happy birthday marton csokas

You sexy thang.

writhing

I am in pain. Here's a list of the parts of my body that hurt. I'm interested in seeing how many there are, too.

1.) My head. Apparently because of a sinus headache because after Stephanie left, my cold really kicked in. I take Motrin to relieve the pain. Shame it doesn't really work on the other parts.

2.) My knees. I swear yesterday my left knee hurt more. Today it is the right. It is so difficult and painful to walk. I wish I had a wheelchair. I think it has something to do with my lying in bed all the time. Due to pain and boredom. In addition, I think my legs hurt because this chair I am sitting on at my desk has the most awkward seat. It is raised in the front, and with my short legs my feet do not lay flat against the ground. By the way, it hurts to go up and down stairs.

3.) My heels. I can't really explain this one, but I think it has something to do with my sandals that I wear everywhere. I know what you're thinking, just stop wearing the sandals. But the damage is done.

4.) My left wrist. It hurts the most whenever I wake up. What do I do in my sleep?

That might be it.

happy birthday cake?

I just had a little bit of the birthday cake ice cream made by a popular brand available in stores. (You know me, I'm not going to advertise.) Doesn't even compare to the same flavor as developed by Bruster's (oops!). This version tasted like cotton candy. When I took my first bite to determine whether or not I wanted to continue scooping it, I yelped, "Eew! Gross!" But I ended up realizing it was edible, just not that good.

Beware of the mass-produced birthday cake flavor ice cream.

you say valet, i say valet

I hadn't really watched a full episode of "The Late Late Show with Craig Ferguson" (2005-present) in a long time before Monday night. Flipping through the on-screen TV Guide description of that day's show, I saw that he was going to have Timothy Spall on. I stuck around but instead it was Tina Brown. Promoting yet another book about Lady Di. Yeah, so I was disappointed. I am a fan of Spall's work, and to see him be interviewed on an American late-night chat show would have been, in the very least, interesting.

Last night, I was up round that time again. I saw instead that Tina Brown was listed as one of Craig's guests. I figured they must have done a switch-a-roo, so I stuck around to see Craig and Tim chitchat about Pierrepoint: The Last Hangman (2007). (Craig first interviewed Janeane Garofalo because she voices a character in Ratatouille [2007], but they failed to talk about how she put on Colette's French accent, a conversation I would have found interesting.)

In any case, I was left disappointed again. I imagine most of Craig's audience doesn't know who the fuck Tim is, and I would have preferred a conversation that consisted of more than just their discussing how Tim's actor-son Rafe, many years ago, accused Craig of stealing all the good chicken meat when Tim invited Craig to dinner at his family's house. What a cute anecdote they have, but really that doesn't educate anyone--including myself--about Tim as an actor. By the way, they spent a fair bit of time talking about Rafe--how he's come into his own as a supposedly handsome actor--but never once called him by name.

For the record, too, it's pronounced "Pier point." Not like the French. Crazy Brits.

yeah right

If you thought I was going to write a proper post, then you are sorrily mistaken.

i didn't consent to this

I just saw a commercial for the new wireless network. Instead of giving you the name of the company, I will just say that the one that was absorbed into the other lost its name but kept the Tucci. In any case, they used the instrumental of "Age of Consent." Made me cry. Not because the commercial was good, but because one of my favorite New Order songs was used in a commercial.

deja vu

Right now, I have "Not Your Average Travel Guide" (2007-present) on. The host is in London. He's doing everything I did with Stephanie in London. He's gone to the British Museum and looked at the Rosetta Stone and the Egyptian mummies. He's gone to Buckingham Palace, but I admit he at least saw the changing of the guard. He's gone to the Portabello Road street market. He's gone to the Tate Modern. He's gone to the pub to tap into that culture [pun intended]. But I must say he said something that offended me. He said that going to the pub is "a very London thing." Right. Only people in London go to the pub. And what about the title of the show? This is the most average travel guide! And no, I've never pretended that Stephanie and I went off the beaten path while in London.

And to introduce Indian food, he interviews people on the street about how multicultural the London population is. Of course that isn't inaccurate. It's just, I've heard this before. I've experienced it myself. Combined, all of this constitutes the first time anything on the Travel Channel--aside from the shows that profile Disney World--has just regurgitated something I have already done.

Let's hope it continues.

all the news that's fit to print

I now know how to copy.

ink out the prejudice

I have been meaning to blog about this since Tuesday, when the third season of "Miami Ink" (2005-present) premiered. I have watched the show that follows the day-to-day of a tattoo parlor in Miami pretty much since its beginning. It profiles those who do the intricate designs--the five artists on staff--and those who walk in requesting them. Like any show that has a cast of colorful characters (seriously, no pun intended), I have a favorite. But that is neither here nor there.

Having established how far back I go with Ami, Chris N., Chris G., Darren, and Yogi (I miss Kat!), I must address something else about my relationship with the show. I dread the instances when my father may walk in on me watching it. I know. I feel like one of those kids who's embarrassed to be caught enjoying a porno. "Miami Ink" is no porno. It's just because every time my father sees the tattooed individuals, his voice has an immediate and very noticeable volume increase. He sort of whines, threatens to change the channel, and chastises me for wanting to watch the show because he finds tattoos appalling. I guess it doesn't help that long ago, I told him Stephanie and I were considering getting tattoos. (Oh, about that: I have since changed my mind, but not forever.)

I watch the show because, let's face it, it's ethnography. You hear the stories behind the tattoos, people's reasons for wanting to permanently mark their bodies. In this way, the show works to humanize the tattoo, which is an artform, I might add. The tattoo traditionally has been associated with "low-class," "dangerous," and maybe even "delinquent." Thus it once was taboo to have or even know someone who had a tattoo. Only recently has this perception of tattoos--and of those who wear them--changed. I wonder if the show is a part of this movement (for lack of a better word) or if the show is just jumping on the bandwagon of the tattoo being seen as acceptable, respectable, and admirable. And art.

The show even went so far in the opener to the third season to subvert another convention. An active 80-year-old woman who lives on her own went into the shop and asked for an "A" on her shoulder because her name is Annie. Her reason is a little bit wacky (with hurricane season coming, she says, she wants to make sure her body can be identified should anything happen to her), but she said that she has always wanted a tattoo. She doesn't care if her peers don't like it. To make a long story short, her "A" was more than just an "A." Ami added some color to it, red floating into yellow or yellow floating into red. She wanted some pizazz. So old people can get tattoos. I've seen old people with tattoos. Just reminds you they once were young.

A blind man even got a tattoo. An actor, he chose the masks of comedy and tragedy because that is what life is: a mixture of both. He brought along his daughter to act as his eyes, to judge whether or not the design was good, was placed properly on his body, and if it turned out well. His reasoning behind getting a tattoo was: Why should he not get a tattoo, even if he can't see it? He can't see a lot of things; how is this any different? Of course his oral narrative was much more eloquently put. I'm paraphrasing from memory here. From Tuesday, mind you.

So, no matter how much my father bitches and scritches, I will continue to watch the show. I won't let him change the channel. I will continue to try to convince my dad that tattoos are not disgusting. There's a story behind every one. And besides the joke of a man waking up with "Casey" engraved on his arm and his not knowing any Casey, there usually is a lot of thought that goes into the design process. Just watch the show and you'll see.

i miss my english life already

Today was the first time I actually shopped in a grocery store since coming back. Because Stephanie was here for almost two weeks when I arrived, we ate out a lot and did take-away. I miss that; now that she's gone, I can only hope for a dining out event once a week. I didn't really want to go grocery shopping today. On our way into the store, I said to my father, "I hate this place. I have never liked going to the grocery store, but I didn't hate Sainsbury's. Probably because I would go to the movies before going shopping every time." He didn't know what Sainsbury's was, even though I talk about it an awful lot. But that is neither here nor there.

I'm writing about my first real trip to the grocery store because I experienced some pretty strong counter shock. It took longer than expected because I had to find things, and I didn't know where they were. This is not because I forgot. It's because that store must rearrange their stock all the time. I didn't know my way round it before I left, and I worked there at that time!

It also took forever because I couldn't find foods of as high quality as I would in England. Especially cheddar cheese. Which makes sense since cheddar cheese comes from England, but still. I was so afraid I would have to buy American.

But this is what was most shocking to find out: most of the foods I bought were cheaper in England, even with the conversion rate! For example, at Sainsbury's I would buy three kilos of pasta for 62p. I bought a one-pound bag of pasta for $1.29. The two pints of milk I would buy in England every week cost me only 66p. I bought a quart of milk today for $1.89. The bread is cheaper in England. The salami, too.

Where in the beginning of my tenure in England I couldn't help but double the prices of everything I saw, today I took just as much time to examine the price. But only this time I spent the time trying to find a cheaper, legitimate alternative. I could sometimes, but not all. The in-house brand just isn't as good as that of Sainsbury's. God, I sound like a fuckin' advertisement.

Our cashier looked familiar to me, but I couldn't place her until hours later. When I realized that she once was a bagger and often worked with me because I was a cashier there last summer. I hated that ill-paying job, so don't expect me to don that uniform anytime soon.

bor-ring

I can't believe this. I had all day to post something longer than a few lines, something with some actual substance. I suppose this is the reason why one should never write daily in a blog. You end up writing about nothing at the very end of the day because you're too tired, even if something worth writing about has happened.

But I like to keep my promises.