Tag Archives: Felicity

All By Myself (I Want to Be)

11 May

Molly and Mazall are out of town, which means that for 36 hours I have the apartment to myself. Solitude is a rare treat in New York—there are people with you on the subway, people with you on the sidewalk, people with you in a cab (the cab driver!), people with you at work, people with you at restaurants, people with you at bars, people waiting in line before you in restrooms, and when you come home at night there are people waiting for you with complaints about boys and requests for a manicure.  One of these people is probably wearing stretch pants.

So when you find yourself alone, you really have to take advantage of it. I only have 36 hours to myself and so far most of those hours have been taken up by sleep and/or work.  But I’m using the few remaining hours to their fullest.  Here are some things I’ve been doing, re-inacted by the dog, Aggy*

Continue reading

Updating My Netflix Queue

4 Apr

Molly said that I don’t blog enough. Apparently copy/pasting emails from Janice doesn’t count as blogging. Well, fine. I’ll write something. There’s just one problem: I’m not really sure what to say. I am a fascinating woman with impeccable taste, an amazing life and good clothes—how can I possibly pick just one thing to discuss? Maybe what I’ve been renting on Netflix?

Things that I have watched while sitting on the couch in pajamas:

Fargo is coldFargo: First of all, the film actually takes place in Minnesota. Thanks for the false advertising, Coen Brothers. Murder is fun, I always like movies that involve murder. Or bank robberies. Or thieving. Basically, I like people who do bad things and therefore, I really liked this film. It was a neatly packaged story that was tightly told. However, the wood chipper scene was a total letdown. (You could only see one foot!) Also, people in Minnesota don’t really talk like that. I know quite a few of them and sure, they do love their dipthongs and weird vowel sounds, but for the most part they sound normal. Disclaimer: I’m from Chicago.

Gilmore GirlsGilmore Girls season 2: Okay, I know it’s not cool or edgy to like Gilmore Girls, and the show isn’t campy enough to be a tongue-in-cheek guilty pleasure (see: Felicity) but it is legitimately good and anyone who denies it either a) hasn’t seen it or b) is sexist. If a guy can watch a football game without worrying about the fact that he just spent 2 hours staring intently at Spandexed, muscular men as they jumped on top of each other in an orgy of overvalued athleticism, then why should I be made to feel shallow for spending a Saturday morning watching Loreli Gilmore fast-talk her way through life, love and five cups of coffee at a small-town Connecticut diner? My favorite TV show is M*A*S*H and I really love Full Metal Jacket, am I not allowed to be a girl sometimes? Give me a break. Anyway. Season 2 is much better than Season 1 because in Season 2, Rory is dating Jess instead of Dean. Dean was tall (i.e., hot) but he was too nice. He’d be all, “Here, I made you this thoughtful present that perfectly represents your personality,” and I wanted to slap him. Jess is a bad boy who doesn’t return her phone calls. Girls like bad boys. It’s a fact.

Rachel Getting MarriedRachel Getting Married. Anne Hathaway’s face doesn’t fit on her head. This is a major source of irritation for me because my life is empty and I have nothing else to worry about. She is the visual equivalent of an out-of-tune piano. That said, she was really good in this film. At least, I think she was. Maybe? I’m not sure, I was too distracted by her makeup. I get that she’s all angsty, but does she really have to go all raccoon-eyes on us? Also, I’m not sure I’m allowed to say this because I’m a WASP, but the movie seemed awfully multicultural, in a very inorganic sort of way. The preppy New England family had an Indian-themed wedding but never explained why. I felt like I was in a Pier One store throughout the entire thing. You know, pillows with tassels and whatnot. Anyway, Rachel Getting Married is another one of those dark-froth-lurking-underneath-the-surface of-an-otherwise-picturesque-suburban-family films, which, when done well, is self-indulgent and fun. Who knew that being upper middle class was so damn hard?!?!

victor victoriaVictor/Victoria: If Julie Andrews is a man, then I’m black. Movie fail.

I’m too tired to come up with a headline

27 Mar

Wow, so apparently Molly has a lot more free time than I do. How did she figure out how to add pictures? I have no idea how to do that. I bet Evan could tell me, he knows everything. Evan! How do you add pictures? Hey, Evan! Evan evan evan. EVAN Evaaaannnnnnn.
I think he’s ignoring me.
I can’t write a real entry because it’s 11 pm and I still have to read the second half of a book about (redacted) so I can interview (redacted) in the morning about why in the world anyone would want to (redacted).
Instead, I will leave you with some thoughts that have made their way through my incredibly vapid, blond mind within the past few days.
Continue reading