12.27.05

101 in 1001: 094 win at least $10 with a lottery ticket [completed 12.25.05]
if our holiday festivities were a film, they'd be a lifetime original movie directed by john woo. while the ruckus will probably translate into four-figure shrink bills years down the line, it created a luck vacuum that i was happy to exploit in order to knock silly things off of my list. joe realized (with remarkable foresight) that he would need martinis to shepherd him through the day, so we made an 11 am post-gift-opening trip to the local small-town liquor store (which, bless northern californian agricultural communities, was open). in addition to novelty spirits sold in bottles shaped like tommy guns (vodka), pistols (tequila), and rifles (ditto), the store had a $3 ticket that won me exactly $10. net gain: minimal. disproportionate sense of accomplishment: priceless. compensatory christmas miracles continued the next day when i managed to

101 in 1001: 019 leave a casino with more money than i had when i entered [completed 12.26.05]
woodland has more than its share of faults, but lack of proximity to a cheesy big-ass casino is not one of them. though my august attempt to walk out with a profit ended in tears (and the collective loss of $60), holiday luck held, and i hit an early 'jackpot' that earned about $50. i will not talk about the fact that having the balls to wager more than 45 cents might have resulted in substantial gains, nor will i discuss the extreme concentration of disabled seniors at neighboring slot machines. i will simply say that my winnings came to $43.90, and that i'll refrain from including list items that indulge my fascination with chance in the future.

12.23.05ii

and in happier news, we were finally compelled to settle on a wedding date. previous calculations were moot for the ceremony site, as an overseas studies conclave and a shakespeare conference knocked out most of july and august. pushing into september would have run into michaelmas term at oxford, and stepping back into the summer would leave me no time to plan; we'll be getting married, then, on

sunday 4 (august 20)
- warsaw pact troops invaded czechoslovakia
- trotsky was assassinated in mexico
- the stones' "satisfaction" topped american charts
- benjamin harrison, h.p. lovecraft, don king, and robert plant were born
- three popes (john xiv, pius vii, pius x) died
- national radio day

what is it with the popes, man?

12.21.05 / 12.23.05

transit strike: cluster fuck.

since i've returned to the land of free computing, i can expand on that a bit. from where i'm sitting, the strike was awful for everyone (everyone other than ed koch, that is, whose re-aired 1980 marches across the brooklyn bridge got nearly as much play as union president roger toussaint did). i sympathized with the workers: it did seem wrong that the MTA was crowing about its billion-dollar surplus just as it was asking its employees to retire 7 years later, contribute to health care, and forgo meaty raises (though i would note that most transit workers already make more and have better benefit packages than i do). that said, the MTA's final offer around midnight on monday was decent; when the (unevenly supported) strike decision was announced at 3 am, toussaint himself noted that it had more to do with management's perceived lack of respect for the union than with the offer itself. he looked like a pissy child, and he behaved like one.

12.13.05

martin (++1/2). unquestionably the best-received dvd i've ever nominated for rental;* george romero's vampire movie got the nod from george, dave, and joe (the horror-hater). the title character is a foppy drifter (like anne rice's louis and lestat, but much less annoying) who wanders around during the day, brings meat to lonely housewives, and delivers most of his lines over the phone to a local radio deejay. romero isn't famous for subtlety in the context of his zombie** flicks, but he's crazy for it here; one could argue that martin (the fop) isn't a vampire at all, given that he trucks around during the day, is indifferent to religious paraphernalia, and was born into his condition, whatever it is. martin (the flick) is a pleasant hybrid of moog-drenched social commentary (a la the dead franchise) and revisionist vamp history (a la nadja and the hunger) and should be remade immediately.

*this will hold until my sister and her boyfriend arrive this weekend, at which point i'll brandish the gingerdead man (about a serial killer [gary busey] who becomes a cookie) and save christmas.

**speaking of zombies, urban dead ("a massively multi-player web-based zombie apocalypse") has been a source of great amusement in the down time since our most recent issue of the magazine shipped. down time remaining after wedding business and obsessive-compulsive holiday decorating, that is.

12.09.05

woke up to a positively outstanding snowstorm this morning - hearty, nickel-sized flakes, our pooptastic fire escape dignified with drifts. quicker than you could belt out "snow day" to the tune of "slow ride," it had turned to sleet - but hey, what a way to get the party started.





on the wedding front, we're thisclose to settling on an official date: the folks at the reception venue have finally forwarded me an estimate for our shindig, and everything looks lovely and deposit-worthy. this is good, as i was beginning to feel that making deals with british people would always involve a three-week dance of pleasantries / hints / veiled threats. it's diverting the first few times around, but i'm trying to save my bridezilla moments for other negotiations. someone has to have the energy to throw cars around when the flower market doesn't have any fritillaria. or, you know, if king ghidora shows up.

12.06.05

101 in 1001: 005 sell handmade (by me) goods at a craft show [completed 12.03.05]
at long last, my bean-filled felt fish have reached plush rush and the consumers of ohio. as they are now part of the online store (as bekko, kawarimomo [sic] and kohaku) and available to consumers of The Internets, it might be time to conclude that i went a little overboard with their asking prices (since they didn't sell at the holiday fair). that said, i worked my ass off on those fish. you hear me, Internets? fork it over!

on things that are full of beans, i threw together an amusing recipe the other night.

wily chipotle chili

- 1/2 white onion, diced
- 4 cloves garlic, minced
- 2-3 tbsp olive oil
- 1 green bell pepper, diced
- 1 can corn (drained)
- 1 package smart deli taco/burrito 'meat'
- 1/2 (small) can chipotle peppers in adobo sauce (mince before use)
- 2 cans kidney beans (drained)
- 1 (8 oz) can tomato sauce (spicy if possible)
- 1 (6 oz) can tomato paste
- 1 (14 oz) can vegetable broth
- 2 tsp paprika
- 1 cup water

saute garlic and onion in olive oil until soft; add bell pepper, corn, 'meat' (crumble as you go), and chipotle/adobo; cook while stirring for an additional 3-4 minutes. add remaining ingredients, bring to boil, and simmer uncovered, stirring occasionally to avoid nasty-ass pot stickage, until sauce thickens (35-45 min). serve over white rice; garnish with chopped scallions, sour cream, grated cheese, &c.

this one gets the joe seal of approval, surprisingly. the key is clearly the chipotle in adobo, although it consistently gives both of us weird dreams. the faux flesh is also surprisingly good; you can't really taste it by itself, but it adds a nice texture and a hint of spice.

in other food news, i've just acquired apocalypse chow!, a cookbook with tips for "emergency cooking for hurricanes, blackouts, bachelors, and other disasters." in addition to recipes for rum chili, pasta salads with ramen bases, and so on, it has a "psychological tools" section with foo-foo napkin folding instructions and ways to make merry when you're trapped in your apartment. i'm a little angry that i didn't write it.

11.30.05

the brits have spoken! after a month of courtship, i've gotten their permission to have our wedding in oxford. no more nightmares about defaulting to an elks lodge in sacramento. i like to think i have little in common with the disturbed brides-to-be that i keep reading about (emotionally engaged, i'm looking at you), but i admit that i expect spectacular disasters at every turn. it would be too easy to actually pull off the sort of wedding i've been dreaming about since (cough) preschool.

so said brits gave us three weekends to consider. we pared those down to three sundays, given the limited availability of our ideal reception venue and the pleasant thought of having a rehearsal dinner on saturday night. i'm too cheap to pay an astrologer to tell me which sunday is the luckiest;* considering other kinds of significance, though, has been fascinating. themes are definitely emerging.

sunday 1
- pope clement xi, slash, monica lewinsky, haile selassie, and daniel radcliffe (harry potter) were born
- saint birgitta, ulysses s. grant, and montgomery clift died
- egypt and libya celebrate revolution day
- "gorgeous grandma" day

sunday 2
- "in god we trust" became the national motto
- jimmy hoffa disappeared
- emily bronte, arnold schwarzenegger, alton brown, and neville longbottom (harry potter) were born

sunday 3
- the first execution by electric chair was performed
- the atomic bomb was dropped on hiroshima
- prince released purple rain**
- tennyson, andy warhol, elliot smith, and ginger spice were born
- four popes (sixtus ii, hormisdas, callixtus iii, and paul vi) and rick james died

sunday 3 is certainly the flashiest, but it's awfully violent (and questionable for a few of our guests); bad day for popes. sunday 1 is better for popes, but we're not inviting any of them anyway. sunday 2 is the early frontrunner.

if any of the three are sending you vibes (or making your schedule hurt), speak now or forever hold your peace...

*i'm also afraid of learning that the day we end up leaning toward is cosmically horrible.

**hell yeah.

11.28.05

happy monday-after-turkey-(or-tofurky-if-you-swing-that-way)-day. in our neck of the woods, the holiday weekend left us feeling the need for another holiday weekend, and soon. this could be because we got around to watching twin peaks: fire walk with me last night; the cumulative effects of david lynch being david lynch and the lamentable quality of the dvd (which skipped and dropped two of every twenty minutes, almost always during a dream sequence and - worse - during the david bowie cameo) made me desperate for a nap.* no love for the pumpkin pie lady this year, though i thought i outdid myself with hand-cut cinnamon-and-dough leaves:





those pie-haters can sod off. more for us.

*synchronicity! as vincent canby put it in the new york times, "[fire walk's] 134 minutes induce a state of simulated brain death, an effect as easily attained in half the time by staring at the blinking lights on a Christmas tree."

11.16.05

on why i will never be mistaken for audrey hepburn, chapter 23: instead of ritualistically licking the window at tiffany's, i pause each night on the way home from work to stare at a giant red crushed velvet iguana.

he lives in the window at duane reade on broadway, and i assume he's part of their yearly deluge of huge, cheap stuffed holiday gift animals, not unlike the chenille chicken i bought for paul a few years ago (though that was for easter and from safeway in san francisco). per joe, i am not allowed to purchase the iguana because our apartment is already full of crap (also because he, the iguana, is ugly). in spite of this, i have named him yul and written a song (to the tune of stephen malkmus's "jo jo's jacket") about how much i love him.

so much for avoiding complicated and boring.

mischa barton quote of the day:

From the Chateau Marmont ladies' room, The OC's Mischa "No Blood for Oil Heirs" Barton spoke of her newfound appreciation for Jacob. "He looks like, you know, that guy in Jarhead, and he could totally write my autobiography for me," monotoned the starlet.

"I've heard he has a girlfriend, but could she stick her arm up a gumball machine and score him free candy? Whatever, hold my hair back."

11.15.05

in a series of events too complicated and boring to relate, i acquired a nasty, nasty tube of jones soda's turkey & gravy lip balm. i thought of introducing said balm into the pot at our poker game on friday night, but i was 1) threatened with bodily harm and 2) had wicked beginner's luck and narrowly avoided winning it myself. then i realized i should send it to mischa barton.

mischa barton quote of the day:

The OC star Mischa Barton has hit out at critics who claim she is too young to write an autobiography, insisting her stories are fascinating.

The 19-year-old actress has already spent 10 years in the movie industry and promises her tales from the sets of blockbusters The Sixth Sense and Notting Hill will make brilliant reading.

She storms, "I was starring opposite Julia Roberts at the age of 12, that's already a big enough story."

(monstersandcritics.com, 11.13.05)

11.09.05

the wedding machine has begun eating money and crapping data; per the advice of umpteen online bridal guides, i purchased my Binder* ("[b]esides your future spouse...the closest thing to a best friend you'll have during your engagement period") and have been stuffing it with obscure british marriage law printouts and (more importantly) ripped-out magazine spreads. joe is hugely skeptical of the magazines' utility, which is understandable - if one drops a zero from the dress prices and broadens the palette a bit, one usually ends up with tacky promwear - but i've found occasional inspiration. at the very least, i'm learning from others' mistakes.

after an unconscionable hiatus, the mischa barton quote of the day:

Take Mischa Barton, who tells the U.K.'s Harpers & Queen that her former publicist encouraged her to sleep with Leonardo DiCaprio. The actress says that at a party, her flack Craig Schneider pointed out the Titanic actor and said, "For the sake of your career, go and sleep with that man." ...[T]he 19-year-old O.C. actress' reaction: "Isn't Leo, like, 30, or something?"

(metro, 11.11.05)

*unsurprisingly, most actual Wedding Binders are quite luxe and quite expensive; mine is large, plastic, and $8.99 at staples. i'm resisting the urge to cover it with stickers, as its secondary purpose is to trick vendors into thinking that i know my shit and shouldn't be overcharged for things like flowers and booze.

11.03.05

as wonkette notes, just about everyone has heard of scooter libby's bear porn novel (the apprentice) at this point. the new shocker is that it wasn't news years ago, since an aggressive initial ad campaign in the washington post and elsewhere made libby's rank in the bush administration one of the novel's selling points. even old news can be hot news, though: today alone, copies over at amazon have jumped from $42 (at about noon) to at least $69 (as of right now). i haven't seen pricing nonsense like that since the stanford bookstore spit on my old textbooks. speaking of amazon, its "surprise me!" feature (which links to a random page in books with the "search inside" tag) got me thinking. in the tradition of nanowrimo, then, i propose rebepocoda: Republican Bear Porn Collage Day. participation is far less taxing than writing a novel in a month would be: simply share a bit of your "surprise me!" experience with the apprentice. my text, as it happens, included an age-old question:

"Is there feeling?" a bucktoothed man asked. "At least on the first night, even after a bear?"