Saturday, July 12
Friday, July 11
Thursday, July 10
Wednesday, July 9
Tuesday, July 8
Monday, July 7
A moving gift
No, no one has hit my wishlist recently. I have a gift for the art of moving, and today I am being called upon to help Leigh as she moves up and out. I hate to admit it, but I do enjoy helping my friends move -- there seems to be so much possibility in an empty apartment, an empty room. And this has nothing to do with the lamp I fell in love with yesterday at Pottery Barn.
posted @ 12:41 PM |
A danger to the suburbs
I hit the 'burbs like a bomb today. I snuck up north to see T3 (not really what I would call good), and then I hit the Mall, where I proceeded to buy five CDs, a pair of pants, a sweater, and some unmentionables. And I got everything on sale. There is nothing like the rush of buying exactly what you wanted to buy but for less than you intended to pay and with a minimum of hunting. It's such a good feeling -- almost as good as getting that voice mail when I got home, almost as good as it feels to listen to my new Coldplay while I write this, and almost as good as the anticipation of listening to the new Staind disc and finally owning Vs., Cure for Pain, and Exile in Guyville.
posted @ 8:11 PM |
The eternal dilemma
I will admit to reacting to the Harry Potter series much as A.S. Byatt has: as a literary snob, dismissing them as children's books with little true value. And, after having read the first four, I still agree with my first instincts. I read a great many things, however, that have little value other than the enjoyment they give me.
I seem perpetually stuck between my inherent snobbishness (the part of me that wants to sniff hideous things like, "Well, if you haven't read Don Quijote in the original Spanish...") and my truer self, which loves Stephen King and the occasional trashy romance and bad teen movies. What I want to say is that it all has value, but it is a relative value. I would take Byatt's Possession over Rowling's Potter any day and twice on Sunday. Possession stayed with me; it made me think; it made me want to be a good writer. Potter entertained me for a few hours and I then forgot about it. Really good children's books shouldn't be like that; they should be like The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe or A Wrinkle in Time or even Summer of My German Soldier. I read all of those books before I was 12, and I can remember them all more vividly than books I read a few months ago.
(Byatt's op-ed at the Times. Saw the links over at Bookslut.)
posted @ 12:35 AM |
Straight from the confines of my mind
I'm reading the new issue of TV Guide last night (yes, I read TV Guide. Shut it), and there is a feature on Without a Trace, a show which apparently features stories "ripped from the headlines."
When did that become a good thing? If I wanted to watch the f-ing news, I would. I was kind of hoping that an "original series" would actually feature something original. You know, as in fictional. As in, make it up your damn selves, you lazy hacks.
All these shows ripping things from the headlines just further blurs the distinction between what is real and what is reality TV.
posted @ 4:25 PM |
Divided loyalties
As you all know, the NY Liberty is my team of choice. In the Western Conference, I choose the Comets. However, there aren't enough games televised for me to be picky about what team I watch -- I watch whoever is on, and if neither of my favorite teams are playing, whatever random mood I'm in determines who I root for. Unless it's the Sparks. I hate the Sparks. Much as I hate UConn basketball, I hate the Sparks. Here's what kills me though -- I hate the Sparks more than I hate UConn, because I actually root for Sue Bird whenever Seattle plays L.A. (okay, that and Lauren Jackson has totally won me over to the dark side). So, in last night's match-up of the Mystics and Sparks, you know who I wanted to win. And, despite having the worst record in the league (2-14), Washington gave a L.A. a run for their money, falling 97-91. It was one of the highest scoring WNBA games I've ever seen, and all I could think was, Washington is good. Sure, Holdsclaw is the leader, but she got serious support from Coco Miller and Stacey Dales-Schuman (two players I've also never liked, but I have to respect after last night). That team has talent. They just have to figure out how to finish a game.
posted @ 9:40 AM |
Ode to Rt. 9 traffic
(dedicated to the guy in the green truck)
Bite me.
posted @ 8:12 AM |
Look away
There are certain things in life you just shouldn't watch. Anything starring Pamela Anderson, blood being drawn, and your car's sunroof being jammed back into place by a "mechanic." Look, if I had known you were just going to pound on it until it went back into place, I could have done that myself.
posted @ 11:24 AM |
Free associating
I'm being tortured. I don't know by whom or why, but it's true. Every time I see a Blogathon mention on a site, I get "Crocodile Rock" stuck in my head. The la-la-la part is driving me completely insane. I can't be held responsible for my actions.
posted @ 9:48 AM |
Discontinued
They don't make my car anymore. They make something called an "Ion Quad Coupe." It's kind of like a four-door coupe, but not really.
I feel very disconcerted by this. I'm on my second Saturn SC2, and I had a vague suspicion that I would have a third one before I was able to finally afford the Maserati. I don't like the new coupe. It looks like ... a sedan. I hate sedans. I'm 27! I don't drive an f-ing sedan! It's okay. Just because I have a broken sunroof doesn't mean I need a new car. Even if I want one.
posted @ 2:53 PM |
Bad karma
I have bad car karma. I get it from my mother. What she did in another life to piss off the automotive gods, I don't know but she has always had wretched luck with vehicles. I've fared slightly better, but this morning as I went to open my sunroof to relieve the already oppressive heat, my car karma came back to bite me in the ass. There was a strange noise and my sunroof was stuck half-open. This wouldn't make me too upset if it weren't for two things: 1. I just replaced my sunroof motor in the fall. 2. It's summer and my sunroof is as air-conditioned as my car gets. I managed bravely not to cry or bang my head on the steering wheel. The lovely people at my car dealership have agreed to shut the stupid thing before it starts to rain, and I have an appointment for repair next week -- when you'll get the "I'm so broke and I hate cars" blog. Always something to look forward to here at being jennifer garrett.
posted @ 9:30 AM |
A whole new me
To follow this morning's enormously long post (that's what I get for skipping a day on the blog), I give you: a new "about me" page. I'm still me, the page is just different. Or I'm different and the page is the same? Whichever.
posted @ 3:04 PM |
A legendary gaming experience
Yesterday, I made the pilgrimage to Mohegan Sun to see the WNBA up close and personal. It was my first live game of the season and my first trip to a casino -- ever. I was a little unsure of how the place would hit me, but I have an odd fondness for the seedy side of life, so I was excited for both the casino and the game. When my two-hour drive was over and I pulled into the Indian Summer Garage, I was a little taken aback. First, it didn't seem seedy at all. Where were the men with greasy hair and desperate women with dark roots? There were families and old ladies wearing socks with their sandals, and there was a lot of ... faux wood. It was huge: It wasn't a casino, it was a compound. There were, in fact, two casinos (Casino of the Sky and Casino of the Earth) with the arena in between. There were shops and restaurants and a hotel and an extensive water feature which went "underground" and ended in a dramatic waterfall. You could easily live there and never have to see the outside world again. There was a constant high-pitched hum that drove my friend crazy and just had me perplexed. I thought it was supposed to be mystical and somehow calming -- you know, as opposed to the soothing sounds of slot machines. My friend thought the best feature was the ability to walk around the entire compound drinking and smoking freely. You could get a beer at the food court (excuse me, that would be the Rising Moon Gallery of Eateries), and my friend did. We checked out the tables, but it seemed to me that you gave them money, they gave you cards, and then they kept your money and you had to return the cards. We lost a quarter at the slot machines and that was enough of that. Game time.
When we picked up our tickets at the box office, I turned around, and there she was. "Ohmygod, that's Crystal Robinson." My friend replied, "Who?" I had a lot to teach her about the Liberty. We went inside, got a nifty free Connecticut Sun sand pail and shovel, and took our seats (the arena isn't that big, so we were pretty close to the action). I made with a lot of pointing at the players, that's T'Spoon, that's Robinson, the girl all in white is Becky Hammon, etc. She decided she was going to root for the home team since I was clearly not a supporter. And not that I blame her entirely, but the Liberty lost, despite being in the lead for most of the game. NY's Tari Phillips had an amazing game with 18 points and 10 rebounds, and the Sun's Taj McWilliams-Franklin was matching her almost point for point. NY's Elena Baranova earned my friend's attention, so I don't consider the game a complete loss. Somehow, my friend talked me into hanging around after the match to try to see the players as they left (okay, so she didn't have to try too hard). Our first foray into stalking was a success, as we got to see Baranova as she left. 6'5 isn't as towering as I thought it would be, but, man, her legs went on forever. She and the other players were fabulous, signing shirts and posing for pictures with the fans. We didn't ask for autographs or pictures. I think we just wanted to see them up close and remind ourselves that they were just real people who happen to play amazing basketball.
posted @ 9:49 AM |
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