Saturday, June 6, 2009
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
- How much I enjoy being a HOB
- How much I enjoy looking at beautiful young men
- How much I enjoy pitting those beautiful young men against each other in a winner-take-me cage match
What could be more shallow, I ask you, than a 34-year-old mom of two who has crushes on Zac Efron AND Rob Pattinson? And I'm okay with that, really. I wouldn't mind being so shallow that I would sigh over the dreamy blue eyes of Orlando Bloom in Return of the King, even knowing that they are contacts and his eyes are really a deep, chocolate brown.
The problem: I'm really not that shallow. I genuinely think these people are talented.
This is why I haven't jumped on the following bandwagons:
So, here's the truth:
I think the Twilight books are good. Not "guilty pleasures," or "fun if you can stand the bad writing," or any other qualifiers: I think they are good books. I THINK TWILIGHT IS AS GOOD AS HARRY POTTER. There, I said it.
I think Rob Pattinson is a really good actor and a great musician. I think he is very handsome, but that really is secondary. My crush on him is totally artistic. I don't want him to kiss me, or bite me: I want to sit with him at a piano and write a song together. [hangs head in geeky shame.]
I think Zac Efron is also very talented. I think he's funny. Just naturally, effortlessly, very funny. I want to write a movie for him. Or, failing that, a Funny or Die sketch.
But Deb, you may ask, if you are so "not-shallow," why are all of your artistic crushes beautiful young men?
Answer: they aren't. These are just the ones I admit to so that the blogoverse will take me seriously as a shallow commentator on pop culture. Here are some of my non-bloglitically-correct artistic crushes:
1. Steve Martin
2. Joel McHale (okay, borderline)
3. Jim Gaffigan
4. Jon Hodgman
5. Will Ferrell
What do the five men listed above have in common? They are all very funny, very witty, good writers, and (except Joel) not sexy-cute at ALL. Number six would have been Paul F. Tompkins, number seven would have been Phillip Seymour Hoffman, number eight would have been Tilda Swinton (prove to me that she's really a woman!)...you get the idea.
So when I say I love George Clooney, don't misunderstand me. I would love to work with George someday, give him pointers on his love life, cook a meal, write a movie, win an Oscar...whatever. Just so you know it's not a shallow, pointless crush based only on George's good looks, which I hardly ever notice.
Of course, whatever we'd be doing, George would be shirtless. I hear he works best that way.
Monday, June 1, 2009
1. Today is the last Monday of the 2008-2009 school year. Yes, I am still teaching this week. Today some of my very special students earned a Cheeto party. The scent of corn, powdered cheese, and puberty is a pervasive, compelling odor that I'm sure to be scrubbing from my nostrils in the days to come.
2. Though I am suffering from one of the all-time great sinus infections this world has ever known, I have found a smell that breaks through to my long-abused odor receptors: corn, powdered cheese, and puberty. Ahhh.
3. Dexy is having surgery this week. I am intermittently crying and shaking at the prospect, but I'm being assured by parents, doctors, teachers, virtual friends, and strangers on the street that his health will improve greatly once the surgery is over. (Dexy is having tubes placed in both ears and his adenoids are being removed.) His surgery will be Wednesday morning, please think of us!
4. The MTV Movie Awards contained what I felt to be the appropriate amount of Robert Pattinson exposure. And who knew Jim Carrey could still be funny? Surprises all around! Except for the awards, of course- everybody knew who was going to win.
5. Princess helped her daddy make supper last night. Macaroni and cheese. Kraft. Blue box. Classic. Princess helped pour in the macaroni, stir up the "cheese," and ate FOUR BOWLS of her handiwork. Sven, showing amazing initiative, heard on the radio that one way to encourage picky eaters to eat more was to have them help prepare the food. Miss Picky ate enough for Sven to declare the experiment a rousing success.
For her part, Princess told her daddy, "This is the best macaroni and cheese I ever had!"