Philly? Really?

Who'd have thought it.

American Cities That Best Fit You::

65% Philadelphia

60% Chicago

60% Honolulu

60% San Francisco

55% New York City

Which American Cities Best Fit You?

Capri or not capri: that is the question.

I am to capri pants as Heather from Go Fug Yourself is to leggings. (You must read Heather's post to comprehend the analogy.)

As long as I can remember, I've been vehemently anti-capri. I've always thought they tend to make people look shorter and wider than they really are, which isn't a good thing unless you are an seven feet tall and three inches wide. An anorexic giraffe would look stunning in capris. I made some exceptions to the capri embargo, allowing that perhaps if one could travel back in time to the 1950's and be Audrey Hepburn, capris would be permitted. When capris came back into fashion recently, I relaxed my anti-capri position slightly, supposing that a certain type of dame could carry them off with a jaunty, carefree "these suit my active lifestyle" flair, but they were still a wholly unflattering sort of pant.

Then the other day I found these.

In need of some summer attire, I spotted them at the store and found myself drawn in by the idea of shorts that would conceal more of my thighs than currently "fashionable" ass-crease-revealing hot pants passing themselves off as shorts. After trying them on I was forced to conclude that they did not, in fact, make me look as legless as a Goomba. I could almost picture them, coupled with the right pair of heeled sandals, giving my legs a sort of willowy look last seen when I was a leotarded second grader shaking my caboose to Iko Iko in the Acacia Elementary talent show. I was flabbergasted. I bought them.

I will concede that they are technically "bermuda shorts." However, reviewing their length I'm alarmed by how close they are to being part of the homely capri family. It's a difference of mere inches. My recently acquired shorts could well be the surprisingly hot product of a drunken, dimly lit tryst between a normal pair of shorts and a pair of capri pants.

Do you see why I'm concerned, people? They are still related to capri pants. I bought something that's quite close to something I abhor and disdain. It's like I don't even know myself anymore. Next I'll start liking reggae music and condiments and Armand Assante. What will become of me?

We're a little bit country

Last Sunday Josh and I went to a Brad Paisley concert. I don't go to concerts all that often; most of the ones I've been to have been surprisingly loud, or overpopulated with drunk people, or just kind of disappointing.

One of the things you have to tell people when introducing yourself at my work is your first and last concert. Most people my age have something divinely shameful like New Kids on the Block or Tiffany. My first concert was nothing that would induce a giggle fit; it was either Loreena McKennitt with my mom and Phil or Fiona Apple with my mom and sister in tenth grade. Since then I've seen Dave Matthews Band twice (once at the Gorge in Washington after at 14-hour overnight drive...man was I tired!), the Dixie Chicks, Dido, John Mayer, Madonna, and No Doubt.

I bought the tickets for Josh as a surprise...before finding out he doesn't really like concerts (great!). Still, he made the surpreme sacrifice and agreed to give this a shot. Despite being two atypical concert attendees, we ended up having a pretty good time. Josh Turner and Sara Evans were both opening for Brad. My Josh likes the performer Josh - he has a very deep voice and a very polite Southern boy way about him. Sara Evans is a real sweetheart, seems very comfortable on stage and can really belt it out. I was very pleased that she played one of my favorite songs of hers, "I Keep Looking." It was Mother's Day, so her kids came up on stage briefly and she joked around with them a bit. Cute. :)

After the openers, and after the supremely drunk, stoned, dancing middle-aged couple in the box next to us departed, Brad Paisley took the stage. Let's be clear: Brad Paisley is a good lookin' man. Those are some nice arms on him. Plus, as an added bonus, he can play guitar, write music, and sing like nobody's business. He seems like a really good-hearted guy with a great sense of humor who loves what he does. I'd like to hang out with him and his wife (actress Kimberly Williams-Paisley); they seem like a fun, talented, goofy couple. But since I can't hang out with them, I just watched Brad perform. And let me say, that was a good time as well. The sound was excellent, and not too loud (can anyone say "Madonna"?). Brad did a few funny bits, and tore it up on the guitar. He didn't play my favorite song of his ("Come On Over Tonight"), but he did play Josh's ("I'm Gonna Miss Her") as an encore.

Overall, we had a pretty damn good time. It was a good start to the summer concert season, and didn't seem too painful for Josh. ;) Whew! Next time I'll do a little more research before buying him presents.

Somebody's got a case of the Mondays

Five random thoughts that are crossing through my mind today:

1 - I am wearing a green blazer, pink sweater, white "un mouton" t-shirt, and jean skirt. All the green-and-pink-ness combined with the layering is making me feel very Season One Veronica Mars. If only there were a crime I could solve, a vice principal I could smart-mouth, or a headlight-smashing bad boy I could rehabilitate!

2 - The bathroom in my building at work smells like Smarties. This is kind of disturbing, but better than it smelling like a number of other things.

3 - The faucet in the bathroom, which has no hot/cold controls, is set at a scaldingly hot temperature. (Don't worry - I still wash my hands. I usually just stand there in pain for a moment afterward as I dry them.) I am not the kind of person who gives facilities feedback about this sort of thing, but there is a serious ouch factor here.

4 - I haven't been posting much lately. This is because my TV blog is sapping many of my creative juices. If I had more of them, I'd write something as monstrously entertaining as this in-depth look at Cookie Monster's damaged psyche. Instead, I'll just continue to analyze VM and write recaps till my opposable thumbs fall off.

5 - I'm taking my sweet time getting through My Kind of Place. Once I get through it, though, there's plenty on my waiting list. Phil was nice enough to send me two books for read and review. In the category of previous R&R books from Phil, I loved Carter Beats the Devil -- and its cover art -- so very much. I've recommended it to others with positive results as well. However, I never did manage to get into the R&R'd suggestion Flashman, but that may be due to my disinterest in carrying around a book that has boobs on the cover. Dirty! ;)

Because calling it "The Big Hard" would be too dirty

Guess where Josh and I are headed in a few weeks? New Orleans, baby! The Big Easy! Hence the ridiculous title of this post.

Josh had to go for a few days for work, and I decided to tag along. We're going a couple days early (June 21) so we can soak up some local flavor before he has to work a few shifts for work. It'll probably be hot and busy, but I'm willing to tolerate temperatures and crowds to see the place.

I know a bunch of you have been to New Orleans (and been proposed to in New Orleans!), so I'd love to suggestions about where to go and what to do. It's my first visit, so I'm starting from scratch! I've already been lucky enough to get Mom's recommendations for living it up in NOLA (Mom=awesome), but am always happy to hear others' advice about best places to eat, shop, people-watch, and stroll romantically.

I'm excited!

Books = bliss

What's on my bookshelf these days? Well, a lot of things. What's on my nightstand, rather? I'm just picking up after a bit of a slump. I finished Brief Interviews with Hideous Men, which was eccentric and manic and luminous and intricate and a head-scratcher at times. I have no idea how the lovely John Krasinski will ever manage to adapt it into something filmworthy. (Maybe a series of vignettes like Nine Lives?)

Once I finished that, I took my time getting through Christopher Buckley's No Way To Treat A First Lady, which surprisingly dragged for me after I'd devoured another book of his, Thank You For Smoking. I think it was because I didn't get behind the protagonist in First Lady the same way I had embraced Nick Naylor from TYFS. At any rate, I finally finished it yesterday.

Then I took a few hours to speed through Alamo House, which I'd picked up at Book People in Austin. It was a quirky little read, breezy and fun. A good book to read quickly in order to get back on the book horse.

Now I'm looking forward to starting My Kind of Place, a book of travel stories by Susan Orlean (The Orchid Thief). I've just read the introduction, and it looks like something I'll really enjoy. I'm a big travel reader (if you can't do it yourself, why not transport yourself somewhere else mentally?) and I appreciate Orlean's perspective on the value of the type of writing she does.

At a travel writing conference just after 9/11, she said: "At the most elemental level, the world's troubles are the result of people turning inward and turning away from whatever and whoever is different and unfamiliar. If a writer can make even one reader feel more open to someone or someplace new, I think he or she has accomplished something well worth doing." That's an insight I wouldn't have thought of, but that I completely agree with. I liked this line as well: "At a time when the world feels chaotic and frightening, writers who go out to see it and describe it seem more important, not less." It just resonates with me.

On the non-fiction front, I'm also absolutely digging The New Biographical Dictionary of Film, which I got for my birthday. (Thanks, Veltmans!) It is both informative and colorful, offering the standard dry facts one would expect along with opinionated, eccentric descriptions that feel like they're being delivered by one who's seen (and done) it all in Hollywood. And so articulate!

Observe this from the entry on Michelle Pfeiffer: For a few years (around 1990), she was beautiful, mysterious, and potent. People guessed she could do anything -- but then anything turned into so many forlorn choices. She still carries the rather stunned, obedient air of an ex-checkout girl at the El Toro Vons supermarket, as well as the luster of an Orange County beauty pageant winner.

Or this, from Harvey Keitel's entry: There are few American actors whose careers are so intriguing--or so touching. Imagine a film about Harvey Keitel, the actor so good, so persistent, yet so regularly denied at the highest table; ceaseless in his fury, his bitterness, forever hurtling forwarding in that cold, determined aura that is a mix of menace and resentment. What a role! And probably De Niro would get it."

So much fun. Phil, this is a book for you.

Epiphany!

I've just discovered that peanut butter + dried figs = crazy delicious.


What, you thought I was going to talk about something serious?