Everybody Loves Saturday Night

movie: iron man

OK, seriously? There's no need for a multi-paragraph review for this one. This movie is AWESOME. One of the best comic book movies made so far, and good thing too. It's about time this movie came along, because the genre had been getting stale, movies made just to fuel a franchise.

Honestly, I went in expecting to like Iron Man, primarily because I thought casting Robert Downey, Jr. as Tony Stark was brilliant. And he is brilliant. And you can definitely tell that the movie is directed by a non-Michael Bay type, which hello, major plus. The movie clips along rapidly even during the non-action scenes--there's no hidden identity dilemma, no major morality trip, no navel gazing and ruminations about power and responsibility, no long, contrived vengeance plot. There's just this guy who has his consciousness raised so he builds a big metal suit and starts kicking ass. Simple. Elegant. Awesome.

Go see it, and stay all the way through the end credits.

this right here

is a hot yarny mess.

But hey, it only took 2.5 hours to get it to this:

Sheesh.

second thoughts: speed racer

I've been looking forward to this movie for several months now, thinking it safe in the hands of the Wachowskis. The trailers are dazzling and full of innovative visuals. Now that I've read some early reviews . . . I'm not sure that I'm going to handle it. Physically, I mean.

Apparently Speed Racer is a seizure-inducing optic assault for anyone over the age of 10 (Anthony Lane: "True, our eyeballs will slowly, though never completely, recover . . . "). Well, that much I could've gotten from the trailers. Hello -- Japanese cartoon + Matrix + car racing? Of course it's going to be visually overwhelming. That much I got from the trailers.

But the movie clocks in at 2:15. Two hours and 15 minutes. Over two hours of over-saturated acid flashback? I'm not sure I have the stamina for that. Maybe if I sit waaaaay in the back. And have someone there to talk me down.

I do still want to see this movie (just not in IMAX). I wouldn't deserve the appellative "nerdbabe" (tm Colleen) if I didn't see it. It's just now my more hesitant and timid self is projecting Clockwork Orange/Lost's Room 23 (link is spoiler to anyone who hasn't caught up with Season 3) scenarios and it's making me wary.

movie: forgetting sarah marshall

A word about Jason Segel: I have been a big fan since Freaks and Geeks, for two main reasons: his ability to convincingly go from adroably doofy to creepy, and his complete lack of fear (again, Freaks & Geeks fans know of what I speak). I have read a couple other reviews of Forgetting Sarah Marshall that call Jason Segel "schlubby" and claim that it is completely unrealistic to expect that his character could lure just one gorgeous woman into bed--let alone two or four. These reviewers are completely out of touch. Never mind that Segel's character, Peter, is a) a decent guy, b) emotionally supportive, c) employed. A large part of being on board with this character, and the movie in general, is Segel himself. And he is hardly "schlubby." He's more like that Everyman romantic lead that prevailed in the 70s/80s, before people got all air-brush and six-pack happy.

So by now you know the set-up for this movie: Sarah Marshall, star of L&O/CSI clone show, dumps Peter, he goes to Hawaii to recover, but she's there with her new boyfriend. Hijinks and romance ensue.

The movie owes a lot to conventional romantic comedy tropes--the idea that an entire hotel staff would rally behind some dude, for example, is fairly unrealistic but works within this genre. So too with the honeymooning couple (fans of 30 Rock are going to find Jack McBrayer in a role that will not surprise them at all--well, except for the sex part), the new love interest's ex-boyfriend . . . If you just go with it, it's fun.

Watching this in the wake of my own relationship's end perhaps gives me a different perspective on it than I would have otherwise, but I thought the interpersonal aspects of this movie rang absolutely true. I know that most people don't look for Truth in romantic comedies, but isn't it nice when you do find it? The main characters each have their own inner logic. Sarah's new squeeze may be a self-absorbed hedonist, but he's also just this guy who wants to get along with everyone--he isn't particularly jealous (because he's a rock star who can and will sleep with everyone) and he genuinely wants to be friends with Peter. And it makes sense that he's not going to be the emotional support that Sarah needs when she gets some bad news, which then makes her return to Peter completely in character and believable, as is how that situation plays out.

More importantly, the movie makes clear that Peter bears some responsibility for the dissolution of the relationship. Nearly all the characters are believably human, including Sarah--not what you'd expect from the advertising campaign. A handful of characters are written with broad strokes, and they do stand out as weaknesses in an otherwise perfectly enjoyable movie. 

Yes, there are moments of raunch and some full frontal shots. There are a couple cringe-worthy moments but mostly the movie made me laugh and laugh and laugh. Again, it may be in large part because I simply adore Jason Segel. It may be because I am for the most part a fan of the Judd Apatow oeuvre. Within that spectrum, I would place Forgetting Sarah Marshall closer to The 40 Year-Old Virgin than the others. Definitely worth seeing.

day in the life

Inspired by Kim--this was my fairly excellent day yesterday:

6:00 AM ~ The morning routine with Scout begins. He gets close enough to my face that his nose touches my cheek, I push him off the bed. He meows. I shush. He meows. I shush. I am making more of an effort to get more sleep in the morning, as opposed to falling asleep by 9:30 PM, so I pull the covers up, ignore the outdoor noise, and try to drift back to sleep. Scout meows, I reach for the spray bottle, spray in his direction, he trots away.

6:30 ~ The above happens again.

7:00 ~ Lather, rinse, repeat.

7:30 ~ Now I get up. Scout is thrilled, follows me into the bathroom (to make sure I don't try to escape before feeding him?), then into the kitchen, where I open a new can of food, scoop a little into his bowl, gloop the rest into a container (I think I actually say "gloop" when this happens) and store it in the fridge.

7:35 ~ Shower time. The hot water is unusually fierce this morning, as though someone reset the boiler or something. I don't really know how all that works--just that I have to position the handle farther over on the "C" side than I usually do. I wash my hair for the first time since Wednesday--longer than usual; I've been averaging washing my hair every four days or so.

8:00 ~ I have dressed, combed through my hair (I will style/dry it later), and am now making coffee. Mmmmm, coffee. Today marks the first day in an extremely long time--quite possibly since the day I stopped working in an office--that I have showered and dressed before making the coffee. In the past I have gotten up, thrown on some clothes (which, prior to today, had been sweats and a t-shirt, or pajamas), made the coffee, gone to the computer, and read through news/blogs and started working for hours before I managed to make it to the shower--if I made it to the shower at all. Why the change in routine today? I think it's psychological. I am in a new phase, a new stage of life, there are things that I want to happen, changes that need to be made, and a change in routine is going to help me, if only by allowing for the possibility for a shift in attitude and perspective.

8:10 ~ Coffee mug in hand, I start on the pre-work Internet routine. Blogs are read, news is read, joblists are browsed (still nothing), Typepad is opened and I start jotting down notes for a review of Forgetting Sarah Marshall (coming soon). Scout jumps up on the desk, walks across the keyboard, settles down right next to the laptop. I hear kids on their way to school.

8:55 ~ Time for the second mug of coffee. I do not feel emotionally ready to start working.

9:01 ~ Check work email. Have a couple minor hissyfits. Write notes for things that need to change/be redone to prepare for the morning phone with boss.

10:11 ~ Phone call with boss, in which I offer to complete the work started by someone else and she agrees--we are running far too short on time for there to be another option. Today will be a busy day, but this is fine, because I haven't had a busy day in too long. Busy is far more preferable to not busy.

10:30-1:30 PM ~ I juggle between various work and non-work tasks. Mostly work (because I am BUSY, for the first time in MONTHS, and it feels GOOD), but I also do the dishes from last night and this morning's coffee. I go into the bathroom to run the iron over my hair and realize...I kinda like my hair right now. I've been drying it straight for weeks, so even without styling it is drying straight-ish, but with a little bit of kink. I run some straightening de-frizzing gel through my hair and let it be.

2:00 ~ I leave the apartment and head to the subway, en route to an appointment. My soundtrack for this trip: Elvis Costello & The Attractions, Get Happy!! (Sometimes I am obvious.)

4:25 ~ Back at my desk. My boss has sent an email that says she thinks the work I just submitted looks good. Excellent.

4:30 - 6:00 ~ More work time. My right eye starts bugging out with allergies. Have one last phone call with boss to set up tomorrow's agenda and go over a couple new items that came up during the day. We are agreed on many things. This makes work easy.

6:20 ~ Time to make dinner: Tomato, red onion and white bean salad (w/fresh oregano that smells fantastic and tastes sweet) and leftover mango chicken sausage.

6:45 ~ Food in hand, I settle in to finish watching No Country For Old Men. I started watching it weeks ago but fell asleep in the middle, a reflection more on my state of mind and circumstances than the movie itself, which is completely engrossing and excellent. When I'm done with dinner I pick up the Dollar and a Half cardigan back and hit the armhole shaping. The thought occurs to me that in order to get the back/fronts/sleeves to match up stripe-wise I may have to redo the sleeve cap.

7:45 ~ I watch the "Making of" bonus feature.

8:30 ~ Time for How I Met Your Mother. Another kinda meh episode.

9:00 ~ Gossip Girl, via DVR. A pretty sweet episode.

9:50 ~ I have completely forgotten that the sheets I ordered last week arrived this afternoon--I brought them up on my way back from my appointment but went straight back to work without opening them. I unpack them--the flat and fitted sheets are a solid terra cotta color ("Canyon," in the Company Store palette) while the shams (pillow cases were sold out) are "Tea Green." I'd prefer matching sheets but when clearance-shopping, you get what you can. Both colors coordinate with my comforter cover, so at least there's that. I just need to wash them now, which can't happen until Wednesday--the laundromat is closed on Tuesdays. Plus, bonus: the sheets came in one of those zippered pouches that I can repurpose for yarn storage.

10:00 ~ Despite getting up at 7:30, I'm getting pretty tired. It's been a busy day! I pick up I Capture the Castle and read on the couch, nodding off somewhere around 10:25 or so.

11:00 ~ Feed the cat one last time before bed. The minute I get under the covers Scout jumps up and settles in at the foot of the bed. I think it's safe to say that we've helped each other through the transition to single-occupancy.

Maybe today I'll be able to stay up past 10:30 PM. Or maybe this is only possible when I go out at night?

 

direct from the ottoman empire

"Full of furniture, for some reason..."

My storage ottomans from The Company Store* arrived this morning, just as I was coming in from the farmer's market.

They are even more lovely than I expected--the fabric feels like Chinese silk (but clearly isn't) and the tufted tops are quite comfortable.

Of course, the minute I set them up by the window . . .

They're not going to stay lined up with the window. Immediately to the right is where the piano (fingers crossed) will go, which will push the ottomans off center. I now have the piano dimensions, and at 58" long it will barely fit--but it will fit--in the 59" wide slightly recessed area. And at 25" deep, it will fit--barely--up the 30" wide staircase. The only thing to consider now is how the movers will navigate the shallow turns up the stairs, but this would be why I would consult professionals.

* The name "The Company Store" always makes me start humming "Company Book."

hey, I finished a sock!

Today's post is brought to you by the color purple and KnitPicks, who knew I needed to get something good in the mail.

I started a lace project at the beginning of this week, but it wasn't going well. The yarn was too thin even for my 3.00mm needles. I have had this trouble before, and compensated by doubling the yarn. This time I decided to bend to the yarn's will instead of the other way around, but this required new needles.

I turned to KnitPicks, and given how slippery laceweight yarn can be, opted to go for the Harmony despite my general preference for metal needles. What you see above are 40" Harmony needles in sizes 2.00, 2.25, 2.5, and 2.75. I figured it would be wise to cover all bases, and wise to get the 40" so when I'm not knitting lace they can be used Magic Loop-style, and wise-ish to buy four needles for a little over the price of one of the Addi Lace needles.

And then I couldn't pass up the chance to get free shipping, especially since I could buy a sweater's worth of yarn and only just push my total over the free shipping mark. I am aware that I probably shouldn't be buying yarn at all in the first place, but you know, I wanted the yarn therapy (hat tip) and whatever. I justified it somehow. It's not like I'm buying Koigu cashmere. Onward.

I perused my Ravelry queue and came up with Thermal, so that skein on the right is Gloss in a new color: Cosmos. I had a hard time deciding between that and Parsley, flirted with the idea of getting both for the additional shopper's high, then rationally opted for only getting the yarn I knew would be used. And I do love the color, and I believe I have the buttons already. I also know that I'm going to start this sweater as soon as Dollar and a Half is done (I'm nearing the armhole shaping on the back).

On to the sock. Yes, I finally finished the ONE sock I started ONE MONTH ago.

Would you guess that this is Koigu? Look at that striping action going on! I didn't even realize how uniform it is until Juno pointed out that Koigu doesn't usually act like this. At least, not typically. Or are we both wrong on that?

At any rate, I started the second sock and have a sinking feeling that it's not going to turn out the same way. But the pattern is absolutely delightful. Again, it's Flint Knits' Marigold (Ravelry link to free download). Super easy to memorize, though there is a spot on the foot where I forgot to do a purl row, so it looks like an extra-wide band. Because of the color changes it's less noticeable, not that I would've ripped out and reknit had it been glaringly obvious.

here's a question you don't hear every day

How weird would it be to have a piano in the bedroom?

It would certainly shift the craft nook into a more "artistic retreat" aesthetic.

*TV fantasy swirls*

Picture it: lounging on a divan, sipping a summery white wine, knitting lace, crisp linen curtains stirring ever so slightly in the warm summer afternoon breeze, a tuxedoed man providing the Debussy (my fantasy. In your fantasy, you may choose to have a tuxedoed woman, or a naked man, or a naked woman, or I don't know, Nora. Totally up to you.)

(Wait a minute. It's my fantasy. Clive Owen is providing the Debussy.)

And after hours, there's a piano bar in my bedroom and everyone's invited.

*back to reality swirls*

Long-time readers may remember that I entered Brooklyn with a piano. It's really a spinet, like the one here. I lived for about four years in a large/cheap/scary apartment that accommodated the piano, but when I moved to Fort Greene (I realize I have lost many readers by now, because they're still up there with the image of Clive Owen playing the piano. Thank you, those of you who followed me down here) it was to a cohabitational situation wherein the piano would not fit. Michael's mom graciously and generously accepted the piano into her apartment, but obviously that's no longer appropriate.

I am left with these options:

1. Move the piano here. This is my first choice, provided it will fit up the stairs.

2. Find someone else willing to house a piano for the next few years. As I know so few people in the city who are truly settled, whom I also trust, and who have the room, this is becoming less of an option. Unfortunately no one in my immediate family has the room for it.

3. Put the piano in storage. It's an option, but at $60-100/month, a costly one.

4. Sell the piano. The piano was left to me by my grandfather, and though I haven't played in quite a while it means more to me than I could ever express. I am on board with living a less cluttered life, I understand the logic involved in disposing of things that one has been holding on to solely for sentimental value, but the piano is off the table unless the situation becomes absolutely desperate. Even then, I think I'd rather suck it up and dip into the money that I should be saving in order to pay for storage.

I should know whether the piano will fit through the stairwell within the next few days. Keep your fingers crossed, for that and for an inexpensive move (two flights of stairs? Ouch), and hopefully soon I'll be asking for your drink orders and song requests.

follow ups are hard

Feels disingenuous to write some sort of "hey, I finished a sock!" post today. (Even though I did.)

Feels a little like I should write more in navel-gazing vein, just for continuity.

At the same time, the loudest thing in my head right now is "I can keep the bathroom door open now."

Well, second loudest. The loudest keeps distracting me with furniture and other decor that will go towards converting the empty bedroom space into (friends, say it with me) a craft nook. I am going to need a table for my sewing machine. I'm thinking minimalist, preferably wood but metal OK, and cheap. Cheapy cheap. Like, free or close too. I wonder if I should just get a folding table or something, wait to invest in a "real" table until I'm more situated. I could wrap fabric around the edge of the table, secure with elastic, disguise its folding-ness. Thoughts?

Also need a comfy chair. I have to admit, I have been fantasizing about putting a comfy chair by the window in the bedroom ever since I moved in. Sharing the apartment was an acceptable compromise, sure, but now I can have my comfy chair. I've already found a couple storage ottomans, on clearance ($19!) that will serve as a window bench and extra yarn storage (so I can free up closet space, woo). The comfy chair may need to wait until after I get new dining room chairs, which I have needed to do...forever. (The link goes to chairs that are very like the ones that need replacing. Question is do I do the stain myself to save a couple bucks? Do I forgo the matchy match inclination and paint the chairs green?)

And I'm just enamored of this wall decal--definitely within my budget as well. I'm thinking in either turquoise or apple green. But I also may paint. Or I may do both. This will require more thinking. Fortunately I have time before my blood money tax rebate comes in. (Much as I loathe the fact that I'm getting one, I can't help but admit that it's going to come in rather handy.)

It's a little bit of retail therapy (which I have already indulged in, as much as I could, by buying more lace-knitting needles) and a little bit of symbolic redecorating (I also have new bed linens on the way). Truth be told, the apartment was already 80-95% mine: my furniture, my work, my legwork in finding it in the first place. Which is not to say that it need have remained so (I remember having a heated discussion over a certain person's lack of involvement in making the apartment "ours"). But it does make the transition a bit easier--there is less space to be filled.

my life is in a state of disarray

I had a teacher who said that, once, and it was immediately inscribed in the Book my friends and I kept of the things he said that we found amusing. We found him amusing a lot--but mostly laughing at him, not with him. 16 was not an emotionally mature age for me. The word "disarray" still triggers this memory--in fact, this is the only thing I remember him saying, though we had copied down pages worth. And it's not even that funny. Maybe it was all in the delivery.

My life is currently in a state of disarray. Michael is moving out this week. That's all anyone reading this here needs to know; the details not for public consumption. But I seem to be compelled to record this turn of events. I wrote about the beginning of our relationship, so it seems fitting that at the very least I mention its end.

And I must mention my very excellent friends, who, though scattered across the world, are proving their excellence in many ways -- from offering retreat to sending care packages to leaving the comfort of their own homes to just sit with me. I realized a couple weeks ago that I have never experienced a breakup while having such a strong support network, and it's really making all the difference in the world. That I met most of these friends via this blog again merits mention.

In a very short period I have gone through just about all of the stages of grief and have come out at Acceptance. This is a death; it's the death of a relationship I had thought stronger than it was, and it is sad, and I will be sad for a while, but I can also see that being sad about the end of this relationship is better than being sad in the relationship which, through the clarity of hindsight, I have discovered was the case. In fact, I have discovered that it has been a really, really, really long time since I have been genuinely happy. And that's due to more than the broken relationship -- that's due to a number of factors that need sorting and cataloging (the process of which has already begun).

I'm staying where I am, geographically speaking, for as long as I can. I'm still so besotted with my neighborhood that I can't think of leaving it. I've put a lot of work into the apartment already, and frankly, I'm looking forward to doing more with the space. The decision to stay has required some belt-tightening and creative financial maneuvering and a whole new internal dialog about where I am and where I could be career-wise, but regardless of what happens I am financially able to stay where I am, and that's a comfort.