Aug
22
August 22, 2006
For those of you who may be waiting on tenterhooks for my impression of Snakes on a Plane (IE, none of you), I enjoyed the hell out of it. It met my expectations in every way: there were snakes, a shitload of them, and they were extremely bitey. There was a plane, careening around in a dangerous manner. And of course, there was Samuel L. Jackson, beetling his brows and tossing out choice one-liners.
I went to see it with a bunch of my coworkers, because my boss actually bought tickets for everyone as a morale event type thing. Workplace has done this before with movies like Star Wars Episode Whatever, because of the mass nerd appeal, but I was very surprised to see him pony up for SoaP. Especially since my boss is…let me see, how to describe…he doesn’t drink caffeine, watch TV, or curse; he drives a hybrid and he donates blood on a regular basis. A movie full of violence, profanity, and scenes that involved snakes biting 1) a woman’s nipple and 2) a penis just aren’t his thing, you know?
I think he just selflessly enjoyed the fact that his employees were excited about it, though, which was rather sweet. I asked him afterwards what he thought of the movie, and he was hilariously diplomatic. “That film had absolutely no false advertising,” he said. “I think the people that didn’t want to go (for about half the company had no desire to attend the showing, which I decided was the Workplace Litmus Test for me; if my office ever goes up in flames and I’m in a position to save people I am absolutely starting with the SoaP fans) knew exactly what they were missing, and the people who went knew exactly what they were getting into.”
So in conclusion: snakes good. Two poison-filled thumbs up.
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Have you seen this video? For some reason I actually like Britney a little more having watched it. Maybe it’s because she seems too dumb to have a mean bone in her body. She’s like a big retarded golden retriever, panting and blinking and saying “HUH?”
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Speaking of videos! I fooled around in iMovie for the first time last night and managed to make this little movie featuring, surprise, Riley. I apologize for the audio that includes me yelling “RAWWR” over and over and OVER (man, why am I such a dork when the camera is running?) (because otherwise I am never dorky ever, am in fact a pillar of grace and poise much like Audrey Hepburn), you might want to turn the sound down.
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Since today’s entry seems to be of the random variety, my most recent news is we got a new dining room set this morning (the oak/granite combo I mentioned earlier). The old table we had was once my grandparents’, throughout various moves across the years it’s gotten pretty banged up. The chairs all needed reupholstering, too. Most annoyingly, the finish on the table’s surface was extraordinarily delicate – any heat or moisture left a permanent stain in seconds. I wanted something prettier, since the table is one of the first things you see when you walk in the door, and less prone to being ruined by a water glass. Here it is:
I like it, but wow, it’s big. Really big. Our previous table was oblong, and the square size definitely takes up more room.
Also, I don’t know why I post pictures of my furniture online like this shit is interesting. God. I’m sorry, I won’t do that again.
Except for this:
Which I show only to illustrate the long, uphill battle I have in babyproofing the house. The boy has 3845789695 safety-tested toys, including this one:
(My family gave this exceedingly noisy toy to Riley as an early birthday present, after which they immediately escaped on a month-long cruise. People who give loud electronic toys as presents should be forced to hang around and babysit instead of being allowed to go on month-long cruises, is all I’m saying.)
And yet the things he most enjoys playing with are inevitably fraught with danger. If there’s a heavy plant to be pulled onto his head, a ballpoint pen to thrust into his eyesocket, or a Mystery Item to place in his mouth, he’s all over it, and woe unto the person who tries to take it away. He will go all snakes-on-a-plane on your ass.
Aug
21
August 21, 2006
When I wrote about the powdery mineral miracle makeup, I received an email that asked if I would consider posting before and after photos of myself. Ha ha HAAAA, I thought. Yeah, right.
Then I changed my mind, because what the hell. It’s not like you haven’t seen my naked belly (Built by Mint Milanos®), and that’s a scarier sight than my unmade face.
OR IS IT?
Okay, we’ve got eye circles, blotchy redness, and a retarded expression. Let’s see what the makeup can do.
Well! I still look like a dork (I am not lying when I tell you I took 482506 photos and those two are the “best” of the bunch), and my hair is painfully in need of highlighting and, my god, maybe a hot oil treatment or ten? – but the overall face-tone has improved, has it not? I tried to get two photos that used the same angle and lighting, although the “before” shot was taken early this morning and the “after” was taken yesterday evening, so there are some differences. The only things I changed digitally were to crop the images and sharpen a bit.
So there you go, a real-life comparison of the makeup (which I swear I am not being paid to shill). Obviously I am not magically transformed into a dewy-skinned Natalie Portman by wearing it, but it does a nice job of providing even coverage while feeling practically invisible. I don’t care if this crap does have an infomercial, I still love it.
P.S. As you can see, I’m a chronic eyebrow-over-plucker. How does one break this habit? I’d love to be one of those people with perfectly groomed, waxed eyebrows, but doesn’t that require you to let them grow out for like, weeks on end? I honestly don’t think I could do it. Just the thought makes me grab for the Tweezerman.
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