You should sue her. Oh yeah, on what grounds, Kara? On the grounds of shut up!!!

Oof. Kind of been eating like a pregnant banshee lately. Weird food, and at weird times. Like yesterday at five I had a couple of dinner rolls and cheese sticks, and then at about seven-thirty I had jojo potatos, more rolls, taco dip, and some French silk pie. Yeah. And I have no motivation to do anything to counteract that. Because frankly I think that transversing the East Side every day while lugging twenty-five extra pounds on my back is quite enough, thank you very much. *sniff*

Daddy's birthday will be over soon, though, and all the food will disappear. Which is actually a little bit sad.

Speaking of which, happy birthday to Daddy!!! Iwas a teensy bit shocked this year that he did not demand that all of January be devoted to him, as per usual.

Hey. Gave me and excuse to come home early today. Whee!!!

So not a whole lot going on. Finished North and South, which is lovely except it ends differently from the movie which sucks because the end of the movie was absolutley fantastic, but still. Love a good Victorian love story.

Also finished the DVD of Gideon's Daughter, which I love because clearly Bill Nighy=Teh Awesomness. That aside, it was pretty good and I was very emotional at the end. Also, we heart Emily Blunt, my new Favorite British Ingenue Ever.

Up next, The Illusionist. No clue what it's about. Someting magic? Maybe. Not sure. But I want to watch it. Except Jessica Biel bugs the freaking hell out of me.

Just a couple of final thoughts: I really, really hate that Hillary Clinton is being all I'm-every-woman now, because the one thing that made her unelectable is the fact that she's a cold bitch, and now she's not and it bothers me greatly. Grrr. Where's the black guy when you need him. Black guy trumps woman in terms of persecution.

Also, a list of Jack Bauer sayings to brighten your day. Be forewarned that the language is kind of bad, so The Artist Formerly Known As The Boy probably shouldn't click on it. My favorite? When Kim Bauer lost her virginity, Jack Bauer found it and put it back.

That's all folks...

GAH!!!!!!!!!

Little Miss Sunshine won!!!!!!!! It actually won!!! Over Dreamgirls!!!!! I'm thrilled!!!!!!!!

Also, HELEN MIRREN!!!!!!!!!! LOVE HER!!!! And The Office, American Ferrera, Jeremy Irons, and Chandra Wilson. (How much did we love the "And the other one in rehab"??? I think this might become a defining quote of my generation. Okay. That may be going a little far. But I love it.)

But LITTLE MISS SUNSHINE!!!!!!!!!! This makes up for them passing over Steve Carell and Abigail Breslin for individual awards!!!

I'm so happy.

Also, Baileys= liquid joy.

I'll beat your ass, bitch!!!

Familied out. Yes. It can be a verb.

Sooo, rushed home from work because I had to wash the Ponytail of Wealth and Prosperity (which, btw, is broken. Five bucks in eight hours. Boo.) and now I clearly have to be watching the red carpet stuff for the SAG awards. Except it's still too early for the good people to show up---that guy with three names from Little Children is the biggest star they've managed to get. Kevin Nealon just pounded a class of champagne. Teehee.

Gotta love the SAG awards.

The Empress and I have devised an awards show drinking game---everytime they show someone who has played a Queen Elizabeth you have to do a shot. Which was met with countless "WHAT NO YOU DO NOT DO SHOTS HOW IRRESPONSIBLE" by my parents, which kind of made me laugh because a.) we were joking and b.) how sad it is that my parents think that they have such little authority over us? The Empress is still a minor, and I have no liquor of my own. They could kind of say that "We completely approve of doing shots but you have to use your own liqour" and I'd kind of have to say "Oh. Okay." *sigh* They get so worked up about it.

I really can't wait until somebody gets drunk.



Watched Signs with mia familia last night, and have realized that a.) Joaquin Phoenix is wicked sexy, b.) M. Night Shyamalan reuses ALL of his actors, and c.) apparently I can only handle first-tier Shyamalan like The Village where everything is normal at the end and it's 2004 and they're all safe- well except for Adrian Brody. Because I was nearly wetting myself halfway through.

I thought perhaps it would be a good idea to watch The Sixth Sense and join the rest of the western hemisphere. Yeah. Not any more.

Kind of disappointed at the end, though, because there was no twist. This is why alien movies bug me so much, because there is no way for it to end well. You have two scenarios- world domination or they're allergic to the water or something. There's no satisfation.

(GAH!!!!!!!!! PAM!!!!!!!!! I LOVE YOU SO MUCH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I WANT YOU TO LEAVE YOUR HUSBAND AND MARRY JOHN KRASINSKI!!!!!!!!!! What? Is my crazy showing?)

Also love Abigail Breslin. She is quite possibly cuter than Dakota Fanning.

(GAH!!!!!!!!!!! JIM!!!!!!!! I LOVE YOU SO MUCH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I WANT YOU TO LEAVE WHOMEVER YOU'RE WITH AND MARRY JENNA FISCHER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Crap. It's showing again.)

Had to work today. *booing* Imladris just got home and said she was considerinbg being a prostitute because at least she could lie down. *snickers*

Bought Good Will Hunting during my break because I wasn't terribly hungry. I am ordering the Empress to watch it so that I can discuss it with her RIGHT NOW. Because I love it and need to talk about it but I don't know anyone who's seen it. GAH!!!

Finished reading Notes on a Scandal, and I would have seen it already if Colleen hadn't have abandoned me but that's not the point. Anyhoodles, it was really good. Fantastic. Don't be put off of reading it because of the icky teenage/old woman sex because it's really not about that. I'm worried about becoming Judi Dench. It scared me.

Also, at one point Sheba remarks that getting married and having children allowed her to continue with her life while having no ambition, because all she had to do was clean and take care of the kids. And I realized that that was totally what I want out of life. A little sad, really.

Well, good people are showing up, so I'm gonna go. Maybe do a little live-blogging later.

Hatehatehatehatehate

Hate people, hate heeled boots, hate raspberry syrup, and I really, really hate having to spend forty bucks on a style guide. Grrr.

Off to go spend more time with the family. *is dead from the "happiness"*

*deep breaths* This icon makes me feel better.

What-what do you mean? Oh. Oh. Ew.

Don't have time for a real TV post on the appropriate blog, but here's a little rundown of what I've watched lately and my completely not-thought-out and sometimes quite visceral reactions to them.

GAH!!! I hate myself for LOVING last night's episode of Grey's Anatomy SO FREAKIN' MUCH. Hatehatehatehatehate. *slaps self senseless*

But really, George the sex machine and an Amish girl with cervical cancer? You can't beat that. Except maybe with polygamists on Numb3rs. It's a tough call, really.

OMG WHAT GEORGE PROPOSES WHAT NO HOW WHAT DOES SHE SAY STOP THE DAMN VOICEOVER I NEED ANSWERS CANNOT WAIT A WEEK GAH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


24- ZOMG, am I the only one who was kind of shocked and awed as thought my REAL country had been hit by a nuke? Because I totally kind of felt like that. Also, I'd just like to say that that any woman who has to make a choice between two men and chooses the short balding guy over Keifer Sutherland should be shot. And then when you realize that not only did she choose short balding guy over Keifer Sutherland, but over Guy Saving The World Who Looks Like Keifer Sutherland, well, then, she should be tortured and then shot.


Meanwhile, over on CSI, I was totally prepared to hate Kepplar because Grissom=Teh Crime-Fighting Awesomeness, but I kind of don't. In fact, I kind of think he's awesome. And I'm kind of shipping him and Catherine. Teensy bit.


FINALLY, new Studio 60!!! I was dying over here.


New Psych tonight---whee!!!

Now that we have sumarized the fake world, my real world is startlingly boring. Have to work on Sunday even though I specifically asked off, which means that I will need to somehow survive on about three cumulative hours of sleep until next Saturday. *gasping sob* But at least I'll be home to watch the SAG awards.

First week of classes over, and things went pretty well.

Logic is either insanely easy or deceptively easy---I've yet to figure out which. Because every single person I talked to said this was the worst course ever and you should avoid it like the plague and if you do take it you kind of have to quit your job and hole up in a room with your notes for five months, and I'm getting none of that. It's kind of like, well, yeah, if the premises don't match up then obviously the conclusion is going to be invalid. Duh. So not sure. Maybe the wanting to kill yourself comes later.

Going out to dinner with the whole Fam Damnley this evening, and will continue my quest to find something on a German menu that isn't 1.)meat, 2.)fried, or 3.)fried meat.

Ciao bella.

Random acts of a spy, a freakishly early class, and Nancy Pelosi.

All random, all the time here today, folks.

Borrowed the second season of Alias from the Lovely Mary's lovely consort, Nick, and am working my way through it. Season one was kind of all

Sydney: OMG YOU KILLED MY BOYFRIEND NOW I WILL TURN ON YOU HAHAHAHA OMG MOMMY WHAT HOW???
SpyDaddy: Oh. We didn't tell you she was an enemy agent? Damn. Meant to.

Season two so far is pretty much all

Sydney: My mommy left me. *tear*
Vaughn: But not before she killed my daddy. *manly tear*
SpyDaddy: You're the people responsible for the CIA? *headdesk*

I heart Alias.

Sooo, first week of Higher Education: Semester Deux almost over---whee!!!

Tomorrow I'm get to leave at eleven---bigger whee!!!

This up and dressed and on a bus at quarter after seven thing is really starting to bother me, though. Especially since I have visions of myself (in my head, my eyes don't actually work before eight o'clock) all pulled together with a chic ponytail and perfectly shadowed eyes or something, and then I catch a glimpse of myself and see that the chic ponytail is kind of falling apart, my eyes are too sunken to notice any shadow that may have hit it that morning (what? I'm putting it on at six thirty. We're lucky if it doesn't end up on my cheek.), and no amount of concealor in the world can hide the circles under my eyes. *sigh*

Everything's going really well. Except for getting to art history late because I have to run three blocks in ten minutes and then end up having to sit on the floor while my leg goes numb. *sigh*

Finally, to wrap up the randomness, I give you the Cheney/Pelosi blink-off, courtesy of David Letterman. Teehee.

An Open Letter to the Ladies of The View.

Ladies, I love you. Watch all the time. You have my undying devotion. I tape you. I'm thinking of being you for Halloween. *smooches*

But you and your completely untenable arguments concerning gay marriage and the Clinton impeachment are really, really, really starting to bug me.

First, the Clinton impeachment. Now, I realize that 1998 was, like, nine whole years ago, but if I can remember it (I was ten), I think you probably can. In fact, Barbara, I'm pretty sure that you covered it for ABC. Anyway, not the issue.

The issue arose this morning when Rosie called for the impeachment of President Bush (I'm not entirely sure why), and when Elisabeth said that it was perhaps dangerous to start impeaching the President in the middle of a war, Rosie shot back that it was okay to impeach a President for having sex (?)

Rosie's obviously faulty logic aside (what? How did we get on Clinton? *snickers* No pun intended.), you then proceded to have a screaming match about it.

No. No. You have to know that Clinton was not impeached because of some lofty right-wing conspiracy to crack down on extra-marital sex, or because he "lied to the American people" or something stupid like that (do we really care? Honestly?), but rather because he freakin' COMMITTED PERJURY. (Perhaps you've heard of it. One of the biggies. Federal law.) The fact that he perjured himself by saying "No, she wasn't under there. Why? What have you heard?" has absolutely nothing to do with it. Gah.

So, in conclusion, perjury=bad; sex with Clinton=just icky, not illegal.

Second issue: please please please stop whining about how homosexual couples are being denied their Constitutional rights.

Also, completely false. Now, I'm assuming they're referring to marriage or civil unions, as you can sleep with whomever you want however you want, and you will not be denied due process. Or the right to a speedy trial. Or the right to form a militia. Or the right to refuse to quarter soldiers in your house during wartime. All those, along with the rest of them enumerated in THE CONSTITUTION- hence the term "Constitutional rights", are still available for all citizens of the United States regardless of creed, color, or Gucci shoes.

And this really bugs me, because NO ONE has a Constitutional right to be married---to ANYONE. I'm a woman, and I like men. I don't have the Constitutional right to get married to one. A friend of mine's brother is obviously a man and likes other men. He doesn't have the Constitutional right to get married to one. I'm sure Rosie and Kelly are deleriously happy, but they do not have the Constitutional right to marry each other.

Because it just doesn't exist.

You may be pissed that you don't have the same legal rights, or even the same social ones, but I hereby forbid ANYONE from EVER saying that they have a CONSTITUTIONAL RIGHT to be married EVER AGAIN.

Thank you, and good evening.

Art in the dark.

Just to get you caught up---I'm alone and going to die barren and alone only to be discovered by a neighbor's dogs a couple of days later. Okay. Moving on.

This is gonna be quick, because The Boy wants the computor and he starts to get whiny if I don't give in, but Oscar noms were released this morning while I was tragically on a bus and not glued to the television as I would have preferred to have been. *tear*

Anyway, generally happy with the results, except my loyalties are kinda divided in the best actress because I adore both Mirren and Streep, but I think Mirren will get it. Which is good. I probably like her the most. And Dreamgirls got left out of best picture in favor of The Little Indie That Could, Little Miss Sunshine---squee!!!

Also, Abigail Breslin was nominated---sweet. She probably won't turn up pregnant in three years like Whalerider.

I was, of course, disappointed to see Johnny missing, but I knew he didn't have a chance. As well as Aaron Eckhart and Matt Damon (yes, I know The Good Shepherd bombed, but he was REALLY good in it!!!), and no, I'm not completely alone in that, there are two of us, thank you very much. *sniff*

Let's all take a moment to grieve the loss of Children of Men's Oscar possibilites. *bows head*


Couple o' Oscar links for you---a handy printable ballot that you can print and mark up, and use for various drinking games , found here, here, here, and here. Wow. There are a lot of people out there with way too much time on their hands.

Hmm. Maybe I should do one this year.

Finally, Jennifer can't cry, Meryl thought she was a bigger bitch to more people, Rinko obviously can't speak English that well, Judi knows she's goin' down, Will just wants to get drunk, and Leo thinks he's very deserving.

You gotta love Oscar. :D


Also had the first class of the rest of my classes today with Mary, who I think should be awarded some spot on the Squishy Court, because I'm really tired of referring to her as "Mary". Boring.

JMC looks ridiculously easy if you can write, history scares me a little, but only because your entire grade rests on a paper and two exams, and art history is, well, it's art history. And I've taken the entire course before and gotten an A, so yeah, I'm not too worried.

The professors are great too---JMC is a documentary-making historian who says her nieces think she's professor McGonagall because she's tall, British, and wears a lot of black. And she showed us a five minute clip of The Daily Show, which means I will love her forever. History woman is your quintessential female prof, but without all the bitterness, and art woman looks younger than me but somehow must not be because she has a doctorate. Unless she was Doogie Howser-bright, she must have been blessed with good genetics.

Sadly, no hot TAs this year. Did, however, see Hot TA himself while walking to history. *swoons*

Kind of school related, but not really, I finished The Boleyn Inheritance on the bus this afternoon, the latest in Phillipa Gregory's Tudor bordering on porn for the historical set, and it was quite good if completely and utterly historically inaccurate. Except that at some point Anne of Cleves, Katherine Howard, and Jane Boleyn did in fact live and were at the court. That's about it.

I do feel sorry for Katherine Howard, though. Not her fault she married a crazy.

Going to go try to evenly heat lasagna that's been frozen in case of Russian domination (impossible), so I'll see y'all later.

A Little Miss Sunshine icon in celebration of their achievment~~~

You've never once called them by their names, preferring to address them as "mister" or "senor".

Oof. Feel bloated. I know you all really wanted to know that. This is what happens when my father makes lasagna and cheesecake that apparently we're saving for when the Russians take over because it wasn't ready last night. What the hell??? How is a cheesecake not ready???

Sooo, here in the Land of No Life At All, my plan to marry a monarch and not continue with this whole quest for higher education didn't exactly pan out, probably because unless a monarch happened to be in the laundry room or my local Blockbuster (unlikely) there was no way I could have possibly met him, as those are kind of the only two places I went. Which is a little bit sad.

Wait, no. I went ice skating once. And spent more time pulling people down onto the ice with me than actually skating. I don't know what you would call that...

Incredibly long digression aside, I returned to classes this morning with Mary, and have decided that if we could combine logic prof's accent with astronomy guy's, well, I guess the rest of him, Monday would be the highlight of my week. Sadly, logic guy looks like Ron Weasley's rat in one of the Harry Potter movies. Three maybe? Or four? Not sure, but he looks like him. Sad, no?

Tomorrow I have the rest of the classes, journalism, art history, regular history, and then back to art history. Somewhere in there I'll eat a granola bar and die.

I kind of really want those shoes. Except I'm pretty sure I'd have to ransom my not-yet-conceived first born to buy them, as the paltry earnings I make at work probably won't cover them. Aww, hell, I can't afford Target. Really. Now that they have those international lines, out of my league.

Speaking of work and so forth, all hail the gainfully employed Empress!!! Who was hired because she brought something to the table that apprently no one else did---an application. She was hired in six minutes this afternoon after doing no more than turning in an application and saying, "Yeah, I can work weeknights." So snaps for her!!!

Meanwhile, why the hell did I have to go through the freakin' Nuremburg trials to get my job making coffee??? It was hardly a CEO position or a think tank---I'm not even selling the books!!! They made me come in for an interview, and then wait a week because they were interviewing fake people (boo---poor form!!!), and I even had somebody to vouch for me!!! What the hell???

Also speaking of work, I get to move to books!!! Sometime in the very near future. I don't care, I'm excited. Whee!!!

Some costume drama madness here today all, as PBS aired the first part of BBC's Jane Eyre last night. Eh. Not my favorite. I mean, it's by the woman who directed Bleak House, but it's really not that good. They changed a lot of the language, and so as a person who loved the book I was slightly disillusioned.

Also, not quite as romantic as the book was--- I mean, Jane Eyre was like the very first bodice-ripper, and that totally didn't come across.

And will somebody PLEASE hire somebody hot to play Rochester! It's really hard to lose a contest on looks when your closest competitors are Cirian Hinds and William Hurt, but somehow this one (Toby Stephens? Do we know him?) manages to do it. Good Lord, y'all. Somebody needs to get on that.

Also, they released the Becoming Jane trailer link. Um. Yeah. I was really looking forward to this, and was ready to pledge my undying devotion to it, and then I realized that I'd seen it like five times before.

Because rather than actually detailing her life and being original, they kind of...just rewrote Pride and Prejudice (or, the Most Popular Book of All Time. African pygmy tribes know the story). In fact, I'm pretty sure they didn't even really rewrite it. I'm pretty sure they just changed the names a little. Oh well, maybe it will be better than it looks.

Well, blog kitties, as I got up at six o'clock this morning and didn't really sit down until six thirty tonight, and I tragically have to be on a bus at 7:17 tomorrow morning, I'm gonna go relax and watch Studio 60. See y'all later.

News you can use: The Jolie-Pitts had cereal for breakfast.

Disclaimer: The title is not mine, I got it from Entertainment Weekly.

Okay, so Golden Globes were two days ago, and I was still in a Red Carpet and Baileys-induced celebrity hangover yesterday so I didn't update.

But the craziness has had sufficient time to sink in now, and clearly there is just too much to say. It was a fantastic night right from Angelina's silent put-down to Ryan Seacrest and- I think- anyone else who dared look her directly in the eyes during the evening. Seriously. Girl scared me. She was having none of that.


Meanwhile, I've realized that while I love all things award shows, including the insipid pre-show interviews, I really, really, really hate the interviewers and want them all to go die in a corner. They are all really, really stupid. They obviously have a set of questions that they ask anyone no matter what gender/history/spouse/project they are affiliated with/hideous dress they happend to be/wearing. So when you ask America Ferrera how she felt about everyone who didn't want her to play the part, and I'm pretty sure no one ever said anything like that, this poses a problem. They only talk to annoying boring people, like I really, really don't need to hear what That Guy Who's On a Show I've Never Heard Of has to say.

And then, if they manage to land someone funny, like Steve Carrell or Rainn Wilson, they aren't smart enough to let them be funny. They don't get the jokes and ask stupid questions, like I'm sure Rainn Wilson has never ever been asked what's up with his name before.


But then, the major event of the pre-show cringe-worthiness was when Seacrest landed Brangelina, and somehow managed to get his entire head up Brad Pitt's ass while receiving a wordless bitch slap from Angelina and ask some stupid questions about Africa all in about a minute and a half before The Brangelina deigned to grace someone else with their presence.


So the actual awards went quite well. Hugh Laurie was funny, as usual, and I was very pleased with almost all the winners. Meryl Streep and Helen Mirren both won---yay!!! Totally didn't see Forest Whitaker taking best actor, but whatever.


Also, Babel and Dreamgirls? What??? Not fun at all. Sheesh.


Speaking of which, went and bought books yesterday. About half of what last semester was, which was fantastic, probably due to the fact that I didn't have two worthless languages with fun little packages of CDs that I'm never going to use. *sigh* Logic looks---well, I'm not sure exactly how it looks because I don't understand it. But that's okay. *deep breaths*

Maybe someone will still love me if I fail out of school and end up living in a dumpster. Or maybe not.

Oooh, the Will and Grace episode with Matt Damon. So funny. Love him. Inadvertantly stalking him, actually, as he has had an amazingly prolific career for being like thirty. He shows up in everything!!! Going to go watch that. Ciao!!!

This here's a covenant with God, bitch.

Yay---Golden Globes tonight---whee!!! So I'm gonna run down the major categories with who I want to win and who actually will win (these very rarely if ever match up---sadly, no one asked me to be on the board of anything handing out awards this year. Whatever.)

But first, I'd just like to say how much I really, really hate everyone who actually *is* on these committees because they get sent piles of DVDs of movies that are either still in theaters or theoretically in theaters but cannot be found anywhere near your house (*cough*Notes on a Scandal*cough*). I saw Children of Men and The Good Shepherd this weekend, but I actually ahd to PAY for them. Gah. I want a pile of movies that I can watch at my convenience. *sigh*

*ahem* With that, I give you the awards...

Best Picture Drama: Babel/The Queen

Sadly, The Queen is looking like it's only taking acting noms this year, even thoughit was a really good film in it's own right. Definately my favorite (well, okay. The only one I saw, but still) of the whole list. I'd give it to Babel, because it's weird and artsy and politically current enough that people will vote for it. I think The Departed is merely a Leo vehicle, and won't hold up on it's own, and nobody saw Bobby. Little Children what with it's hot-people-committing-adultery story would work, but it's not popular or edgy enough.

Best Picture Musical or Comedy: Dreamgirls/The Devil Wears Prada

Okay, I've seen and loved every one of these movies except the one that's going to win. And Borat, but still. Dreamgirls will take it, and maybe even the Oscar, because apparently people love watching people try to sing. Not my kind of thing, but whatever. I'm seeing it this week, so I'll update you on that (I know you're waiting.)

The other three, Little Miss Sunshine, Thank You For Smoking, and The Devil Wears Prada, were all fantastic, and I adored and have each one of them on DVD, but I think The Devil Wears Prada was my favorite. Just because it was so well done and I love Meryl Streep (when she's not shooting off her mouth), and it was so much fun. Thank You For Smoking would have done better if it hadn't have been released almost a year ago and people have forgotten about it already. Little Miss Sunshine would be my second choice. Not that it matters, because Dreamgirls will totally take it.

Best Actor Drama: Leonardo DiCaprio/Will Smith

I haven't seen a single one of these movies, but I know enough to know that Leo's gonna win for The Departed. I want Will Smith to win because he is my Squishy and I love him, but he's not going to. Sad.

They won't give it to Leo for that other one about the diamonds, and Forest Whitaker, while probably doing the best job critically at least, doesn't have the clout to win anything. Also, I didn't even know Peter O'Toole had a movie out.

Best Actor Comedy: Sacha Baron Cohen/Johnny Depp

Oh, Johnny. You don't have a shot, baby doll. But for religious reasons I am forced to root for you against all odds and even pray that you'll be there tonight (*crosses fingers*)

Borat will win. Duh. Again, Aaron Eckhart would have done a whole lot better if they had released this a couple months ago, but they didn't so he probably won't win. I'd love it if he did, though. And Stranger Than Fiction was popular enough with the critics or audiences to give Will Ferrell a chance.

And I've never heard of Kinky Boots.

Best Actress Drama: Helen Mirren/Helen Mirren

WHEE!!! The one time all night I'll probably be right!!! Helen Mirren was fantastic, and will will.

I'm sure Judi Dench did a good job, but The Queen has been out longer and more people have seen it. Maggie Gyllenhaal might have gotten it if Sherrybaby had been released more recently, and Kate Winslet isn't going to get it. Also, I'm not sure why they nominated Penelope Cruz, but they did.

Best Actress Comedy: Meryl Streep/ Meryl Streep

Ooh, another one!!! I think she'll win, because everybody absolutely adored Miranda Priestly. My choice for an upset would be Annette Benning, but Running with Scissors really tanked and she'd have to win it on being a critical darling alone, which is pretty hard to do. Toni Collette was good but not that good, nobody is going to give Beyonce an award over Meryl Freakin' Streep, and is Miss Potter even out yet?!?!?!

Best Supporting Actor: Not a clue/Don't really care

Why is it that I can never get involved in this race??? Last year Clooney was even in it and I couldn't be bothered!!! It wasn't for the movie I liked and he wasn't even hot in Syriana. I just never seem to care about anyone involved in it. I'm a bad moviegoer. Anyway, I'd say Brad Pitt or Jack Nicholson just 'cuz, but Mark Wahlberg could take it too. I don't think Eddie Murphy has a chance, and Ben Affleck just sucked in Hollywoodland. Or rather, that whole movie sucked.

Maybe next year they'll nominate some interesting people.

Best Supporting Actress: Cate Blanchett or Jennifer Hudson/Cate Blanchett or Emily Blunt

I think Cate Blanchett is going to get it, but I'm torn, because I haven't sen Notes on a Scandal and I have seen Devil and I loved her character.

But then all people talk about it how amazing Jennifer Hudson is and she might get it too. I don't think Emily Blunt actually has a chance, but I still like her.

I don't know who the other two are and I can't pronounce their names. *sigh*

Sooo, Children of Men---quite good and disturbing but still good. Also, I Heart Clive Owen, but you probably knew that already. It felt a little bit long, like they could have trimmed something from the middle, but overall very good. I recommend it. But not for the faint of heart. Because once you as an audience member find yourself going, "Eh. Suicide kits. Good plan. I'd use one.", you know things are not good.

Also saw The Good Shepherd yesterday---watch out for the WASPs---they will kill you. No, no, I kid, it was also very good. No spoilers, because I know Mickey wants to see it. I don't know why it wasn't up for more awards, because it had a great cast, a great story, and Robert DeNiro directed it---if that's not Oscar bait I don't know what is. Angelina Jolie didn't really even bug me that much, which is saying something.

Almost three hours, but it didn't feel overly long, except that looking back there was some stuff that they could have done without. Like I'm not entirely sure we needed to keep flashing forward everytime they figured out something new about the photographs, and the whole story line with the director seemed kind of pointless, except that he was always kind of a scumball and we knew that from the beginning, and who the hell was Alec Baldwin and why was he there?!?!?!?!

Also, the little Skill and Bones group? Quite possibly the Gayest Thing Ever. They mudwrestle and thens ing about it. I'm pretty sure there are shows like that in Vegas.

Le anyhoodles, I'm off to do some laundry and watch the snow fall---ooh, so pretty!!!

I officially have too much time on my hands.

I was in a vegging mood this afternoon, and thought to myself, "Self- it's been awhile since you witnessed the immense acting talent that is Joaquin Phoenix," also, I really didn't want to wipe the kitchen floor.

So I got The Village from the library (they didn't have Walk the Line---boo) and watched it, and it was actually quite good. I saw it in theaters when it came out about two and a half years ago, and inadvertantly figured out the major twist (not that major, but whatever) half an hour in, and kind of don't remember anything else except that the camera panned away when Joaquin Phoenix and Spawn of Opie started to make out and I was quite depressed.

It help up quite well under a second viewing though, and is actually kind of a good movie in it's own right. It did bring to mind some unanswered questions, though, so there are some spoilers if you haven't seen it and are planning on it (although it's been out for two years, so you should get on that).

First, what, exactly, were their plans to prevent inbreeding? You can build an entire little civilization and pay off the government and keep a bunch of teenagers contained to one stinkin' field (it would take and act of God, I tell you, not just some faux-Puritans) and you can't figure out that your kids are going to have to marry their cousins? Because I counted like ten families at most, and those ten, even if you only let certain families marry into certain families or something to keep the family tree realtively forked, can only last you two or three generations at most. And then there's gonna be some poor little grandchild with flippers who thinks it 1897.

Also, I wasn't aware that in order to teach history at the University of Pennsylvania you had to be able to speak English the way they did in the 1850s, but apparently it's a requirement.

Did they not have combs in 1897? Because everyone's hair was going every which way and an hour in it really started to bug me.

And who the hell killed the dogs??? What cold-hearted bastard did that??? Ivy's dad said he thought it was one of the elders, but they never cleared it up. And now I don't know and it's bugging me. Damn you M. Night Shyamalan.

Finally, where the hell did Main Guy With Preternaturally Pretty Daughters find all these damaged people whose lives had been ripped apart by violence? Did he troll support groups? Because that's kind of sick, actually.

Le anyhoodles, it was interesting and kind of funny and has Judy Greer who is my Favorite Sidekick of All Time, except I feel kind of badly for her because she's so good she deserves her own career but she's so good at being a sidekick that she probably won't ever have one.


Ummm, yeah, if we want to call crack "technical problems". Oh, Paula. It's been a long time since the Laker girl days, hasn't it???

Well, I'm off to go eat dinner and watch Grey's Anatomy---yes, I realize it's a day late but I simply have too much to watch on Thursdays. Thankfully, ABC and their utter lack of dramatic shows to fill up the primetime hours is looking out for me.

Yeah, like inbreeding works well in cows, not so much in people.

You cannot go wrong with polygamists on Numb3rs, especially if they are of the creepy old fat dude marrying the young woman after he's killed off all the competition variety. I'm so weird.


So. Yeah. G-Dub addressed the nation last night smack dab in the middle of what was supposed to be a new Criminal Minds/CSI:NY block but wasn't because he decided we all needed to know some more about Iraq. And I am not amused. *sigh*


If I wasn't so pissed about the having to wait another week for brand-new CSI goodness, I guess I'd be kind of pleased that he did talk, though, because he looked very contrite and admitted that perhaps things aren't going quite as swimmingly as we would hope, and I think that's what people need to hear. (The "I talked to our allies in Europe" thing kind of made me giggle a little bit. I'm sorry. Isn't it pretty much just Blair?) Personally, I don't think more troops is the way to go, because I don't think you can win against people who are willing to blow up their children, but I don't have any better ideas, so whatever. War is hell. Maybe it's time we all just realize it.


All Office icons all the time here today, because it is new tonight and I actually get to watch it, and Imladris sent me a loverly site yesterday full of loverly Office icons. So that's what you're getting.

Mmkay, what else is going on in my life? Nothing. Worked Tuesday, and had crazy people come in and try to exchange stuff ten minutes before we closed and they reeked of smoke and were quite weird and I didn't like them because they bought a crapload of stuff right at closing when I was ready to go home. Buggers. Also only made three bucks in tips. Boo.

Yesterday I did nothing. I think. Can't really remember. Oh, went out with Kate for coffee. Interesting. Very, very interesting.

Have been watching bunches of movies, lately, though. Finished I Heart Huckabees, which was quite hilarious and very good. And I officially love Jude Law again, even if his accent did kind of come and go.

Then I watched Shakespeare in Love, which was quite possibly one of the best movies I've seen in a long time. It was funny, and interesting, and moving, and had Geoffrey Rush who I seem to be inadvertently stalking along with Cirian Hinds as they show up in every single movie I watch. Anyhoodles, I loved it. If you all are going to get me the same movie next Christmas, this would be a good one. :D

Finished the night (it was like one thirty by this time) with Veronica Guerin, which was also a fantastic movie, featuring the Lovely Cate Blanchett who apparently the Empress adores and worships. Which is...kind of creepy, actually. But I digress. SOOOO sad though!!!! She had a son!!! Why must the good die young!?!?!? *ahem*

Yesterday we did The Woman in White, which was your typical Masterpiece Theater goodness with Guy Who Loves Keira Knightly From Love Actually playing the main guy. I love anyone and anything connected to that movie, so we loved it. Creepily good. Love Wilkie Collins.

Finally, working my way though the non-Patrick Swayze miniseries North and South, which is quite lovely in the Bleak House way. It has Anna Maxwell Martin (squee!!!) who is dying (sad), and the main mill guy who the main girl totally loves and wants to get it on with but can't admit it because he is of a different class is quite hot, actually. It's quite good. I'm considering buying the DVD.

Finished Philip and Elizabeth---great book. Fantastic. Loved it. I should be British, because I love that royal family so damn much. All of my monarchy love is just going to waste over here because we had to be so damn independent. Sheesh.

The Empress and I are planning to see Children of Men this weekend. Even the apocalypse is more fun if Clive Owen shows up. ;p

And considering you were the one twiddling the finger for the purpose of blackmail, there's a chance you may come off as less than adorable.

*pout* Have to miss Boston Legal this week.

So, Blog Kitties, how are we all doing today? Well, I know how Imladris is doing, because I dropped her off at school at some ungodly hour this morning when I was sporting a hasn't-been-washed-in-awhile ponytail, barely enough mascara to separate my eyes from the rest of my face, and my very best crappy sweatshirt. Very, very good thing I didn't get into an accident. I wouldn't have wanted to talk to anybody.

Even though, as we established last week through no fault of my own, real cops don't look like CBS wants us to think they look. Tragic, really, or I'd be a criminal justice major.

Following in Mickey's footsteps of course, because she was a criminal justice major somewhere between art history (doesn't think it's art if it doesn't have ears on it) and home ec (most of her speed dial options are restaurants).

Anyhoodles, I hope the rest of you are doing well.

Had a fun weekend--- theoretically had a chance to sleep on Saturday, except that I kept waking up and finally gave up and go dressed at eight-thirty. There's not a whole lot to do at eight-thirty on a Saturday. TV Land is running a Wings episode. That's about it.

Had coffee with the Empress and Mommy Dearest. Our regular place was filled with other locals screw them, and we were forced next door to our backup location who's coffee isn't as good but had the advantage of actually having tables. And, as it is January (although a freakishly hot probably global warming induced one at that), a table inside was a plus.

Spent an hour and a half talking about how the Colleen has no life goals and will fail in college and will be all alone OMG. Because apparently her court is all going to out-of-town schools. Having no money or ambition, the Empress is sadly left here with Mary and I. Wait. That came out wrong. On so many levels.

She has decided that maybe social work is for her. Or marrying up. That's my plan. I'm pre-law for a reason.

Then I went ice skating with Mary, Nick, and Steve, and ended up spending more time on my derriere (see? some French took.) than on the skates, even though I actually had my own and didn't have to rent the ugly brown ones. Ick. Mary had Nick pull her around, using absolutely no skills whatsoever so she should not have been laughing so hard when that little girl passed me. *sigh* And they were playing lots and lots of Kelly Clarkson hits. By the third time though Since U Been Gone I was ready to hurt somebody. Maybe that little girl who passed me.

Also now I kind of can't move. My right thigh is bruised to my knee, by arms ache from either pulling people down onto the ground with me or slamming into the railings, and I think my wrist is sprained. Still fun, though.

We finished at Culvers, which is way more my speed than actually doing some sort of activity, and I have discovered that Custardcinos are quite possibly the best things since pumpkin spice lattes. Which is saying something.

Worked all day yesterday. Not fun. Watched Beauty and the Geek at night, at least until the station cut out halfway through and I was very upset. I like that show.

*sigh*

Now I'm back to reality, which is kind of fun too because I have no responsibilities. Except I have to overhaul the bathroom, but we'll get to that in a minute.

Movie Update: Decided to move up a little from the 19th century, and am finishing up I Heart Huckabees, which is quite funny in a way that I kind of don't get but am completely enjoying laughing at the absurdity. Veronica Guerin is up next, which I'm expecting to be less absurdly hilarious. Not that Irish drug lords aren't a good time, but still.

Then we have Shakespeare in Love, featuring the Brother of Fiennes.

Also I NEED TO SEE CHILDREN OF MEN. NOW. Must go this week. Also need to see The Good Shepherd, if only for the chance to see Angelina Jolie trying to be domestic.

Speaking of which, our favorite little home wrecker told Elle that she kinda cares more about Maddox and Zahara because they're damaged. Wow. Saviour Complex much???

So, the bathroom. Daddy finally fixed the shower (the thingy had inexplicably become detached from the wall--it wasn't my fault, that's all I know), and now I have my own bathroom. Sorta. But this will alleviate the "Seriously. When are you going to be FINISHED ALREADY IN THERE???" every morning once school starts. And, I have to say, it's lovely to be able to have a place to put all of my stuff.

This does, however, mean that I actually have to make the shower clean again, though, a state it has rarely seen since, ooh, 2004 when Mom stopped doing it and I discovered that closing the curtain was way easier than scrubbing Imladris's hair junk stuff off the bottom of a tub that no one uses. So I will probably spend the better part of the afternoon doing that. Not looking forward to it. The smell of Comet makes me nauseous.

Are we having shrimp???

A quick entry, as the Empress has requested use of the computor and I, as a lowely Grand Duchess, cannot refuse her. At least, not if I want to deal with the screaming. Oh- there will be screaming.

Have been in a very 19th century mood lately, and worked my way through the 1996 movie, the 1997 A&E "miniseries" (I'm sorry, but if it's under two hours, you cannot really call it a miniseries.), and part of the 1983 actual miniseries of Jane Eyre (Five hours. Perfectly respectable miniseries.). Sadly, I cannot find the Jude Law SNL skit, which was quite possibly The Funniest Thing Ever Written. Not even on YouTube. Boo.

First, 1997 is crap. Rochester was NOT black Irish, and he was somewhat attractive. Cirian Hinds is, tragically, the former and decidedly not the latter. Also, Samantha Morton is about twenty years too old and way to pretty to be Jane.

It does, however, have the inestimable advantage of having Mrs. Jones/Mrs. Dashwood playing Mrs. Fairfax. We lurve Gemma Jones. I'd like her to be my mom. She could share with Rockford.

Anyhoodles, 1983 has the best story, hands down, just because they have more hours to put into it, and Jane is good, but I'm not buying Timothy Dalton as Rochester. After an hour he started to bug me. *sigh*

Other than the fact that Jane looks a lot like the daughter of a family that I used to play with when I was little (which is creepy when said Jane is ogling her boss), the 1996 version has my favorite Jane/Rochester. Even though William Hurt's greatest contribution to cinema is still that Viggo Mortensen got to kill him in a completely awesome scene in A History of Violence, taking Viggo's hotness factor, which was already pretty damn high, through the roof. I love that movie.

Probably a good thing, as it consisted of rougly 80% of my total Christmas gifts. :D

As long as we're being all old English, I can't leave my Bleak House icons out of it, y'all.

Ordered North and South from the library, supposedly awesome---and it has Anna Maxwell Martin, My Favorite Person On Earth OMG.

Changing topics, I took down the Christmas decorations today, and I now have a scar on my hand, a backache, and am seriously considering converting to Judaism just for the Menorah.

Also, I might have broken the brand new really expensive attic step thingy. Oops.

But the living room is clean now.



Also couldn't forget about Sense and Sensibility. Nothing to do with anything, but look how pretty!!!

ETA: Stairs aren't broken. Happiness.

A thoroughly dry and uninteresting update as my creative muse seems to have taken a New Year's vacation...damn her.

Or, I swear on unborn Baby Ada that I'll update three days later.

I'm on vacation. I've had a lot of nothing to do...what do you want from me?

Sooo...2007 (which, btw, is way prettier in writing than 2006, n'est pas?) is going well. Spent most of Monday watching The Matrix, Into the West, and more Matrix, and have decided that TNT= Teh Loveliness, and Keanu Reeves dodging bullets= Teh Coolness. And then went and ate lots and lots of lasagna and such at Mickey's, and finished the night with some Baileys. Lovely times, really.

Yesterday I sat at home, which can be lovely in it's own way, and I had to work at night, which was very much of the suck but slightly necessary as I have a write a seizure-inducing check to UWM tomorrow and have decided that if Mary and I want to got to the U.K. and Paris next January I'll need to have $3,800 saved as well as money to pay for the trip. This appears to be, if one works a slightly-higher-than-minimum-wage job, an insurmountable task. Hmmm. We'll have to see. I will not be deterred from drinking in a pub in Stratf0rd-Upon-Avon (drinking age is 18 and I'm too young to rent a car---cheers!!!) or walking slowly down the aisle of Westminster Abbey while pretending to look at the architecture but actually pretending I'm marrying Prince William and returning the realm to it's Roman roots...*ahem*

So yeah. Money. Boo.

Today I spent a lovely leisurely morning at home and then went to lunch with Mary. Good times were had by all, until I discovered inadvertantly and through absolutely no fault of my own (and yes, the police report will back that up) that REAL detectives do not, sadly, resemble those on ANY of the CSI's, not even the supposedly "unattractive" ones...*sigh* Will there ever be any wonder left in the world?

Hot Pockets are good...until you realize that you're wasting four hundred calories on fake food that will fill you up for about twenty minutes. Then you mostly feel sad.

Working my way through Jane Eyre movies, trying to find the definitive version. I'm pretty sure it's the 1983 one with James Bond, who is way too pretty but still manages to pull of Rochester.

Just to give you a little glimpse into my twisted psyche, in the book Jane herself actually bugs me a lot (Seriously. Stop being such a wuss. And do something with your damn hair.), but I am very protective of Rochester, as I am weirdly and ridiculously attracted to him. Even when I read it for the first time at twelve I was like, "Okay...I want him. Now."

Sidebar: I have a tendency to fall in love with male characters in books, and hate the women. Hating the women might be strange- and probably only is so because I have met, ooh, about five women in my entire life that I can stand to be around, but I can't belive I'm alone in the guy thing, because no way in hell could Pride and Prejudice have had two hundred years of loyal followers and spawned and entire genre of films without generations of women falling in love with Mr. Darcy. It's good, but as Imladris and I have agreed, it's kind of 19th century chick lit. And yet, it's managed to become quite possibly the most beloved book of all time. After the Bible. Maybe. I know a ton of women who could quote you from our beloved Jane here, but couldn't finish "Matthew, Mark, Luke, and...?" This may actually be a bigger commentary on our society than the enduring power of getting the rich hot guy in the end, but that is another sidebar for another day.

It's also one of those parts I tend to cast in my mind, like Heathcliff and Max DeWinter. I have yet to find a suitable guy for any of these, though, and it bothers me almost as much as my literary baby name crisis. As much as it pains me to say this, Alan would be a PERFECT Rochester, but he's *gags* too old. *tear* Heathcliff---well, Heathcliff is tough. They came close in '94 with Ralph Fiennes, but at the end of the day good ol' Ralph is still a refined British dude that we all love but don't really take seriously as a monster. And Max is easier to get, I guess. You just need rich and hot. Except I wouldn't want anyone to screw with the 1940 version too much, because it is My Favorite Movie Of All Time I Think Maybe If You Take Johnny Depp Out of The Question.

Alas, no one wants my casting ideas. Woe.

Le anyhoodles, to wrap up that incredibly long digression, I'm halfway through the William Hurt/Charlotte Gainsbough, which is good but goes way too fast. Ten minutes in and she was leaving Lowood. It's a travesty.

Continuing with today's theme of Kathleen is a Dork, allow me to share with you, in all their glory my books, courtesy of LibraryThing. com, a lovely website that now has my undying devotion because it allowed me to do what countless notebooks and weekends sitting in my bedroom with Erin Shanley couldn't---catalog my books. All of them, in one place. Well, just the adult ones. I thought the two hundred Nancy Drew and countless Thoroughbred/Saddle Club/Pony Club/Other Outlets For My Childhood Obsessions were slightly unneccessry.

Except that Betsy-Tacy got an honorary spot, as well as Christy, which made me want to be a missionary for about twelve minutes just so I could marry a hot preacher guy, until I realized that I a.) don't like not having a bathroom, b.) don't like people, and c.) am Catholic and if I married a hot preacher of my own religion I'd burn in Hell for all eternity. Sadly, C was not, at thirteen, the most pressing deterrent. I think it was the bathroom. That bathroom was a biggie.

It is now permanently linked on the sidebar as well, in case you need are reading this one day and are struck with the sudden and intense need to know what is overcrowding my shelf.

So. I'm going to go watch Without A Trace with the Empress. Somebody abandoned her baby. Oooh.