Tuesday, April 21, 2009

[231] iiiiit's been one week...

I fully intended to update much sooner, but it has been quite a bit busier than usual this past week. My normally mundane life here in Beaverton got thrown for a bit of a loop when my childhood friend Sarah came to Oregon for a couple days. Sarah runs a popular website called Pop17, and was here as an Intel Insider testing out their ish and doing the duties of a social media guru. She invited me to tag along on these outings, including a presentation at Intel on their new MyWiFi technology, a Tweetup at the Green Dragon Pub, an evening at a decidedly un-Portland bar (think Sutra in Costa Mesa), and a self-guided tour through the Wieden & Kennedy building (meaning we wandered around aimlessly until someone finally questioned why we were there) after her radio interview on W+K radio. As it turns out, this very building was where the Nike catch phrase, "Just do it," was coined. Also, the advertising for Coraline was done by this agency, so I got to see some sweet posters and contemplate snatching them right off the wall. I didn't, of course.
On Friday nite, we watched Mean Girls and stayed up chatting about old friends, new friends, and theology. Not only was the conversation pleasant; it was also nice to hang out with someone who didn't laugh at me, but instead got excited when I changed the channel to Star Trek: The Next Generation after the movie ended.
Saturday, Emil, Andy , and I dropped Sarah off at the airport, then headed to Yreka, CA so that Em could get a fix-it ticket taken care of. It was a long drive for a signature, but we made it count. We ate at Heaven on Earth, which is probably one of my favorite restaurants ever and truly lives up to its name; we spent ten minutes in a casino simply to say that we'd done it and to take pictures. Turns out you're not supposed to take pictures in the casino. Guess they don't want to risk letting out the secret that casinos are actually filled with depressed, old people wasting their retirements compulsively pressing "spin" on a flashing screen while sitting in a stagnant cloud of cigarette smoke. This is not what it looked like on The O.C.
Anyway, we spent most of the trip singing at the top of our lungs to Disney songs, 90's contemporary Christian hits, one-hit-wonders, and other such classics. It was beautiful.
Sunday, I babysat all day before heading out to see Gran Torino with my road trip compatriots. I loved it. I bawled.... but I always bawl. It's kind of my thing when it comes to watching movies. I know that most of the supporting actors in the movie were crap, but I still don't see why it wasn't nominated for an Oscar. I thought it trumped Slumdog, no contest.
Now, I'm finally slowing down for a minute. I have a day off tomorrow and I plan to sleep for as long as my body will let me. Goodnight, moon.

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

[224] remember me?

I used to blog here, once upon a time. *sigh* Such levels of suckitude1 are only attainable by those sincerely devoted to the pursuit of sucking. And the lazy. Okay, mostly the lazy. But I mean it this time: I'm gonna do better. If I don't blog at least once a week, I give you, the reader, the right to give me a swift flick to my abnormally small ears. And by you, I mean, anyone but Emily. The last thing I need is an ear bombardment while I'm trying to get my snooze on. Heaven forbid she should interrupt me while I dream about Liam Neeson.
Not THAT kind of dream. Sickos.
I just spilled Gatorade all over my pillow sham. Let that be a lesson to you all - don't drink and blog.
I just watched Five Minutes of Heaven, speaking of Liam (totally on a first name basis). It was incredible. I know I'm biased on multiple fronts with this one - namely the fact that it stars Liam Neeson & James Nesbitt and that it revolves around the Troubles in Northern Ireland - but it's legit no matter who you are.
I've also recently watched Doubt and Slumdog Millionaire. Doubt was phenomenal. Not the most exciting or fast-paced film out there, but the acting is out of this world. See it. Slumdog, on the other hand, was just alright. I was expecting to love it, but I was also expecting a pretty different movie. Everyone made it out to be some sort of heartwarming, feel-good, family film. Um... yeah. Still Danny Boyle. Depressing as hell. It had a similar affect on me to reading The Kite Runner. Not a good one. But I did love the Bollywood dance scene in the credits. All movies should end like that. Whoever survives gets to bust a move.

1. The word "suckitude" was stolen from Anthony Bourdain, who referred to himself as the "epicenter of suckitude" on an episode of his Travel Channel show, No Reservations.