a missile for them.)


(Fixing up the new suit. This scene was filmed in my garage next to the hovercraft and just left of the pneumatic harpoon gun.)



(With a nice coat of Turtle Wax.)



(Jeff Bridges/Obadiah Stane/The Iron Monger)



(A little Robert Downey Jr. cheesecake shot specifically for Shauna. The man is no Viggo Mortenson, apparently, but I guess he'll do in a pinch.)

Last Words

I love this little bit of info:

On this day in 1862, Henry David Thoreau died of tuberculosis. He was 44. His aunt asked him if he was at peace with God. Thoreau said, "I was not aware that we had quarreled." The last clear thing he said was, "Now comes good sailing," and then two words: "moose" and "Indian."



I want my last words to be something poetic and hopeful like "Now comes good sailing" but then my last two random words can be "cookies" and "Kirkegaard." ("Cookies" because I like them. "Kirkegaard" because it's a funny word.)

Oh, and this one's for my dad...

toothpastefordinner.com

Monday, Monday

Nothing much to say today. We had a busy but mostly fun weekend -- the U of M planetarium and Museum of Natural history, dinner out for Suzanne and I to the Bombay Grill, and lots of time with Suzanne's family. Ben and Erin blessed their little Braeden clone, Cole, on Sunday and then we had a fabulous brunch at their house. Homemade chocolate chip cookies on Sunday evening, a dissatisfying night of Brothers and Sisters and then off to bed.

Today, we are taking in a new group of students and I can already tell who the troublemakers are, which kids are too cool to listen or act like they're trying, and who probably won't make it. Some of these kids might as well be wearing signs over their heads that say, "Just trying to get my grandma off my back" and "Too scared to admit I can barely read."

Anyway, in the spirit of having finished my course work last week (with another straight "A" semester, I might add), I give you January 5, 2006 edition of Toothpaste for Dinner:


toothpastefordinner.com

Some Are Interesting, Some Are Not

Just as in life, in television some people are interesting and some are not. The last two weeks of Lost, for me, demonstrate this principle. I find Ben infinitely interesting. He's creepy and probably evil but I always want to know what's going to happen next with him. When he speaks, I listen carefully. I'm interested. Last week's episode that focused almost entirely on him was one of the best so far.


On the other hand, the whole Jack and Kate thing just isn't that compelling to me. Kate's nice to look at and Jack does the bug-eyed, "I'm going a little crazy" thing really well but the two of them together elicits from me a big ol' "Meh." I was actually disappointed last night when Juliet made it clear that she knows Jack is in love with Kate rather than her. Why was I disappointed? Because Juliet is interesting and she brought some cool complication to the brunette Barbie-fest that is Jack and Kate.

Other fave characters from Lost are Sayid, Charlie, Hurley, Desmond and Penelope, and most of the freighter folk.

Other TV show characters I really like are:

Brothers and Sisters: Sarah, Holly, Justin, and Rebecca. (And don't you think I'm not looking forward to the yelling and screaming soapiness that's to take place this Sunday night when Rebecca confronts Holly over lying about who her father really is.)

Dancing With The Stars: K-Gooch simply because of her sheer domination and Marisa Jaret Winkour simply because she is one of the loudest people I've ever seen on the earth ever. It's like watching Fizzgig from The Dark Crystal in a gown and cha-cha heels.



(You be the judge.)

October Road: Why, no one. No one at all.

Jailhouse Rock Meets Coming to America

Do we suppose that little, seventeen year old "Archie" Archuleta had any idea who or what his costumer was referencing with this last Tuesday's outfit?



Probably not. But I did.

It's strange because it was Neil Diamond night. If the person dressing Archie wanted to pay homage to the Neil, he should have spiffed him up in a really spangly shirt with shoulder pads.

Just kidding, Neil! Your wardrobe choices over the last couple of decades have been almost uniformly bad - but you know what? It doesn't matter in the slightest. You are and forever will be The Neil and you rock.

--

Want to learn a new word? Watch Brooke White's version of "I'm a Believer" and then look up the word "lugubrious." It's pronounced luh-GOO-bree-us.



She's gone. Castro should be next but it may be Syesha. It will be an all-David sing-off before long.

P.S. I was really disappointed nobody sang Neil Diamond's "Turn On Your Heart Light," the unofficial theme song to E.T.

P.P.S. As much as I love the Neil, that new song he sang could be marketed as an over-the-counter sleep aid.