Tuesday, August 28, 2012

Three months, no venue, no date: no problem.


Quick update.

Super-quick. because if I weren't me, and I were reading me, I'd be in the "shut up about the wedding stuff" camp. But maybe some people's little "please! no more book reviews!" radars actually perk up for wedding stuff. I know there are zillions of blogs out there frequented by zillions of daydreaming chick-like people who love nothing better than to stare at pictures of other people's table centerpieces and silverware and aisle-runners, so:

Wedding stuff.

Theoretically, we're planning to tie the knot on December 1st. Theoretically, because, with 94 days till W-day, we have:

No firm, official date, stemming from the fact that we have:

No venue.

Also:

No guest list.

No invitations.

No caterer.

No "wedding website" (BUT! I did actually splat down money for a "normal" domain rather than a blahblahblah.ourwedding.iforgottheurl.com, so once I find a template, I can get www.peterheather2012.com up and rolling. Because that's cute and easy to remember, right?

So, apparently it's hard to find an indoor venue for about 120+ people in high Company Holiday Party season with only 3 months notice. APPARENTLY, it's sort of like a reality TV show to see who can find and secure a venue before the Local Electrical Company locks that action down with a nice, plump, company check. Gladiator Weddings.

We DID toss around the idea of a quick, small, intimate, "legal wedding" to sign the papers and git 'er done....there are MANY reasons this would be practical, logical, money-saving, stress-reducing, fill in the blank. We'd treat the immediate family (and a lucky friend or two) to a nice dinner at a small, intimate, local winery, I'd put on the dress and the fancy shoes, he'd wear a suit........then we'd wait until spring when we could save some money, and drag it all out all over again. For the sake of the crowd. Put on the dress, force some friends to get dressed up, arrange the cake and caterers and music and photographer....and: fake it, sort of.

But (unless I'm keeping a super-special secret and we're already married........), we're opting not to go that route.

We'd rather rush, hustle, cut some corners, and throw elbows at Local Electrical Company in our bid to lock down some yet-un-chosen venue, throw out the party platters of pasta and Caesar salad, hit up Costco for the most decent bubbly we can buy in bulk for $7 a bottle (heh, heh, heh), and pay for a keg. We'll force brothers and sisters into tuxes and bridesmaid dresses, we'll debate the merits of Cee-Lo versus Band of Horses for a processional (or Abba. Don't discount our willingness to go off the reservation and play Abba as I drag that train down the aisle), we'll have awkward toasts and awkward dancing to Ke$ha (YES.) and old Usher (YES.) and, oh, Amy Grant (double YES.) and then force everyone out the door by 11pm so that we don't get charged for extra hours at Holiday Party Central. That's what we'd rather do.

So -- that's where it's at.

We're just not there yet.

And, I know, that wasn't super-quick.

Cleaning up the news feed: making Facebook work for ME.

(....actually -- you MUST go check out the "reviews" for the Lady-Pens. As good as "wolf t-shirt" reviews...)


First off, I'll remind us that I spend All Day On The Internet. All caps. It's a "short attention span for real work" sort of thing, coupled with a genuine Love and Affection for Al Gore's Brain Child. 

So. 

Realized the other day that it seemed like my Facebook (and, to a similar extent, Twitter) feed had become nothing but one big, loud, obnoxious, never-ending advertisement for crap I don't need. Realized, concurrently, that I'd been the maestro of my own irritation, orchestrating a series of "likes" and "subscriptions" and "follow" mouse-clicks that meant my day was spent scrolling through nothing but advertisements for junk hucked at me by companies I'd rather just left me alone.

Anyone who's ever "liked" a store at which they shop or a product they buy and then immediately regretted that the company actually posts annoying stuff with much regularity will relate to the chagrin: it was beginning to feel like my online life was nothing but a collection of commercials. And no one likes commercials. 

Unless they're Dos Equis commercials. Or, if you're Mr Wonderful, the "free credit score dot com, dot com" commercials, EVEN THOUGH the jingle gets stuck in his head for days. Especially at night when we're trying to sleep. 

Anyway. 

Sure, I "liked" Jiffy Lube to get a $5 discount, but I don't really want to hear what they have to say about winterizing my car when I fire up Facebook in the morning.

Yep, I "liked" that steakhouse downtown because they had a free dinner giveaway once (a dinner that costs most of a pay check, actually), but I don't really care to read about their whiskey-tasting dinners and their famous guests chefs when all I really want is to cruise through pictures of actual friends' weddings and pregnant bellies.

Maybe I "like" that tanning salon, but would they PLEASE stop posting pictures of bikini-clad girls in lots of jewelry asking fans to "Yea" or "Nay" whether or not layered necklaces are a "must" when poolside this summer - ???

And yeah, I "like" that cheap chain clothing store that cranks out chintzy junk made by Chinese slave labor, but I don't care that they just slashed clearance prices on their website and I don't care that they want to re-direct me to this month's "Elle" magazine to see the many ways I can copy designer looks for less. And I don't have Homecoming anything on the horizon (this should be telling me something about their target demographic. And it ain't me). 

Yes, I "like" the expensive department store, but that doesn't mean it helps my "buy things" compulsion to have $9700 dresses appearing in the news feed as though any REAL people (read: people who do not appear on any television programming on the Bravo network) would ever buy a Lanvin for ten grand just because Facebook showed it to them. Now when they finally get the full line of Tom Ford cosmetics, then maybe I'll........NO. No, I'm not a masochist. 

And I couldn't even tell you why I "liked" that particular film studio, in the first place. All they produce are violence-heavy, dude-magnet action flicks. Wait -- actually, I love those.

Where were the "friends" in my "social networks?" Don't real PEOPLE use these sites anymore? Why am I constantly sifting through the songs they just listened to on Spotify? Why do I care that so-and-so likes Tide detergent? 

Life on the webertubes was becoming like commercial radio -- you think you stop by to hear some peppy summer hip-hop, you end up dodging "Ovation Cell Therapy" commercials and Nothing But Katy Perry.

It's a wasteland.

Because I allowed it to be. 

Cue moment of clarity. 

I created this mess, I can unsubscribe myself from this mess. 

Sort of like when I purged my email of ALL junk mail a year ago. If it wasn't from a person, I unsubscribed. It gradually seeps back in, the junk, but at least I had a baseline. For a few good months, my phone wasn't full of 18 junk emails when I checked it in the morning. If I could do that, I could do the same with Facebook, right?

So I did. 

And, because most of the rest of us are deluged with crap we "like" and songs we played (or skipped), it was a little.....desolate out there, once I whittled the noise down to just friends and family. So, I started adding back to the mix. Rather than overloading myself with sales pitches, I chose to follow sites that I actually visit and respect. Blogs and organizations that add something positive to the online conversation. The equivalent of choosing to eat at a restaurant I really ENJOY during a lunch break instead of filling up on beef jerky and diet coke from the drug store down the block from the office.

(But no one else does that, do they.....? Those little "Cocktail Pep's" are so good when you need a salty, greasy, mid-afternoon protein fix....... And at least I weaned myself from the Sour Patch Kids.....THAT must deserve a pat on the back...? Heather, you're gross.). 

Anyway -- I've realized that it sort of restored my faith in the webernet to make a more focused decision about my online diet. Less Oberto, more parsley. Less candy, more grapefruit. All of a sudden, the world is a brighter, more optimistic place. 

I need more optimism these days. I hate my day job (even while it provides ridiculous amounts of time for You Tube and celebrity gossip.....). I'm frustrated with the current political dialogue. I don't get nearly enough sleep. There are 11 pounds more of me to love than I'd prefer, say my jeans. The wedding planning is a massive undertaking for which Mr Wonderful and I are woefully under-prepared. I'd love a vacation. BUT. But! In the midst of that, I can remind myself that there are smart people out there, saying smart things about important topics in ways that are accessible to massive numbers of people. 

It's just our job to go find it. 

(...look! local issues getting national attention!...)

(....Decision made: I'll "like" organizations that re-focus my "webernet diet...")

(....see? It makes me THINK during the day......)

(...book cupcakes! see, I can keep some "junk food" and still ENJOY the newsfeed...)
(...I've discovered legitmately RESPECTFUL discussions in the comments...!)

(...I love these "Business of Books" ladies -- they teach publishing. And are witty......)

Thursday, August 23, 2012

Love it. It's like an "early aughts" match made in heaven.....


I love that this Avril/Nickleback "surprise!" came out of nowhere, and none of us stateside had ANY idea these two sorta-has-beens were even a thing....

I love that they're a thing.* 

I love that they both think they're tough, hardcore stuff, and then they pose for People with an awesome "church-directory circa 1987" photo that slaps 'em both with a dose of The Proms. 

Aren't they pretty much just a match made in dirty Converse-wearing heaven? If that Zumiez store still exists, I'm pretty sure these guys should be their new Spokescouple. 

Aside from the fact that the Most Annoying Recording Artist of All Time bought his Sk8R Gurrrrl a pretty righteous ring, we have an equally Girl Scout proposal, if the tabs are to be believed. Lainey Gossip reports that: 

according toHELLO! Canada Avril was scrapbooking when Chad proposed. He slipped an extra page in there that read “WILL YOU MARRY ME”. Go ahead and process that. It’s amazing.

Yep. Amazing. 

Here's the thing: I'm totally fascinated by Avril's choices for Man Friends. Here's a quick photo tour:

The ex-husband, Deryck Whibley (they got hitched in 2006, divorced 3 years later). 

"Oil" heir Brandon Davis. She slummed it (SERIOUSLY) with him in 2009, post-split. 

 Brody Jenner (yes, of "The Hills" and "Kardashian" fame). They were together from some point in 2010 until this January. 

 The Kroeger. That's "KREW-Gur" to those of us who aren't...um....Canadian?

Okay, girlfriend doesn't have a type. AND, if we use my theory that we're attracted to people that look like us, she has no concept of the proportion of her own features. But she likes a strong chin.

Anyway -- lil Av' went from rock dude, to drunken, oily heir (seriously -- just try to find a picture of that guy where he's not looking sweaty and greased), to reality star frat boy, to......Her Perfect Match. 

I'm sold -- they're perfect for each other. They both think they're more hardcore than the rest of us think they are. People make fun of both of their careers like it was Olympic sport. They're like twin punchlines. Happily Ever After Punchlines. Who's faces from the nose down are strikingly similar. Which is how we know they'll make it last. 


“He makes me laugh every day. He takes care of me in every way and is extremely attentive.”

And Chad says:

“I knew I was falling for her. It was incredibly powerful and something I'll never forget. I feel like the luckiest person alive.”

I love this. Make way for babies with dip-dyed hair and shredded jeans. Just wait for it.

*Oh, and in the spirit of full-disclosure: I dig Avril. She's cute. Her music is contagious. Her shoes are consistently horrible. There. We got that over with. 

Thursday, August 16, 2012

Can we boycott this stupid movie? Please???????


I wanted to get excited for this movie. I mean -- Paul Rudd, Leslie Mann, Judd Apatow.......we're conditioned to laugh before the trailer even BEGINS, right? It has all the ingredients for Grown-Up Comic Gold -- Paul Rudd is basically Movie Jesus, after all, blameless savior of cinema, beloved by women, children, and smart men the world over.  And the subject seems watchable enough: suburban malcontents trying to spice up their life? Sure, most of us burb-dwelling, middle-management types can get excited about that.

Except: if the entire film is anything like the trailer, this will be one protracted confirmation of stereotypes about women.

Such as:

Women are afraid of aging.

Women are uptight and vain.

The only alternative to the natural aging process is SEXINESS. You may be old, but you can still be a "boner machine" if you keep those abs tight enough.

Your husband will get tired of hearing you speak.

You're a harpy.

Your kids find you irksome and old-fashioned.

Old, flabby doctors will make fun of your ancient vagina.

Oh -- and childbirth? If you've INFLICTED that sight upon your mate, he'll be so horrified he'll still be feeling the need to RETALIATE, 15 years later. Heaven forbid.

I get it, I get it: couples need to reinvigorate a marriage they've not maintained, and there's something about that magic number 40 that makes some folks feel old. BUT -- why are all of the jokes at the expense of the wife? And are we ladies supposed to go see this movie and giggle at the ludicrousness of women aging, thinking, "silly old cow, better tighten up those abs or her husband will go find someone with a better tummy who knows better than to say what she's thinking. More crunches! More crunches!"

Not that Bridesmaids was any huge leap forward for women in movies in terms of SUBJECT matter (it was still a lot of catty girl-on-girl drama in pursuit of Happily Ever After With A Man), BUT: the jokes were more or less aimed at the ridiculousness of ladies' attempts to sabotage one another's happiness.

"This is 40," on the other hand, just looks like another way to solidify the media myth that women older than 25 are pretty much whiny brats with cobwebs on their lady parts, who want nothing more than to "be sexy again."

As though that were the holy grain of lady-hood.

Just check out THIS PIECE on the shrinking age of Cosmo cover models. According to Refinery29's take:

"... it suggests that the mainstream definition of womanly and sexy is changing, and increasingly, older women are being told, at least subliminally, that they aren't it. Instead, we're being told that since we are literally losing value as we age, the way to feel sexy is to channel our inner teen (or take advice from a teen girl)."

Friday, August 10, 2012

My face is channeling Demi Lovato. I didn't give it permission to do that.

There's a big difference between this:

Exhibit A: Victoria Justice

And this:

Exhibit B: Demi Lovato

I was aiming for looking like option A, today.

Instead, I feel like I'm channeling option B.

And THAT (minus the Star Trek hair), is not quite how I'd wanted the face to end up looking today.

I think it's mostly the eyebrows. I totally ended up with RoboBrows today.

Not that Demi isn't a lovely girl -- she is. But, um, spider lashes and glass-cutting eyebrows aren't quite "sunny Friday at the office"-congruent.

But -- we can't all be Victoria Justice.

So, my eyebrows and I will power through the day with an inadvertently smug expression that has nothing to do with my attitude and everything to do with that damn waterproof pencil......

Thursday, August 9, 2012

Champagne and picture-hanging.



Wanna know the super-secret key to successful interior decorating?

Champagne. At midnight.

Okay, prosecco, but Let's Not Be Annoying.

Bubbly. Champers. Sparkling wine. Critical to the success of midnight picture-hanging. Less critical to the success of getting up with the five am alarm a few hours later, but really: Thursday's already Friday's obnoxious, yappy dog (to use a metaphor that hits close to home), so why not dress it up with some sleep-deprived headaches and a drowsy brain, too - !

So, if I had more pictures, I'd toss them up. These ones are the official documentation that we couldn't decide whether mirror looked better Vertical. Or. Horizontal. This was a matter of grave philosophical importance. The room's chi hangs in the balance. The fancy wall bolts won't allow us to change our mind -- we must make a decision, and then STICK WITH IT. A decision about this mirror's orientation must not be taken too lightly.

Grave. Philosophical. Importance.

So, when a decision likes this proves simply too vexing for the Midnight Champagne Minds of an otherwise quite decisive couple, the obvious alternative is to abandon the mirror, and go absolutely crazy hanging every other colorful piece of art you own on your bedroom wall.

We did this last night. As though we needed to apologize to the living room wall for leaving one portion of it naked and mirror-less, we attacked the other walls with that hammer like we had something to atone for. In the end, we just proved that our bedroom walls can handle a lot more color than we gave them credit for. We're snoozing under a rainbow of blues and greens, watched over by parrot portraits and splashy, abstract gardens and "river scenes" that only look like "river scenes" because I tell myself they do: we were basically suckered into a giant, poorly painted, exceptionally colorful canvas full of horizontal lines of blue-ish green that we LOVED only because it was So Cheap! And So Big!

And so we have a wall full of Cheap and Big and Colorful art, hung (with a miraculously keen eye for Straight) at midnight.

Woke up this morning delighted. Which means we did something right.

The mirror is still waiting for its prince to come in the form of some molly bolts and a permanent place of (either horizontal OR vertical) honor on what's probably the only wall in our house that doesn't have something Large and Imposing tacked up yet.

That's tonight's project.

And the utter aimlessness of these few paragraphs are brought to you by Morning After Midnight Champagne Brain. Because calling it "hungover" doesn't sound very artistic.



Wednesday, August 8, 2012

"Skyfall" trailer - yippee!


Color me giddy: it's the new James Bond trailer - !!! And not a wimpy little teaser, either: we get a full-length, 2.5-minute long "wheeeeeeee!" -fest peppered with plenty of Daniel Craig's smug, unsmiling machismo and (of course!) car-flipping, flame-throwing, gun-blasting special effects.

Once upon a time, I owned every single James Bond movie ever made. To say "I lost them in the divorce" sounds cheesy, but.......alas, years ago my "let's keep this friendly" magnanimity got the best of Bond, and away went "Tomorrow Never Dies," away went "The Spy Who Loved Me," away went "Octopussy," away went "Thunderball," away went "Doctor No." Gone. All gone.

Now, maybe it's a sacrilege to tarnish the memory of the library loved and lost by saying this, but: I miss the Daniel Craig versions the least. Because dude is NOT James Bond. The Daniel Craig as James Bond movies are GREAT movies, but I have trouble reconciling the bottles of Bollinger and the "no means yes" cultural nuances of the 60's and the corny personal air- and watercraft that make up the lexicon of my Bond appreciation with the Serious, Brooding, BLONDISH Craig-Bond that seems now to be the de facto FAVORITE iteration of the hero. It's like the Borne reboot with Jeremy Renner. Movie looks good in its own right, but don't try to tell me it's the same character.

Because it's not.

Bond is a tuxedo and cheesy banter. Bond is a head of pomade-slick hair and a smirk. Bond is a smarmy come-on with the ladies. Bond's girl troubles are only ever one-movie long. Bond doesn't brood. Bond pops the cork and finds a classier broad with a sillier name. Bond (ok, fine) occasionally rides a cello case down a  snowy mountain. Bond lands in an enemy fortress and drinks their sake. When Bond gets hurt, he Ace-bandages that action and jumps back in the fight.

BUT: I love me an expensive action flick. I love big explosions, and expensive cars flipping end over end, and I love seeing a boat chase or a top-of-a-train chase, no matter what. I love antiheroes with unreconciled emotional scars that make them Angry Special Agents with Pent-Up Passion.

All of that said: this Daniel Craig Bond routine looks like it's giving a nod to the Bond of Old, right down to Javier Bardem's blonde homage to the villains of the Roger Moore era (I'm thinking of Christopher Walken in "A View to a Kill"). The set and cinematography look more indulgent than in "Quantum of Solace" (which, frankly, made me thirsty to watch...all of that sand, and desert and heat....). The "gondola inside the dragon's mouth" bit looks terrifically campy -- reminds me of the sort of grand, illusory sets and scenery of "From Russia with Love" or "Moonraker," some of the earlier Bond films with big flair.

Overall: I'm excited about it. Ralph Fiennes is back to looking well-groomed and seems frankly, delightfully ominous. This round of Bond girls look as lovely as ever. And toward the end of the trailer -- that moment where Bond leaps into the train car from out of nowhere and then straightens the cuffs on the suit?

Classic.

Can't wait.