A lesson in seat saving.

October 29, 2009 | Everybody's got one, Whinging

Last night, I went to a photographer’s meeting to hear some famous dude speak. I always feel a little like a poser at these things, like I’m not QUITE cool enough to be there. So when I found the meeting room at the hotel where it was held, I took a deep breath, activated Ginger, and strode confidently into the room. I glanced about for any open seats and found one in the middle of the 4th row. Other seats nearby had coats and notebooks or humans guarding them, but not this one. I sat down, got comfortable, then heard my name called from behind me. Oh! A friend from a Me Ra Koh workshop! Hooray! I began chit chatting, starting to feel a little more comfortable, when I heard all of a sudden, in a snippy tone I might add, “That seat’s taken.”

Here’s where the lesson in seat saving begins. When I am queen of the universe, the rules will be like so: You cannot save a seat with air. A coat will do, even a pen. If you’re at a bar, you must leave something on the seat, or put your coaster over your beer. You must leave SOME INDICATION that you plan to return. Alternatively, a person may save as many seats as she likes, if she’s there guarding them, and she tells you BEFORE YOU SIT DOWN that the seat is saved. Those are the rules.

If, for some reason, one has followed all the above rules and still someone has sat in one of the “saved” seats, it is on the saver to phrase their request in a way that allows the sitter to be the nice one. For instance, “Excuse me? My friend was sitting there. He just got up for a second…” This, or something similar, should be said while making apologetic facial expressions or hand gestures. This will allow the sitter to smile and say, “Oh, okay, no problem,” and feel good about what a nice person they are as they search for another seat.

But when someone declares, IN A SNIPPY TONE I might add, that your seat is somehow taken by proprietary air molecules, all I wanna do is say, That’s right, bitch! BY ME.

Seriously. This is something that has always bugged me that I find it impossible to be zen about. Line cutters? I’m fine with it. Bad driving related lameness? No problem. But this, “that seat is saved” business is more than I can breathe through.

• голова болит секс

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Please explain this to me.

February 25, 2009 | Everybody's got one

Can you see what that is? Yes, indeed, it is flourescent hair dye for your pubes.

Are people doing this now? The display was next to the shampoos at my salon as if this is something that people do. If you look closely, this product is apparently an award winner.

I just don’t get it. Is it just for strippers? Who else has their pubes on display?

Are you all dying your pubes hot pink and I just don’t know it?

As if this all were not complicated enough, you can also buy stencils. You know, to make dyed shapes in your pubes.

I don’t understand, but I gotta say, I’m against it. I personally find the expectation of any kind of grooming down there offensive. All the rampant deforestation is one thing, but now we’re supposed to DYE it, too? And not even to match the drapes, but flourescents? With a bow tie?

I keep thinking this can’t be real. But there it is.

My opinion about Christmas Tree Lights

December 4, 2008 | Everybody's got one

They should be colored.

I am anti white Christmas tree lights. I think they came on the scene about 15 years ago, along with Martha Stewart. Suddenly colored tree lights were silly or childish and everyone needed sophisticated white lights. Well I say HMPH. Colored lights remind me of being a kid and being excited about Christmas. Also, who among us has a sophisticated Christmas tree anyway?

This is just my opinion. Please feel free to argue with me in the comments.

(By the way, I am aware the tree is falling over. It is actually a potted tree, and the root ball is just not going to stay straight in that pot, no matter what we do. It bugs, but oh well. We’ve never bought a living tree before, but we decided to get one this year and plant it with the baby’s placenta. Isn’t that a good idea?*)

*If you’re squirming about placenta talk, you should know that planting a tree with it is about the least hippie-ish thing you can do. Do I need to tell you some people eat them? Or even worse, keep 30 lbs of placenta in their freezer for 8 years? (cough cough Jesse cough cough)

I don’t get it.

July 25, 2008 | Everybody's got one

Cars with “In memory of So-And-So” decals.

What do they mean? Is it because So-And-So left them the car? Did they buy the car with the inhertitance from So-And-So?

These decals had to be custom made. Was it a party favor form the funeral, perhaps?

Would So-And-So really want to be memorialized on the back of an Escalade?

I just don’t understand. Should I die, and anyone feels moved to memorialize me, I would prefer a nice park bench or the like. For the record.

What is WRONG with The Scene?

December 12, 2007 | Everybody's got one

I apologize to my non-Lute readers for the following post, but I must take a moment to criticize PLU’s alumni magazine. 

So, friends to whom this post is applicable, have you received your recent copy of The Scene? Are you as appalled as I am? Well, perhaps “appalled ” is too strong, but was your enjoyment of the magazine also distracted by the HORRIBLE graphic design?

Let’s start with the cover. What IS that? 

Do you need a close up?

He’s falling over sideways and it’s just not a good picture. I stared at it for far too long, trying to come up with something funny he might be saying here, but I couldn’t, and that’s why this picture sucks. What is he doing? Is he talking? Lecturing, perhaps? Then show me the students! They used an action shot, but took out the context. It bugs.

Another example of a bad picture:

THIS is the photograph you use to illustrate the 14 million dollar renovation of the UC? Really? It’s out of focus! And look how much real estate the stupid ceiling takes up:

It would have been better if it was just a close up of students enjoying lunch and didn’t show the building at all. If the plan is to show the building, than show it.

I don’t even know if I have words for this horror:

WHEEL! OF! PROFESSORS! You might think this design maybe tied into something in the article? That something made this make sense? Somehow? You would be wrong.

This was the worst, though. This is the profile of a distinguished alum who happens to be a fancy-pants fashion designer, who is male, and lives in New York City. According to the Scene, “In November, Cockrell and his significant other had a son named Harlow.”

His “significant other?” Not his partner? This “significant other” doesn’t even get a name?  Of course not! Then we might know that he might be a male, too!

This just seems super offensive in a magazine FULL of profiles of families where the names of husbands and wives are given throughout, and inconsistent with the University’s progressive policies.

Shame on you, Scene. For your bad design AND your wussy politics.

No laughing for young Jen

November 28, 2007 | Everybody's got one

(no spoilers ahead) 

“The Coen Brothers at the peak of their powers. ‘No Country For Old Men’ is a classic in the making” – Rolling Stone

“The Coen Brothers’ best film in ages” – Newsweek

“Nearly defines the essence of movies.” – Chicago Sun Times

“No Country For Old Men is flawless. It’s one hell of a film.” -Roger Ebert

As you know, and my blog title demonstrates, I am a big fan of the Coen Brothers. When I read reviews like the ones above for their latest film, “No County For Old Men,” I jumped for joy! A new Lebowski, perhaps? Or maybe, as this seems like one of their more violent films, a Fargo-esque favorite in the making? Or maybe it will just be weird and delightful like ‘Oh Brother Whereart Thou’…

Well apparently, I’m alone on this, but I did not like it. Well, it’s not that I didn’t *like* it, it’s just that it’s definitely not one of my favorite CB films. But the critics won’t stop talking about what a CLASSIC this movie is. Really?

Has anyone else seen this yet? I’d love to hear some other opinions. SB claimed to really like it, but when pressed, he admitted it didn’t stack up to the others.

Use a mug, damn it!

November 8, 2007 | Everybody's got one

Have I ever mentioned I have an office mate, but we NEVER speak to each other? It’s a little weird. It’s like we both pretend the other doesn’t exist. Really. We do not speak. Ever. 

I have, however, observed that he goes through about 6 of those polystyrene cups every day. Every day! He gets a new one each time he gets a cup of coffee, then a new one a couple of times in the afternoon for water.

But wait, it gets worse. Workplace provides polystyrene recycling in the kitchen. So, theoretically, he could drop his used cup into the bin, then get a fresh one if he so desired. But, no. He does not do that. Do you know where he throws his numerous, wasteful cups?

INTO THE OFFICE PAPER RECYCLER.

I feel this is worthy of several Green Team Citations. I end up fishing the cups out of the recycler and bringing them to the kitchen with me, when I go get coffee IN MY MUG.

Who knew the 80’s were so naughty?

October 5, 2007 | Everybody's got one, Jenny Recommends

Last night, SB and I went to a special, one night only showing of Poltergeist in honor of the 25th anniversary of the film’s release. He totally had to drag me. I saw the movie at a slumber party when I was far too young for such things, and apparently I blocked it out, because I had no memory of the plot.

In case you’re like me and you don’t remember/never saw it/ have no desire to see it, here is a synopsis:

“Suburbanites Steve (Craig T. Nelson) and Diane (JoBeth Williams) suddenly experience paranormal activity in their home. What starts off as minor excitement quickly turns into nasty encounters. The disappearance of their daughter Carol Anne (Heather O’Rourke) forces the Freelings to bring in parapsychologists and a professional exorcist to exorcise their home.”

Anywho, my point today is, MAN, things have changed since 1982. The movie wasn’t scary, but that isn’t my point, either. I was struck by how puritanical our society has become since then. There were several bits in the movie that totally blew my mind. I couldn’t believe a mainstream, Steven Spielberg movie included such things.
 

Firstly, the movie opens with shots of the happy ‘burbs where the movie takes place. There are kids on bikes and families everywhere. Soon after, the cute suburban family gets ready for bed. The pretty mom tucks the kids in, the dad helps them not to be afraid of the storm, and then the parents retire to their bedroom… WHERE THEY ROLL A BIG FAT DOOBIE AND TOKE AWAY. I was shocked! Apparently in 1982, it was totally acceptable to show this June and Ward Cleaver-like Mom and Dad rolling J’s and giggling while discussing real estate. It wasn’t even a major plot point. They weren’t shown doing drugs to illustrate anything, it wasn’t essential to the action. In fact, it isn’t discussed at all, and the scene ends with the scared son climbing in to bed with them, as the mom hastily distinguishes her joint on the bedside table.  Can you believe it?
 

The family has a 16 year old daughter who is hardly in the movie at all, but when she is, she is highly sexualized. At 16! That kind of thing would never fly these days. The next morning, she is leaving for school on her bike and there’s a prolonged scene of these grody, 40’s-ish construction dudes that are digging their pool totally harassing her. She does an elaborate fuck off dance in reply. The mom, meanwhile, is watching all of this from the kitchen window… and SMILING! Like, “Aww… look at my girl! Sexual harrassment of a minor is so cute!” Can you imagine that happening now? The daughter would be in counseling and the dudes would be arrested, probably. In another scene, a hotel is mentioned near the highway and the daughter says something like, “Oh I know that place,” and the dad is all, “What?!” and the scene continues on to something else, just dropping the hint that this 16 YEAR OLD girl has been having sex in hotels. Again, neither of these things are plot points. They didn’t have these scenes in the movie because the daughter’s sluttiness was somehow part of the narrative.
 

In another scene, the dad is meeting with some parapsychologists about their ‘disturbances’ and the Doctor, an attractive older woman in one of those 80’s belted blouse dresess asks , “who lives in your home and what are their ages’. He replies, “My wife is 32, my oldest daughter is 16, my son is 8, and my youngest daughter is 5. [RECORD SCREECH] Your wife is 32 and your daughter is SIXTEEN? This was another example of something shocking by todays’s standards that was just dropped in, all casual-like. Later, back at their house, the Doctor and her team are there observing. Some serious shit’s gone down, but all’s quiet, and the son is asleep in in the mom’s arms. She and the belted blouse dress lady (not the famous ‘this house is clean’ woman) are talking about how scary this all is, when the old lady pulls out a flask and the two of them finish it off. This isn’t terribly shocking, but I just think that these days, refined, older woman, doctor-types are rarely portrayed toting flasks, unless the flask toting is meant to reflect upon their character. But again, it was all natural, like doctors pulling flasks from their bags and going to town was no big whoop.

So, if you would like to simultaneously feel old because you’re watching something that is 25 years old that you remember being released, while feeling shocked and dismayed by the current cleansing of society, I recommend watching Poltergeist. It is seasonal, after all. It’s also fun just too see all the 80’s toys and products and whatnot in the background. SB recognized some Star Wars stuff (shamelessly prevalent, throughout, Mr. Spielberg), and there was even a Speak n Spell.  Good times.

Be ye warned

February 5, 2007 | Everybody's got one

I come to you today with a cautionary tale. Don’t let this happen to you.

A couple of nights ago, some friends and I had dinner and drinks at the new Paddy Coyne’s Irish Pub downtown. (This is not the cautionay part. It was great!) We enjoyed fish and chips, beers, and good conversations before heading up the hill to the Rialto to see Dar Williams in concert. (This is not the cautionary part, either. She put on an excellent show.)

About halfway through the concert, the friend sitting next to me rummaged around in her bag and produced what looked like a perfectly harmless Altoids tin in the darkness of the theater, and kindly offered it to me. My mouth was tasting a little stale at this point in the evening, so I eagerly selected one, anticipating the cleansing Altoid mintiness.

Moments later I was spitting furiously and wiping my tongue on my sleeve. It was a BLACK LICORICE flavored Altoid.

GROSS.

I realize there are twisted people out there that enjoy the flavor of the devil’s armpits, but if you, like me, find the taste of black licorice about as appetizing as licking an ashtray, BEWARE OF THE ALTOID OFFERED IN THE DARK.

A decree.

December 7, 2006 | Everybody's got one

If it takes more then three adjectives to order your coffee, you are LAME.

This morning, I ordered my Double (1) Tall (2) Latte, and moved along down the counter. The woman behind me ordered a:

Grande (1) 2% (2) Sugar Free Vanilla (3) No Foam (4) Extra Hot (5) Latte.  

The poor cashier then repeated this to the barrista who then repeated it back to her, meaning I heard all 15 adjectives it took to make her cup. of. coffee. COFFEE!

Woman. You are lame. Everyone thinks so.

That is all.