Zombie Spaceship Wasteland Ballet Cupcakes

I'm stuck at home for the second day in a row with a migraine. Yesterday it was so bad that I spent a large part of the day just laying on the floor. There should be a second clause in that sentence, like, "laying on the floor... reading a book" or "laying on the floor... thinking of recipes." But what no one tells you is that above all, maybe even more than being wretchedly painful, migraines are unbelievably boring. The pain keeps you from doing anything: reading (no concentration), watching TV (too bright and loud), eating (too nauseated), even sleeping, SLEEPING! all of those things are out of the question.

Today is a little bit better--obviously, I'm blogging--but there are still a lot of other things I'd rather be doing. I would actually rather be at work right now than spending another minute laying on the floor with a pillow over my head. Oh, there it is, I found my other clause! "...With a pillow over my head."

Anyway: I got on here to write a couple of book reviews, and I think, for the first time ever, a movie review! I can't promise that the products of my fever-adled brain will be worth reading, but I have to do something besides stare at the insides of my eyelids.

Zombie Spaceship Wasteland

By Patton Oswalt

It makes me sad that most people only know Patton Oswalt as the voice of Remy from Ratatouille or that second-string character from King of Queens (yeah, that). He deserves more recognition if not just because he's disgustingly, crushingly funny, and might be the only person in L.A. who is a genuinely nice person, then because he also speaks to the inner core of my nerd soul. I don't want to say that this book is for book-nerds and sci-fi dorks and people who are still teenagers inside--but I have no real proof that it's not. Its best chapters are the ones that firmly grip this demographic and don't let go.  He mentions Richard Brautigan on the first page. He has a transcendent experience while reading The Man in the High Castle and listening to R.E.M. He asks, which are you? A Zombie, a Spaceship, or a Wasteland? If you don't already have some tiny idea or are not the least bit curious this is probably not the book for you.

In case you wondered, I'm a wasteland. I chose to live in a town with 300 people (can I go back?) and my favorite types of books and movies are ones like The Stand and Mad Max: Beyond Thunderdome where there are no people and we just start over.

I would recommend this book to: Kacie, and fans of Harlan Ellison.

Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children

By Ransom Riggs

By all means, judge this book by its cover.  If ever a book made a case for the existence of a physical book as an artifact, this one does.  The hard cover edition of this book is beautiful, and it is filled with beautiful black and white photos that are an essential part of the story.

Many contemporary novels are carried away by detailed descriptions of characters without a lot of plot--which has its time and place but can be tiring.  It seems like you've got to go to the YA section to find a novel that has both.  Harry Potter, The Hunger Games... if an "adult" novel has a plot, it gets filed under "genre fiction." But that is neither here nor there. This book has both interesting--though maybe not the deepest--characters and a swift-moving plot. The writing style won't necessarily win any awards, but what it lacks in poetry, it makes up in being entertaining and full-bodied. The author creates a rich and believable alternate world that you just fall into. It's a satisfying book.

I would recommend this book to: Jessica R. and definitely, definitely Amber, and you'll know why once you read it.

The Red Shoes (1948)

Dir. Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger

I hadn't heard of this film until about three weeks ago, when it just started popping up everywhere. It was mentioned in two books I read, on a film app I have and on a website I'm into. Fate.

Have you ever been to a real ballet? I haven't been since I saw The Nutcracker when I was about ten. Did you see Black Swan? Of course you did, that shit was crazy.

This film is an obvious precursor to Black Swan--not just because of the ballet but because of its strange psychological tension--but unlike Black Swan it does a better job of balancing darkness and light. It clearly influenced other films like Singin' in the Rain as well, and whereas the long dance scene in Singin' in the Rain is tedious and awful (I said it), the long ballet sequence in this film is exquisite.  I'm not particularly into old films--my attention span is short and I think they laugh at stupid things--but I can understand why this film has been called the best dance movie of all time. I'm not sure I'm prepared to call it that (Flashdance? Anyone? Crickets? Just kidding.), but I'm definitely prepared to recommend this.

WHAT NOW.

Yes, this is the only photo I managed to take all wedding weekend.

Thursday I took what you may have heard me refer to as my "Defense Against the Dark Arts" final, AKA my American Detective Fiction final.  Though if we're being honest here, the final wasn't just a test on Thursday, it was a week-long marathon that included turning in a 15-page paper the Thursday prior, reading two novels, giving a presentation Wednesday, and then taking the final.  And it was more of a stamina test than anything else.

But I digress. I submitted my application to graduate today.

So the question is what now? My highly technical, spur of the moment answer is "who cares?" I'm done! It's summer! Go outside and eat a popsicle! A dreamsicle even! Though of course this is America and everyone wants to know everyone else's dreams and ambitions. (If this were France, I'm sure someone would just hand me a bottle of wine and a goose and then we'd all go take naps.)

Well, what's next is I'm going to go see Harry Potter Part VII.2.  Then I have only four weeks left of my internship at the GU Press before my ten-year high school reunion and Uruguay! Astonishing!  My boss keeps saying things like, "but you don't have to worry about that because you won't even be here then!" And then she laughs, and then I realize that where I'll be when said event to which she's referring occurs is in Machu Picchu.

Sometimes I sit agape and have conversations with my ten-year-old self, who was plum convinced that she would never fly on a plane or go anywhere and see anything interesting in the world.  When I tell her all the things we've done so far (she and I) she's usually a little dumbfounded.  Which is only appropriate, because I'm a little nonplussed myself.

People keep asking me WHAT I'M GOING TO DO WITH MY DEGREE. In the same way that people ask you what you're going to do with your new speedboat, or your new box of water colors, or the dining room set you won on The Price is Right. This is a very aggravating question for me because, while I understand that having an advanced degree helps you to get a better job, etc., I don't believe that that is necessarily it's purpose under all circumstances.  What I'm going to do with my degree is HAVE IT. And appreciate the experience of having gotten it and maybe, privately, pretend I'm a little smarter because of it.  (And, yes, try to pay off the loans I accrued because of it.) Like a speedboat, a degree has a practical application, but I believe that practical application is advanced critical thinking in everyday life, not just resume dressing.

Also, I may take my degree out on the lake an try to do some sweet jumps.

And then I'm going to plan my wedding.

When things get out of hand...

I'm just awful.  A month ago I sat down to write ONE quick book review because I was so excited and I just couldn't contain myself, but then I tripped and accidentally read ten books in the meantime. That isn't bragging, that's me being a ridiculous book pervert. So instead of vomiting all those book reviews here and now, I'm going to try to write a couple over the next few days starting with the beginning...

Packing for Mars: The Curious Science of Life in the Void
By Mary Roach

This is the fourth Mary Roach book I've read, which speaks highly for any author, let alone a non-fiction one.  You may recall that I had the enlightening experience of reading her previous book, Bonk!, out loud to Tim on a road trip and embarrassing myself in ways I didn't think was possible.  This book achieves the almost unimaginable feat of being un-put-down-able and taking embarrassment to a new level.  Consider for a moment these chapter titles: "Throwing Up and Down: The Astronaut's Secret Misery," "Houston, We Have a Fungus: Space Hygiene and the Men Who Stopped Bathing for Science," and "Separation Anxiety: The Continuing Saga of Zero-Gravity Elimination."  Topics covered also include cadavers, sex, space-food, and the psychological effects of space.  There were more than a few moments when my combined squirming and horrified shrieking were enough that Tim begged to know what I was reading about... but it shall remain unspoken.  Simply put... I could never, ever, ever, ever, ever be an astronaut. It's a ridiculous, disgusting job.  No one describes these kinds of things better or with more candor than Mary Roach.

I would recommend this book to: my dad and anyone who needs a good laugh.

Bossypants
By Tina Fey

Oh Tina. Tina, Tina, Tina.  This is the first book I actually spent real American dollars for on my Kindle because I simply could not wait to get it in my hot little hands.  It was totally worth it too.  And, bonus, the Kindle edition is also a good choice for those who are horrified by the cover of the book.

Anyone expecting this to be a solid memoir about her time running 30 Rock (because it's titled, well, Bossypants) it's totally in for a surprise.  Anyone who would gladly listen to anything Tina Fey had to say for hours on end is in for a treat. Pretend for a moment that Tina Fey called your house and said, "Oh, I have this great story I want to tell you..." and then just launched into it. Any interruption that occurred during this story would be like the apocalypse.  Someone else calls? You have to pee? It's dinner time? The FedEx guy shows up with a box full of kittens? NOT NOW!!! TINA FEY IS TALKING TO ME.

That's what reading this book is like.  I defy you to put it down.  I also defy you to read it in public without being stared at as you cackle madly.

I would recommend this book. (Tim read half of it in one sitting and was laughing so hard I thought his face would break.) Period.

The Loved One
By Evelyn Waugh

One of these things is not like the others.

Ok, admittedly, it's not really fair to group poor Evelyn with these two books.  However, let us judge it one its own merits.  The Loved One's humor is much more subtle and very dark.  It is, after all, about funeral homes in Hollywood.  This short novel (subtitled "An Anglo-American Tragedy"--how great is that?!) begins with a warning that states, among other things, "this is a nightmare and in parts, perhaps, somewhat gruesome.  The squeamish should return their copies to the library or the bookstore unread."  If that's not a dare, then I don't know what is.

Some people take pleasure in watching the British make fun of the Americans and make themselves look foolish in the meantime.  I happen to be one of those people.  I also like books where people who are absurd think that they're complete normal.  I wouldn't give this book my highest recommendation because it's a weeeence snooty, but if you're in the mood for some snooty intellectual gruesomeness you couldn't get a better read.

I would recommend this book to Jessica R., but only because she put Evelyn Waugh on my radar first.

Bonus material: Because of Bossypants, I got excited and decided that we had to hike Old Rag Mountain (yes, that's a thing) because it's something Tina Fey does in the book.  We thought it would take like three hours, plus the two-hour drive to get there and the two-hours back.  We didn't factor in "Virginia" and Tim's fondness for "taking back roads" and Google Maps' distaste for "rural areas."  Hence, we got lost.  When we finally found the trail-head, the park ranger smirked at our suggestion that the hike would take three hours.  It took five (that sounds like a bfd unless your the one on the mountain).  I'm quite sure Tina Fey downplays the amount of physical danger they encountered hiking Old Rag at night without water or a flashlight because there are a number of what I would like to call "death opportunities" on the trail. Still and all, it was an amazing hike aaaaaaand probably the closest I'll ever get to Tina Fey unless Sarah Palin's crazy-bus ever drives over Capital Hill again.

Mike, in a death crag.

Thanks, Einstein.

You might notice a trend. I like to broil things on top of other things.

This morning I made an open face turkey and tomato sandwich that I copied from Einstein Bros. I have no idea where the nearest Einstein Bros. is so this will have to do, and anyway I kind of like mine better because I can control all the variables (except that no one sells salt bagels in DC, which is a detriment to the entire region).

This is a pretty glorious breakfast if you remember three important things I learned the hard way:

1. Buffer. There MUST be a solid buffer in between the tomato and the bread! If you don't like turkey, fine (why?) but find something else (smoked salmon? More cheese?) or this is reduced to a soggy mess.

2. Burning. Watch anything you put in the broiler. I left my first attempt unattended the other day and had to eat a soggy... and yet also burned, somewhat smokey open-faced mess in the dark on the floor the other day. I guess I didn't have to eat it in the dark on the floor, but I was late for work and that was the kind of morning I was having.

3. Seasoned salt. Don't leave this out. The people at Einstein Bros. sometimes forget this and it's just a travesty.

Here's the low down:

1 Bagel or English Muffin (per person)
Mayonnaise (optional)
2 slices of deli turkey
Thinly sliced tomato
Cheddar Cheese
Seasoned Salt in whatever variety you like (Cavender's Greek would be good on this)

Preheat the Broiler and make sure your oven is in the second or third from the top position (close-but-not-too-close)

Slice open your bagel or English muffin. The proper way to open an English muffin is to pierce the sides with a fork, inserted horizontally all the way around the edges. It will just fall open. Did you know that? Anyway.

Spread mayo on your bread-product if that floats your boat.

Layer the meat (buffer), tomato, and cheese in that order on to the bread on a baking sheet and insert it into the oven. Keep an eye on it! In about 3-4 minutes it will be melty and bubbly. Remove from oven and sprinkle generously with seasoned salt.

This is so delicious. Watch for falling tomato goo.

This tomato is currently growing on my patio, in the same box with my oregano and lavender. I can't wait to eviscerate it and turn it into a delicious open face sandwich.

Love.

I was going to write a book review, but I have a migraine so instead I'm going to post a list of the top five celebrities-I'm-currently-moderately-obsessed-with-to-the-point-that-maybe-Tim-should-be-a-little-worried.

1. Duh.


2. Ray Stevenson, AKA "Titus Pullo" from HBO's Rome. Aka, Athos, or Porthos... I can never tell the three legit musketeers apart.





3. Dude, in addition to his beard, he's friends with Fiona Apple.

4. I don't care.


5. I would see any movie Mark Twain was in.

Sum-sum-summertime

According to Wikipedia the meteorological beginning of Summer is June 1. However, it's been summer in DC for a couple of weeks already. How do I know? There are a couple of glaring indicators.

1. Actual Meteorological Evidence (deal, Wikipedia): DC has two seasons only--Rainy-suck and Hot-suck. There are short transition periods of about two weeks between these in October and May known as "Spring" and "Fall." Those collective four weeks are the most amazing weeks in DC. Everything is breezy, mild and pleasant. If you blink, you will miss them. The May transition period ("Spring") ended about five days ago ((*blink*)). We have now entered Hot-suck--if you walk outside, expect to sweat immediately and forever.

2. All sort of awesome (if sweaty) summer events have started: Screen on the Green (movies on the national mall on a giant inflatable screen!), Jazz in the Sculpture Garden (exactly what it sounds like), pools are opening, everyone on earth is having a yard sale (no, I don't want your shower curtain!)!

3. The Capital Hillbillies showed up in Lincoln park yesterday. That means a man was playing a piano under a tree. 'Nuff said. (Sorry this is an awful picture.)

4. We saw Eleanor Holmes Norton shopping in our CVS. That in itself is not really an indicator of summer, but she was wearing a pink sundress. The woman is nothing if not an important barometer of the state of affairs (and seasonal changes) in DC.

5. As I said on Facebook, I've had "One Week" by the Barenaked Ladies stuck in my head for days. This really has nothing to do with summer in DC in particular, but it happens every year when summer comes. Everything about BNL makes me think of summer. Sue me.

6. Tourists. Not the regular small, family groups of tourists that are always present, but tourists with matching t-shirts, have started to arrive and stand in the doorways of things: museums, metros, coffee shops, chain restaurants. Any doorway they can find, they will happily congregate in it--loosely enough to take up space, but tightly enough that you cannot penetrate their force-field of confusion. This weekend there were thousands and thousands of bikers in black leather on the Mall. Sweating. In their leather. Looking around for doorways to congregate in.

7. Slugs have started squeezing under our back door so that they can infiltrate our trashcan. This experience is unique to DC. Luckily/Blessedly they don't seem to have figured out that the trashcan is in a kitchen full of all sorts of other amazing non-garbage things to eat. They pretty much just go for the trashcan. If that horrifies you and makes you not want to come to my house... I have to ask, were you planning on eating out of my trashcan? I put down a barrier of salt so don't worry about it. They should stay outside. And so should vampires. Or witches. Or something, I can't remember what salt barriers are supposed to keep out.

Anyway, there are all sorts of other indicators. Like the air on capital hill smells like grilled meat, it's almost my birthday, H&M is selling nothing but sundresses, I want to eat every meal outside, the sun doesn't go down until 9:00, I'm taking a summerclass, and we can hear the fireworks from the ballpark at our house. SUMMER.

Fail Waffles

I normally don't do this, but I was reading through some of my old posts and came across this one: Failure is Imminent. I have no idea what the result might have been because Google doesn't use this feature anymore (I'm guessing it had something to do with George Bush), but this is what you get when you search "failure" now (click for larger image).


For the record, according to the googles, "Fail Waffles" are not a thing. But they should be.

Update: Wikipedia is incredibly helpful. Still you've got to love how very non sequitur and... Belgian this is.