Your Bloody Valentine's Day...

I’m not a fan of Valentine’s Day and it has nothing to do with being “alone” which is my choice, or being “reminded that I don’t have anyone” or anything like that. I don’t wear black in protest, or mourning, or whatever that’s supposed to signify.

Here’s my deal: It’s NOT ROMANTIC, homies! St. Valentine was a martyr! While incarcerated he wrote notes to the jail-keeper’s daughter and signed them “your” – as was common even in Jane Austen’s day – which gave us the phrase “your Valentine”. …at least that’s the popular one of many saints Valentine. February 14 celebrates the date of his burial. Happy Valentine’s Day, ya’ll!

Besides, if you love someone, do you really need a special day to tell them? Haven’t you already told them? Don’t you show them in myriad ways? If not, shame on you. Doing something special on Valentine’s Day is a cop-out. How much nicer when it’s a surprise for no reason!

So okay, a lot of people might appreciate a “gimme” holiday that basically tells you what to do and how to celebrate. Fine. But really? Named after - and celebrated on -  the day a MARTYR was BURIED? Let’s call it what it is: Happy “Hallmark Totally Made This Up” Day. Or, my personal favorite: Happy “Anniversary of the St. Valentine’s Day Massacre” Day. Heehee. Did I mention I used to live in Chicago?

I’m wracking my brain, and I don’t think I’ve actually been in a relationship on the fake holiday. But then, if I was involved with someone who decided to “do something special” on that day, I would probably get up and walk out of the restaurant, or otherwise ruin all the careful planning. Because really, if we’re together, you KNOW this about me. You KNOW I find this holiday trite and phony and a waste of time and money. So if you have made the colossal mistake of attempting “romance” (key point: I’m not romantic, either - at least not in a traditional way) then you MUST be hinting that it’s time for our relationship to end.

I actually have a commitment – not romantic, and not one-on-one – tomorrow night, so it’s a non-issue for me. But when I get home? Sweats and the movie “Some Like It Hot” which opens in Chicago and includes reference to the massacre in question.

And maybe pizza.

And a beer.

Ah, romance!

To all those who also are not celebrating this martyr: You're welcome for the logical excuse.

Star Wars'ed Out

The fruit-basket that is my world was kind of upset this weekend, because I found out on Thursday – got the phone call while I was in the AT&T store, no less! – that my dad had a “mini” stroke. SOOoo…that was scary. Actually, I was totally freaked out that evening. He’s going to the neurologist today, so I’ll know more later I guess. So far it seems to have affected motor function on the right side, particularly his right arm/hand. Good news is his brilliant mind and off-beat sense of humor are unaffected.

Anyway, that kind of took me over for a while, and Star Wars seemed too trivial to write about. BUT, I know I promised a Star Wars assessment, so here it is:

I hadn’t figured on the whole “matinee-crowd” factor; as in: there’s no such thing as a “matinee crowd”. I got there early and got the perfect seat, right in the middle, and was gradually joined by maybe a dozen others. There were no costumes or other indications of Star-Wars-Mania…until I was leaving and saw a teenage Darth Maul heading in for the next showing!

As to the movie, it was worth seeing in 3D. Not all movies are worth it, but this one is. The light-saber fighting is pretty cool, actually. My earlier assessment of the podrace proved out. The explosions were pretty cool, and some of the racing through the tunnel-y landscape was neat, but basically all the profile shots and close-ups ruined the effects of the speed. The space-fight (blowing up the droid mother-ship) was better. There were several moments of vertigo for me that I had not anticipated, scattered throughout the film, on Coruscant and Tatooine.

Perhaps just because it’s back on the big-screen, but I noticed more detail, too. Of course, Darth Maul is and has always been the most Bad-a$$ of Bada$$es, but he really rocked in 3D. Wow. I think I’m going to join the dark side.

And now, after watching, watching, watching, I believe I’m Star Wars’ed-out! Never thought it would happen, and I’m sure it’s not permanent, but dude, really…enough for now!

I know this is short and boring, but I'm preoccupied with my dad and - oh by the way, did I tell you? - my alleged stalker right now, so not thinking so creatively. (Last week I was told I have a stalker, but apart from the guy being a little creepy, I don't feel endangered yet...just another thing to be on my mind.)

This is what “Sleep Deprived” looks like in my world…

Disclaimer: Opium Angry Birds and late nights out other events have conspired to remove sleep from my life these last few days, so I’m not 100% in control of my faculties, which may or may not include grammar or conceptual cognition. Please forgive, and return when I’m functioning!

Obviously, I’m going to the Star Wars:TPM [3-D] opening tomorrow, but due to a previous engagement later on, will almost certainly not be posting about the movie immediately afterward. I’m hoping that my later engagement – at which I know I will see at least two fellow Star Wars-nerds – will afford me the opportunity to dissect the movie enough that I can distill my thoughts down to a coherent post the next day. (hey that was pretty good grammar, right?)

I know.

You’re holding your breath.

Don’t. Knowing me it will turn into a high-minded, detail-oriented, technical film-critique and no fun to read at all. …then again that could be my current lack of brain-function talking.  (I’ll try to include some random mall-watching observations to lighten it up. There’s bound to be humor in a vast collection of sci-fi geeks!)

                                                                                        

Work diversion:

(shh…I shouldn’t be doing this now…)

One of the supervisors just came into my office where someone was working on a Valentine’s Day promotion and had heart-shaped stuff spread everywhere. He said, “Aww…Aren’t we full of heart today!” I said, “I usually spell ‘shit’ differently.” Somehow everyone cracked up... (possibly in part because I don't swear?) I didn’t know I was being funny. Anyway we’ve used “full of heart” a few times since then as a euphemism. Riot.

...come back next week for my thoughts on V-Day. [hint:it's not romantic]

Internet diversion:

WOW!!!

I just found out that one of my favorite authors (ever since the untimely demise of Douglas Adams) is coming out with his new book! The author: Christopher Moore. The new book: “Sacre Bleu” surrounds the mystery of Vincent Van Gogh’s death. Awe.Some. Who doesn't like Van Gogh? (you can read a chapter at chrismoore [dot]com.) Moore is the only author whose book tour I who I’ve visited I’ve seen live …wow, brain-dead me couldn’t grammar-out that he’s the only author …I mean, during a book-tour… I mean,who I’ve gone to …screw it. You know what I mean.

ANYhoo…he’ll be back at that same bookstore this April. During this current tour. coming up in April. Holy crap I need sleep... I may have to go see him again. He’s that good. I do love me some insanity! One glance at the photo in the book-jacket, and you can see Moore’s got the insanity.

**This is not a paid endorsement, nor do I think CM is aware that I am praising the book here. **

**and I'm not a psychologist, and am not making a clinical assessment of his sanity**

On an un-related note…

no wait, a TOTALLY-related-to-everything-I’m-writing note!...

I am SOO droopy-tired! I am going to crash so hard as soon as this workday ends I get home from work. But no, not really, because I have to go to the AT&T store to have them remove the virus I think my Android caught. Oh, and I’d better do some grocery-shopping so I don’t starve. Sleep-deprived and food-deprived would clearly signal the "intervention police" to remove the Opium Angry Birds from my phone.

…and I’ll probably have some Angry Birds to mess with, too.

…because that is now vital to my existence, so I’d best not fall asleep without the appropriate dosage.

…stupid Opium in my phone!

Angry Birds, a.k.a. The Opium App

Are you aware of this phenomenon called “Angry Birds”? I have many nieces and nephews – and a very trendy sister – so I’ve been aware of its existence possibly since its beginning. Never cared. SO not a gamer.

Cute idea though…haha…birds exacting revenge on pigs by flinging themselves from a sling-shot. I can see the attraction for a 10 year old!

I’ve had my smart-phone a month now, and have avoided games, unless you count Sudoku.

Yesterday I observed someone playing “papijump”, “papipole” and such, on their IPod-touch. These apps seemed easy to put down and pick up later – not based on levels or anything, so I thought that might be a nice diversion. I don’t have an IPod, but figure all smart-phones surely offer similar apps.

At bedtime I opened the App Store in all innocence to seek out a free, mindless diversion. One of the first things showing was Angry Birds. Little Angry Bird toys were the hit at family Christmas this year, and my 2yo nephew even imitates their birdy-noises, so I decided to download it and finally check it out – time to get this outdated Aunt back to today! (mwahahahahahaha...)

AN HOUR AND A HALF LATER… I finally put the phone down, turned off the light, curled into the fetal position and cried myself to sleep in the yearning to keep playing. Oh, my eyes: the burn of late-night phone-screen! Oh the lost sleep! Oh, the ache of not completing that level I finally bailed on! I want more, but can’t stay awake to take it! Boo-hoo, woe is me!

The game is just so cute! So harmless…cute little cartoon birdies, cute little round snorting piggies – who get black eyes if you wound but don’t “poof” them! …I’m sure they aren’t killed, they’re just poofed into another dimension. No game this cute could kill!

But I. Must. Finish. This. Level!

Have you played this? There’s like 30 levels on each level! And they’re quick, mostly, so it’s like winning at nickel-slots (I suppose). You win, win, win, (nickel, nickel, nickel) and suddenly you get stuck on one and REFUSE to abandon it knowing the payoff must come soon!

Oh the horror.

…credit where credit is due, I refused to allow myself to roll over this morning and call in late to work from the lost sleep. I do have some pride. That would be worse than calling in with a hangover! – which I’ve also never done, thankyouverymuch.

I read that Opium is immediately addictive. That taking it once means your body immediately requires it. Okay, well, that was presumably an exaggeration, but by all accounts it is highly addictive, compared to other drugs.

I fear that Angry Birds is the same. I can’t wait until I have time to attack that level again! Probably not until I fall into bed again at the end of the day. I’m not at the point of playing Angry Birds instead of eating though. When I get there, get me help!

on another note: 

(Celebrations today, for those needing a reason to bust out the champagne: Nirvana Day in the Buddhist world, Tu B’Shevat in the Jewish world, and John Williams’ 80^th birthday in the Star Wars world!)

Superbowl - Well, not really, but almost

Okay, I’ll do it. I’ll post about the Superbowl, since everyone else seems to be avoiding the elephant in the room.

Because here’s the thing – it seems that most of us (that I’ve read, anyway) in the blogosphere pride ourselves on our nerdiness. Myself included.

But here’s the other thing: I LOVE me some football! (American-style. What most of the world calls football, although appropriately named, is too tame and predictable for this random maniac.)…(Actually I think I would prefer a cricket match to soccer, just because it’s more confusing and therefore less predictable.)

But I digress…

I was raised with a high-school football star of a father, reliving his glory days whenever allowed. Although I’ve mentioned that my mom wouldn’t let him tell me all his teenage stories, football was okay, so in middle-school – since we lived overseas and American football was not readily available, my dad started having “chalk-talks” with me during summer vacations, reviewing plays and positions, and all that good stuff.

So by the time we came back to the States – to Chicago, the year they won Superbowl XX – I was well-versed in the sport and truly appreciated all the football I could ever watch. Frankly, I’m surprised more of my brainiac buddies aren’t in love with it. Football seems to me a thinking-man’s sport. The sheer variety of ways used to move the football down the field, the details of what makes a play illegal, and the to-the-untrained-eye seemingly capricious penalties applied could fill a book – oh wait. It does: The players’ handbook. (haha)

I’ve not watched football this year, though, for two reasons:

1.       Stupid players' union striking for more money during the off-season really put me off. Seriously? You need more money? In this economy? Ba$!ards. (sorry. I never swear. You know I don’t, but I could not think of a more appropriate clean term.)

2.       I decided to stop allowing my cable company to bleed me dry and cancelled my contract with them, which means I have no TV access at my house. It’s been a great experiment, and I was honestly most concerned about surviving football season, which I have now done, so Yea, me!

But the Superbowl is my favorite National Unofficial Holiday, so I had to party! I got together with the same friends as usual, and it was fun. Of course. Actually, I think I was more social this year because none of us really had a team in the game. As one person called it (based on the logos on the players’ helmets): “m&ms vs. the post office”! haha. Take a look at the Giants’ logo, and see if that isn’t the same font-type as m&ms! Hilarious.

I ate too much, but didn’t drink too much. Partly because I’d had a few earlier in the day, but mostly, I was just happy to be relaxing at a friend’s house because Sunday was insane for me - on the go until I arrived in her kitchen and offered pretend-assistance while munching on pita-chips and hummus while her hubby made some outstanding guacamole. Yum. I was glad the Giants won, mostly because they beat the Packers in the playoffs. The Packers, who suck with major cheese-loving suckage, but seemed to be winning a lot. I don’t hate any people, but I truly hate the Packers with an undying hatred that sears into my eyeballs and makes my hair bleed.

My dearly beloved brother is a Packer-backer. ...

I have to forgive him for this on a regular basis.

And he’s raising his son, my godson, into the cult.

Oh the shame of it.

Okay, so I didn’t really write about the Superbowl, just the cult of the NFL.

...and happy Waitangi Day, New Zealand! (I don't understand this holiday enough to write about it, but it's a big deal, so rock on!)

Me, the Movie Whore, or rather: Star Wars is Coming

Do you pay attention to the Oscars? I never used to, and then I did because for a while I lived near a friend who was a movie maniac threw the most AWESOME Oscar parties. (Seriously, I miss his parties.)

I’ve gotten away from it since I moved away from him and now have no need to be able to predict who will win what, and no money to go to all the movies. But lately I have been a MOVIE WHORE! That’s right, I’m selling my soul for vacuous entertainment and vast amounts of popcorn…and sometimes the popcorn is better than the movie. I credit my increasing time at the cinema with procrastination and general avoidance of the gym (read: laziness).

In 2012 I’ve already seen Sherlock 2, J Edgar, Tinker Tailor Soldier spy, One For The Money, and Mission Impossible. I’m averaging a movie a week! Insane. What a whore I am.

I had always wanted to see One For The Money because I read those books – Janet Evanovich is a guilty pleasure; she always makes me laugh. The other movies were all circumstantial. (I don’t recommend J Edgar or Tinker Taylor, fyi.)...(Not that you know me or my taste well enough to take my advice, so go anyway and let me know what you think, or if you’ve already seen one of them and loved it, let me know!)

I’ve been anticipating the Star Wars 3Ds (hello- obviously!...unless this is the first post of mine that you’ve read, in which case, read the one about my Blog Title and it will become obvious.), but until last night I did not know the opening date. I now know that it opens on the 10^th, on which evening I have a previous  VERY IMPORTANT engagement, but I have already requested that day off from work, SO…

After some annoyingly nitpicky web-searches, I have actually purchased – ONLINE, for the first time, thankyouverymuch – a ticket for the earliest showing within 40 miles of my location. I was shocked to see that my local theater doesn’t seem to be opening it on its opening night, because they love to do midnight-viewings of the huge releases i.e. on midnight of Thursday night, so technically Friday – the release date. But I’m not seeing it listed. If they do it, then I will just have to see it twice, I guess!

…Hmm…I was going to say something about NOT watching the Oscars this year, or about contemplating seeing The Artist as my next procrastination attempt, but well, Star Wars trumps all.

…also Hmm…I haven’t droned on about the Superbowl this year. And that’s this weekend. I’ll be watching, and rooting for the Giants not because I care about either team, but just because you have to choose one or the other!

(and I apologize for the vast sentences and odd grammar today. I actually purchased my ticket while I was composing this, so am probably on a bit of an adrenaline rush. I've also been eating dark chocolate peanut M&Ms, so am probably on a bit of a sugar-high.)

Pizza. Glorious Pizza!

I’m feeling pizza is in my future tonight.

Partly probably because I’m sitting here eating celery for lunch because I couldn’t think of food this morning.

Partly because I haven’t had pizza in at least 3 days and there are no more frozen jobbies in my freezer.

It’s times like this that I miss Chicago. Ooohhhhh….for some Chicago-style stuffed pizza. People on the east coast think “stuffed” means there’s a top crust. Au contraire, mon frère! Stuffed pizza Chicago style – and no, the Pizzeria Uno chains across the country are not true to the original - is baked in a deep pan, cheese on the bottom, sauce on the top, and a LOT of sauce. And takes an hour to bake.

A lot of the best (most popular/biggest) pizza places in Chicago will ship a frozen pizza to you, if you want to pay the $30 or $50 or whatever it is. Frankly, I’ll just yearn from afar for free.

Chicago is where I first had spinach on pizza. Or shrimp. If you are ever in the Chicago area, make a trip to Geppetto’s in Oak Park. It’s right on the border with Chicago, so it’s not like you’ll be delving deep into suburbia. Geppetto’s gives you your choice of crust – regular, wheat, beer, and they’ve probably added gluten-free by now – your choice of cheese – mm… provolone! – and such a long list of toppings. You like sausage? Be prepared to choose between several. Onions? White, red, green or Vidalia? Shrimp, Chicken, Turkey, Beef, whatever meat you like. Oh, so many choices.

>Sigh<. Seriously. Worth. The. trip. And if your date doesn’t like pizza, they have a full-on Italian menu, and a kickin’ salad/soup/bread bar.

***Geppetto’s did not ask me to write this, nor pay me, nor probably even know that this blog exists.***

I’ve lived out east for 15 years or so, so I’ve grown accustomed to other pizza alternatives, but no one – I mean NO one will ever get me to do that disgusting New York style, greasy, fold your slice in half pizza. Blech. Gross.

I’ve learned to appreciate white pizza – just not all the time.

I’ve learned that I like sauce that’s a little sweet.

I’ve learned the joys of jalapenos on my pizza!

And since “artisan” pizzas are coming in vogue, I’ve found more options to try.

I have my favorite places to get pizza in the area, and will hit one of those tonight. But man, I’m feeling homesick for Chicago today! Oh, for a big, fat slice of Giordano’s stuffed pizza with spinach.

(teehee…you hungry yet?)