Sometimes I think that universal Spellcheck is the work of the devil, because I'm convinced that it's slowly but ever-so-surely stealing my obviously god-given gift for arranging letters into words. (That last sentence was so tongue-in-cheek that I think I may have bitten said tongue, a little bit.)

I've spent the last 5 minutes staring intently at the word "business," convinced that this is not, in fact, the proper spelling, the letters jumbling themselves into gibberish - not unlike my preschoolers, who say a word over and over until it has completely lost all meaning. My main confusion lay in the fact that "business" is so obviously "busy-ness" - being engaged in activity, full of clutter. "Busyness" should not be a real word - its mere appearance betrays its innate clumsiness. And yet that is the accepted spelling, and "business" is assigned to describe staring down the barrel of a gun or that errand you have to take care of during lunch. Maybe it's no coincidence that "business" should really be pronounced "busyness"? How do words mirror their creator's outlook on the world? When do they start taking on a life of their own?

The Third Tier of Eating Alone

THE FIRST TIER: "I always eat at home because I live alone, but every night is different, depending on the day's events. The best, most desirable dinners start with an early arrival home and groceries in the fridge already. I grill a chop, make a salad, cook a favorite vegetable, or bake a potato. I'm in front of the TV in time for The Closer."

THE SECOND TIER: "When I'm tired and sad, I make a fried egg sandwich with Pepperidge Farm's very thin white bread and watch reruns of Law and Order."

THE THIRD TIER: "I eat a pint of chocolate ice cream and watch whatever's on."

-from What We Eat When We Eat Alone

Last night, I'm ashamed to say that I found myself staring down the remains of a smallish flourless chocolate cake that a coworker insisted on giving me (yesterday), even though I vainly protested that I could not be trusted to be left alone with such a creation. I saw that it had been processed in a facility that also deals with wheat, but since that type of contamination rarely bothers me, and I had worked 11 hours on 600 calories...I lost my mind over that cake, a little bit. Today I am ache-y and full of remorse.

I'm reading a book called What We Eat When We Eat Alone. It's making me think a lot about eating rituals and the self-respect it takes to put as much effort into cooking for yourself as you do when you cook for others. A level of self-love that I, quite simply, have not yet attained. Though I did make some delicious chili last week, the rest of the time it's cereal, yogurt, frozen vegetables and peanut butter from the jar. Every once in awhile a rotisserie chicken from the grocery store. Or Greek yogurt and peanut butter for an apple dip.

What do you eat when you eat alone? Is it your time to eat combinations you feel others would balk at? Do you go the single girl route of the jar and the spoon? Or do you take the time to create a dining experience for yourself, whether that experience be a box of mac & cheese (served with no remorse) or a salad and steak combo? Do you eat at your table or curl up in bed? I think eating alone might be one of the most intensely private rituals we have - what does your ritual say about your relationship with yourself, and with food?

It's seems only natural, OR, In which I attempt to return to blogging

Exclamation and Colon Musicals, Part Two

Gutenberg! The Musical! was written and composed by Scott Brown and

Anthony King, who also wrote this:

This has been one of my favorite things for almost three years. 

Improv Everywhere always brings me much happiness.

And of course, the (most recent) newest thing in colon musicals:

Freaknik -- For The Win. Thank you, T-Pain.

multifarious beauties

This is hand-cut from cardboard, if you can believe it. I really want one.

I've been drowning myself in tea this weekend, but not chamomile - apparently daisies and ragweed are related, so I'm allergic. But doesn't it look soothing?

A 1999 production of Un ballo in maschera on Lake Constance in Bregenz, Austria.

a flutterby of theatrical spoonerisms:

Slips of the tongue are often made on the stage, even by the most prominent actors and actresses. Mrs. Langtry at one performance said to her stage lover, ‘Let us retire and seek a nosey cook.’

An actor at the Queen’s Theatre, Manchester, turned ‘Stand back, my lord, and let the coffin pass’ into, ‘Stand back, my lord, and let the parson cough.’ …

A well-known actor who has often been applauded by New York theater-goers, in one of his speeches intended to say, ‘Royal bold Caesar,’ but forgot himself in his excitement and said, ‘Boiled rolled Caesar, I present thee with my sword.’

– John De Morgan, In Lighter Vein, 1907

The best case for vampires *I've* ever heard:

I realize that this post is a blatant contradiction to one of the ground rules I set in my very first blog post: NO vampires. Oh well. Lent is for rule-breaking, yes?

An excerpt from Margot Adler's NPR article (referring to America's on-again, on-again relationship with vampires):

"Maybe it gets back to that very American notion that we have laws and constitutions to keep our baser instincts in check. New York Times columnist Ross Douthat wrote recently: "We are beasts with self-consciousness, predators with ethics, mortal creatures who yearn for immortality."

Exactly. Maybe that's why vampires aren't really a fad. Because — except for that all-but-immortal thing — they really are us."

I think this makes perfect sense. For some reason, I've been thinking a lot about human instincts vis-à-vis appetite recently: appetite for food (mainly in relation to carnivorism) and appetite for pleasure (mainly in relation to sex). I think that we human beings, at least in more technologically developed countries, have become such cerebral creatures that we rarely remember that humans were once subject to a vastly different, much more physical, lifestyle, and it is only when we find ourselves giving into or being held captive by our baser ("base" in the sense of being "a basic or underlying element"), more carnal, instincts, that we harken back to our beastly, predatory history...and fall in love with vampires?

Lento

So, I'm in a bit of a dilemma. I'm in the habit of giving something up for Lent, and while I can't pretend that I always give things up with the purest of intentions (it's probably more a test of my self-will than a testament of my faith), I'm a big fan of conscientious efforts toward self-improvement via sacrifice.

However, since I'm currently in a committed relationship with gluten and caffeine-free living and also flirting with life sans dairy, yeast, and refined sugar, I feel as though further dietary restrictions might lead to starvation, or at the very least, intense boredom. And even though I have plenty of other bad habits that should probably be given up, at least for a little while (digital distractions, excessive decapitalization, trashy TV), I realize that I tend to lean maybe a little too much toward the self-deprivating side, and that giving up something else, even for 40 days, might not be the best choice (at least this year).

So. I'm breaking with tradition. (Probably not an acceptable thing to do with traditions that have religious undertones, but roll with me. Besides, people add good things into their life for Lent all the time - exercising, spiritual "me" time, etc. This is just a little more...secular.) Instead of deleting something from my life, I'm going to add an important ingredient that I've been sorely lacking: knowledge of generation-defining, pop culture-reference-making, movies.

I grew up on Disney movies, musicals from the '50s and '60s and the occasional current blockbuster. Still,  I didn't see Titanic until 1999, and I only saw Twister in the theaters because they filmed in my driveway and my aunt's cornfield. Somewhere along the way, I missed out on seeing these movies (as well as Star Wars, The Princess Bride, A Fish Called Wanda, and Jurassic Park - [I just saw these movies for the first time this year!]):

**Men in Black**Pretty Woman**Best in Show**

**The Sting**Ghostbusters**Pretty in Pink**

**Sixteen Candles**Wet Hot American Summer**

**Philadelphia Story**Big**The Godfather**

**Back to the Future(s)**Sister Act I**

**Breaking Away**Chariots of Fire**Moonstruck**

**The Shawshank Redemption**12 Angry Men**

**The Usual Suspects**Terminator(s) 1&2**

**Indiana Jones(es)**Batman Begins**Die Hard**

**Manhattan**In Bruges**Good Will Hunting**

**Ghost**Boys Don't Cry**Weekend at Bernie's**

**The Matrix**Dancing with Wolves**

**This is Spinal Tap**The Graduate**Field of Dreams**

**Almost Famous**Edward Scissorhands**Blues Brothers**

Now, obviously this is only a partial list (compiled with the help of Beth and Jeni), and our individual prejudices and preferences have to be taken into account, but I think this will be more than enough to get me started. There are 37 movies on this list - my goal is to have watched at least 20 of them by Easter. Because after my recital is over, what else am I going to have to do with my life?(!)

Happy Valentine's Day.

Happy Chinese New Year.

Happy Anna Howard Shaw Day.

Happy Ferris Wheel Day.

Happy 3rd Day of the Olympics.

Happy 14th Day of February.

Happy 2nd Sunday of February.

Today, I am celebrating all of the blessings in my life, which include the fact that I am still dancing in fields of infinite possibilities. I hope that you can say the same.

Three Things

I know that I've been a huge blogslacker (I believe that's pronounced [bløʒ ʃla kə]) as of late, and I actually have two new posts percolating at the moment, but considering the hour, I suppose it's best if I just jot down a few fleeting thoughts before bed: 

**I'm really depending on the macaroon to become the new cupcake, for a few important reasons: I'm moving to the big city soon, and it's always been my understanding that a major part of big-city-living is based around the consumption of the current trendy dessert and the subsequent comparison of trendy dessert establishments. (Granted, I learned this from Sex and the City, but even Liz Lemon does it, so I know it's real.) And unlike cupcakes, macaroons are naturally glutenfrei, which means that I won't have to miss out on an opportunity for ironic trendiness or pay $.70 more for my glutenless cake ($7.70 more if I'm buying by the dozen(!)...though if I ever buy a dozen cupcakes for myself, it will be a sad, sad day already). Still, I wouldn't mind buying gluten-free cupcakes sold out of a truck for $3.25 on Tuesdays. Maybe someday there'll be some sort of macaroon speakeasy? Where they sell the peanut butter and jelly/hamburger/bathtub gin ones?

Now it's 2:15 a.m., and all I want is a cupcake. I have a pretty strong feeling that I'll be visiting here shortly after my arrival in the Windy City. so.pretty.

**I watched the Opening Ceremony of the 2010 Winter Olympic Games tonight and was pretty much on the verge of tears throughout the entire three hours. Even when you consider the overwhelming amount of international fraternity, references to recent tragedy/past glories and aboriginal dancing that made up at least 96% of the ceremony, that kind of emotional display is pretty unusual for me, so I sent out a text to some of my closest friends that read: "I'm tearing up (in a good way) whilst watching the opening ceremony of the Olympics...what is wrong with me?!" I think that the responses I received say a lot about the special relationship I share with each of them: 1) Ur the bomb. 2)The olympics are epic even if u don't like sports. It's just emotional. The end. 3) You're a fag.

**I wish that I had $65 to spend on pillowcases. If I did, I would buy these.

Operatic Cereal Montage

when there's nothing left to burn, you have to set yourself on fire

God, that was strange to see you again

Introduced by a friend of a friend

Smiled and said "Yes, I think we've met before"

In that instant it started to pour.

Captured a taxi despite all the rain

We drove in silence across Pont Champlain

And all of the time you thought I was sad

I was trying to remember your name...

This scar is a fleck on my porcelain skin

Tried to reach deep but you couldn't get in

Now you're outside me

You see all the beauty

Repent all your sin

It's nothing but time and a face that you lose

I chose to feel it and you couldn't choose

I'll write you a postcard

I'll send you the news

From a house down the road, from real love...

Live through this, and you won't look back...

Live through this, and you won't look back...

Live through this, and you won't look back...

There's one thing I want to say, so I'll be brave

You were what I wanted

I gave what I gave

I'm not sorry I met you

I'm not sorry it's over

I'm not sorry there's nothing to save

I'm not sorry there's nothing to save... 

Short-cuts to happiness

I've said it before, and I'll say it again: I want to have Gene Kelly's babies. Just watch. Around 2:18, you'll understand.

P.S. After weeks and weeks of conflicts, I'm finally starting my tap class, and I couldn't be more excited. I'm coming off of a two-year hiatus, but 

tapping on roller-skates is my ultimate goal. That and perfecting my 

double pullbacks, wings, paradiddles and over-the-tops.

I don't think I'll ever get tired of watching this. The kid in the orange shirt 

is insane, and it's totally unexpected - Eli Porter style.

Apparently this happened at Millikin this year during a performance of The Seagull. Someone switched out the shots of water for shots of vodka, as a prank. During a performance. Silly Germans. Silly undergraduates.

\ˈfre-nə-mē\

The month of February and I have a complicated relationship. And by complicated, I mean that I think it's the worst month of the year, and it thinks that I'm an overly-judgmental sourpuss (and, let's be honest - at least when it comes to this subject, that's true). But I think that there are some pretty compelling arguments for this opinion: 1) the weather, which was great in December, is now just more of the same, 2) the emotional toll that comes from four months of Vitamin D shortage, 3) the cabin fever and 4) the lack of celebrations/major holidays (I realize that February is Black History Month, as well as the month of the Super Bowl, President's Day, and yes, I'll say it, Valentine's Day, but you have to admit that these holidays either appeal to a pretty specific demographic or clock in at about the same thrill level as Earth Day.) 

To be completely honest, a lot of my animosity toward February stems from the fact that winter intensifies Celiac symptoms, so I've spent the majority of my last two Februaries on vocal rest, not eating, drinking apple cider vinegar, being shunted from specialist to specialist, feeling like I was sleep-walking through each day and conserving energy by spending weekends in bed watching 16-hour marathons of America's Next Top Model.

But February 2010 is going to be different. I've been gluten-free for almost a year (!), and I've decided to make an honest attempt to patch things up with February. While we'll probably never be BFF's, I think that we should at least be frenemies. So I got all dressed up to honor its first day and eagerly awaited February's first major holiday, Candlemas, or as it's more commonly known - Groundhog Day.  

I really thought that Groundhog Day was going to help jumpstart the healing process - it's got quirk, a strange, furry, animal mascot, a classic movie, and plenty of opportunity for its participants to be ironically aware of the ridiculous premise of the day - and I love all of those things (especially quirk and ironic awareness)! 

So I went to the official Punxsutawney Groundhog Day website (www.groundhog.org) to get the scuttlebutt on the holiday and on Phil, the world's foremost celebrity groundhog. I was expecting a few references to the Bill Murray movie, some history, maybe a list of traditional Groundhog Day funtivities, a few pictures of Phil and his shadow - you know, the [juʒ]. Instead, there were some creepy guys in top hats, a plus-size groundhog, and this confusing FAQ section:

**"How often is Phil's prediction correct? 100% of the time, of course!"

That...doesn't seem right. (In reality, Phil has been right somewhere between 25% and 39% of the time.) 

**"How many 'Phils' have there been over the years? There has only been one Punxsutawney Phil. He has been making predictions for over 120 years!"

Well, now Phil's record doesn't seem so bad - 39% over 120 years is pretty impressive. But I have to ask - what kind of crazy wellness plan is Phil on (considering that the average groundhog lives 10 years in captivity)?

**"Punxsutawney Phil gets his longevity from drinking the 'elixir of life,' a secret recipe. Phil takes a sip every summer at the Groundhog Picnic, and it magically gives him seven more years of life."

Ok, now this is just getting weird. Immortal jellyfish? Yes. Vampires that live forever? Sure. An immortal rodent that apparently has a monopoly on Ponce de Leon's magical punch fountain? Um...sorry 'boutcha.

**"After Phil emerges from his burrow on February 2nd, he speaks to the Groundhog Club president in 'Groundhogese' (a language only understood by the current president of the Inner Circle). His proclamation is then translated for the world."

I'm not sure I understand. Can't they figure out whether or not Phil sees his shadow without having a conversation? Should Phil's reputation for inaccuracy actually be blamed on the incompetency of the various presidents of the Inner Circle? Are they just really terrible at translating 'Groundhogese'? Or do groundhogs actually have a natural gift for weather-forecasting, but Phil is just messing with us, because some creepsters with beards and top hats are babbling at him in a made-up language while he should still be hibernating?

**"For the first time ever, Punxsutawney Phil to text his Groundhog Day prediction!"

Ooooh. Color me intrigued. And I have to give kudos to Phil - not many 120+ year-old groundhogs bother to learn to text! AND he's a poet - the confirmation text I received read, "You are so in the know it is like being in the burrow!"

This post originally was going to include a manual for celebrating Groundhog Day properly. I just can't do it - frankly, this holiday creeps me out. But I'm not giving up on February just yet - there are plenty of other things to look forward to, like: longer days, the promise of spring, umm... quirkyalone Day (by the way, I scored 118, which apparently makes me "very quirkyalone. I may not be romancing a single person, but I am romancing the world."), National Tooth Fairy Day...

I guess there's always the extra 'r' in 'February' - I think that's lovely. And most importantly, there are only 27 days left.

Thank goodness for the Olympics.

Inventory

New posts coming soon! For now, please enjoy some obsessively specific pop-culture lists.

10 Things The Ramones Wanna or Don't Wanna Do:

**Walk around with you ("I Don't Want to Walk Around With You")**

**Go down in the basement ("I Don't Wanna...To The Basement")**

**Be your boyfriend ("I Wanna Be Your Boyfriend")**

**Be a good boy ("Now I Wanna Be A Good Boy")**

**Be sedated ("I Wanna Be Sedated")**

**Be well ("I Wanna Be Well")**

**Sniff some glue ("Now I Wanna Sniff Some Glue")**

**Grow up ("I Don't Wanna Grow Up")**

**Have something to do ("I Just Want To Have Something To Do")**

**Live ("I Wanna Live")**

10 Things We'll Forever Associate with The Simpsons

**Planet of the Apes, particularly Dr. Zaius**

"I hate every ape I see/from chimpan-A to chimpanzee/no, you'll never make a monkey out of me!"

**Pablo Neruda**

Lisa: "Pablo Neruda said, 'Laughter is the language of the soul."

Bart: "I am familiar with the works of Pablo Neruda."

**Theme Restaurants**

Marge: "An alligator wearing sunglasses?...Street signs? Indoors? Ha ha! Whatever!

**Eudora Welty**

Krusty: "Let's get going. I've got a date with Eudora Welty. [Loud offscreen belch.] Coming, Eudora!"

**Arnold Schwarzenegger**

Rainier Wolfcastle: "My new movie is me, standing in front of a brick wall for 90 minutes. It cost  $80 million to make.

**Meaningless Awards Shows**

Joe Frazier: "Webster's Dictionary defines excellence as 'the state or condition of being excellent.' And now, the winner of the First Annual Montgomery Burns Award For Outstanding Achievement in the Field of Excellence..."

**Secret Societies Like The Masons**

Lenny: "You put that sticker on your car so you won't get any tickets. And this other one keeps paramedics from stealing your wallet while they're working on you."

Carl: "Oh, and don't bother calling 911 any more...Here's the real number."

**"Baby On Board" Signs**

Marge: "Look what I got! Now people will stop intentionally ramming our car!"

**A Streetcar Named Desire**

Marge: "I just don't see why Blanche should shove a broken bottle in Stanley's face. Couldn't she just take his abuse with gentle good humor?"

**purple. monkey. dishwasher.**

"may it not be tricksy"

you shall above all things be glad and young For if you're young,whatever life you wear it will become you;and if you are glad whatever's living will yourself become. Girlboys may nothing more than boygirls need: i can entirely her only love whose any mystery makes every man's flesh put space on;and his mind take off time that you should ever think,may god forbid and (in his mercy) your true lover spare: for that way knowledge lies,the foetal grave called progress,and negation's dead undoom. I'd rather learn from one bird how to sing than teach ten thousand stars how not to dance ~E.E. Cummings

Doppelgänger, Darwin and ... Crayolas

This week is Doppelgänger Week on The Book of Faces, and it's raised a few important questions: 

1. Does Christopher Walken have a Facebook account?
2. Does Christopher Walken know that he bears an uncanny resemblance to that Second Viennese School hunk, Alban Berg?
   

I'm pretty sure that the answer to Question #1 is a resounding 'no' (Though my preliminary research did lead me to some amazing things, including a Facebook page for an event planning service called "Asians doing Christopher Walken Impressions."). As for Question #2, I'd wager that CW remains blissfully unaware of the fact that he is the doppelgänger of a dead Austrian composer. Nevertheless, I submit these photos for your evaluation:

 

And now it's time for one of my favorite games: Caption This Profile Pic! (though I doubt the subjects of these pictures actually have profile pics, so this round should probably just be called Caption this Pic!, but that just sounds ridiculous.) Anyway, The Picture Show recently featured a new book called Darwin's Camera, by Phillip Prodger. Apparently, Darwin's Expression of the Emotions in Man and Animals was "the first photographically illustrated science book ever published." However, the pictures weren't taken by Darwin, they were done by Oscar Rejlander, a pioneer in Victorian photography/notorious for his erotic photographs of children/real-life chums with Charles Lutwidge Dodgson (better known as writer/mathematician/fellow nudey-photo enthusiast Lewis Carroll). And some of them are hilarious.

There are some really ridiculous hair styles in some renderings that I didn't include, because Darwin had those drawn from the photos of Guillaume Duchenne de Boulogne, who used electrical currents to study and photograph the facial expressions of his patients, and they're just absolutely terrifying and heartwrenching. Like this one: 

But all the other pictures are fair game, so start captioning! These pictures also reminded me that I really want to see this movie.

And now for something a little more bright and cheery:

Did you know that at the current rate of Crayola color expansion (an increase of 2.56% per year), by the year 2050, there could very well be 330 crayons in an average box of crayons? Well, that's not good enough for Christian Faur, who has assembled these amazing pieces using more than 100,000 hand cast crayons of varying colors and shades!

Here's what a close-up of his work looks like: