rediscovering the strokes.

Every once and a while I come across things that I missed out on because I was Mormon. I say "because I was Mormon" but I really mean "because I had what I felt was a really good excuse to be uptight and obnoxious."  


Anyways, my high school boyfriend liked The Strokes. We spent a lot of time driving around in his Mom's black Pontiac Grand Prix listening to The Strokes really loud. It bugged the shit out of me. The distortion, at such a high volume, provoked comments like "I can't feel The Spirit with this music so loud."  I was very good at feeling The Spirit while making out or watching rated R movies, but god, that rock and roll!


I know. Seriously.  More than Mormonism, it was an early response to what would become a presumably lifelong problem of dating guys who lord their superior musical taste over me in this form of really annoying auditory patriarchy that makes me want to do irresponsible things like listen to Celine Dion.


So last night I was listening to The Strokes' new single with a friend (like that past boyfriend, another musically inclined, blonde haired, blue eyed guy- types, much?) and it hit me that in my Mormonness, in my resistance to my boyfriend's taste, I had missed out on something. And yep, it turns out that The Strokes are pretty good. Especially in relation to so much of the indie stuff that's out today-- they've got body, they've sincere, they've got buoyancy, and in light of a lot of the crap we were listening to at the turn of the century, they've proven pretty durable. 


This time around, I am the one turning the music up.

is it getting hot in here or is it just me.

It's almost that time of the year again! Yay for Mad Men!



I'm just glad I'll have something to fill the tv-sized hole in my heart left by the BBC. It's hard to see how I'll live without Inside Nature's Giants, Casualty, and Eastenders*. Maybe I'll start a PhD program so I'll have something to do...

*can somebody tell me if the BBC player works outside the UK? I have a feeling the Christian & Said plotline won't be resolved on Eastenders before I leave! If it does work, though, you can watch the whole season of Casualty before the finale next Sunday! It is so good!

the internet plays into my hand yet again, providing me an excuse to post photos of dolph lundgren.

No, really, I have a legitimate excuse for doing this.

Really, I do.


I'll get to it in just a second.


I promise.


Just one more.


Ha, got ya!


Ok, for reals this time.

(that last one was just to see if you were paying attention)

Dolph Lundgren made the news today.

the perfect man.

OMG, this is my 400th post. I'm guessing you're feeling 400 times the fun.

Because My Mom is Cooler Than Your Mom, she sent me Iron Man, one of the greatest movies of our time, in the mail today. In the case that My Mom is Your Mom, well you got to visit last fall and I didn't. Love ya Big Bro.

Anyways, Iron Man is, in my humble opinion (but as this is my self-indulgent blog, the only opinion that truly matters) the best of the superhero movies to date. Granted I haven't seen either of the Hulk movies and really, the new Superman was not even worth of remembering, but surely everyone recognizes Batman and Spiderman, by virtue of their prodigious sequels, as franchises embodying the best of the superhero genre. However, when it comes to the complete vision of masculinity, the twenty-first century man, Iron Man is it. Succinctly, one could say that Batman is kind of a douche, Peter Parker struggles with basic morality and both are fueled by revenge. This is not the kind of man that the modern woman wants.

Yah, wants. It's like you think that doesn't matter, but really, doesn't the superhero answer to his woman? Isn't Peter Parker all about Mary Jane? Wasn't Rachel getting blown up the saddest part of The Dark Knight? The superhero lives for his woman, he is the sum of his parts, blah blah blah, bob loblaw. Call it heteronormative, but how women see the superhero is extremely important. This my friends, is where I can offer you some perspective.

What I'm suggesting is that the Iron Man represents the ideal. In no particular order, here's why:

1. He's rich. Yah, in real life nobody cares, but Pepper gets paid enough to wear Louboutins. I'm all for bohemian poverty but you can't say that those sweet views of the ocean aren't nice.

2. Speaking of which, design savvy. Iron Man has the most beautiful living room ever-- my favorite that I've seen on film since Jackie Treehorn's in The Big Lebowski.

3. He's hot. Again, one of those things that you like to pretend doesn't matter, but let's all enjoy a moment in silence, just thinking about what a fox Robert Downey Jr. is now that he's given up tranny prostitutes in favor of fitness. I mean really. RDJ will be hotter as Sherlock Holmes than anyone ever imagined. Even if he does have crazy eyes.

4. He's cocky. The character of Tony is setup at the beginning of the movie as a total player. Say what you will, but that kind of confidence matters. None of that reluctant Peter Parker business.

5. Makes sacrifices for business for the common good. Everyone likes a team player. And he reforms. Women love a changed man who has learned a lesson or two.

6. He's smart. Honestly, the best bit of the whole movie? "I know the math," he says to Jarvis as he defies his own limitations to propel himself into the air during that final battle at the end. This requires no further explanation because it is the hottest line ever spoken in all of the movies. "I know the math." Sweet jesus.

7. Respects Pepper because she is smart, trustworthy and reliable. This is one of those things that's like, "Really? This is an ideal?" because it should be status quo. Until somebody tells you-- you the woman-- that you are too smart.

8. He's handy. He builds an energy source in a cave! Come on, who doesn't want to be with McGyver when the pipes burst.

9. He brings it-- a lover AND a fighter.

10. He owns it. Given the opportunity to use a statement to gloss over his achievements, Tony owns it. With total honesty, he proclaims, "I am Iron Man." None of this lame pretending not to be the hero, Iron Man IS Iron Man. Notice how Pepper is in a much better place than MJ or Rachel? Notice how the relationship between Pepper and Tony is much better? It's because Iron Man owns it.

So there you have it. Iron Man is amazing.

p.s. In other news, I just realized that the director of Iron Man-- whom I recognized while he plays the bodyguard / driver-- was in Swingers AND Elf (which he also directed). Perhaps Jon Favreau is the perfect filmmaker?

discovering what makes westerns worthwhile.

Had to watch a bunch of westerns for class this week and I have to say, I was unprepared for what I've found. Namely,


that Robert Redford was one of the sexiest men to ever grace the silver screen. Seriously, out of the blue I was like, "Good lord, please bring mustaches BACK!" (really?!) It's like you think you know who you are and what you want and then Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid waltz in and turn it all upside down.

magic happens.

I would just like to note that there is a price to be paid for trash talking in The Paper. For example, look at what happened to Max Hall, BYU quarterback. Before the Holy War, he said:
“We have sort of a swagger. If you want to win a conference championship, you’ve got to come through us. We feel like it’s ours to lose.”

Well, it was Max's game to lose. As the Trib notes:
"BYU quarterback Max Hall was intercepted five times and lost a critical fumble in the third quarter when BYU trailed only 27-24."

Utah went on to win, 48-24. I'll leave you with this lovely quote from the Times story so you can truly appreciate the tension of the rivalry and the douchey-ness of the BYU team.

The most dramatic [game finish] came two years ago, when B.Y.U. quarterback John Beck scrambled around from the Utah 11-yard line as the clock ran out. He eventually threw across the field to a wide-open Jonny Harline, who sank to his knees to make a catch that delivered a 33-31 victory.

The symbolism of seeing Harline go to his knees to receive Beck’s prayer was not lost on many. But in case it was, B.Y.U. receiver Austin Collie gave it an accompanying sound bite last year after he caught a 49-yard pass on fourth-and-18 to set up a last-minute touchdown in a 17-10 come-from-behind win.

“Obviously, if you do what’s right on and off the field, I think the Lord steps in and plays a part in it,” said Collie, the Cougars’ leading receiver this season. “Magic happens.”

That comment has not been forgotten by the Utes.

“It definitely rubs guys the wrong way,” said Utah defensive end Paul Kruger, who is Mormon. “We’ve got guys who go to chapel every day after practice, people who are doing good things up here. People think that just because they go to a religious school, God’s blessed them with success.”

Oh, and speaking of Paul Kruger, I will use this opportunity to post a picture of him (with the amazing QB Brian Johnson). I saw him on the field after the game (you know it's a big win when the fans storm the field with 29 seconds still left on the clock) and he is an Adonis (who knows something about being blessed by God beyond the realm of his awe inspiring hotness).

Conference champs and headed to the BCS! Go Utes!

in further observance of rivalry week.

Dear Jason Chaffetz, thank you for making Utahns look like a bunch of cot-toting slack jawed yokels. We appreciate this. Glad to know that you'll be test driving materials for that tent cities concept in the House.
Rivalry Week aside: All a BYU education gets you is a bag of stinky underwear and a cot from Smith's. Noted.

So glad that somebody is speaking out about what a piece of shit the Electoral College is; so sad that our country has MUCH BIGGER PROBLEMS than what would inevitably be a protracted awful nasty amendment attempt.
Rivalry Week aside: Cosmo the Cougar's dumb outfit is made from the skin of recently shot rhinos. Cosmo the Cougar is also stupid. (zing!)

On a more positive note, I love this package design website and I really appreciate the art of Frank Plant.
Rivalry Week aside: BYU doesn't even like art.

You know what else I appreciate? GQ made Jon Hamm a man of the year. Of the four, he tops my list! Heh heh heh. Rivalry Week aside: Jon Hamm won't even make appearances in your dreams if you go to BYU because BYU sucks and Jon Hamm hates BYU and he hopes that they lose lose lose on Saturday because they are losing losers who lose.

What, that was too much for you? Fine. Then I'll leave you with an image of something really fantastic, something I'm going to make out of my leftover mashed potatoes.
Rivalry Week aside: It's something almost as good as watching BYU suffer at the hands of the Utes. Close, but not quite.

i wonder why they put the meat on these little white sticks.

This makes me happy: A comic take on the COB. That he suggests getting dropped of in Draper to fully enjoy State Street before getting there totally killed me.

This makes me mad: Frank Rich points out that the McCain is perpetuating myths about Hillary supporters switching parties. I think John McCain is wobbly chinned agent of the debbil, so naturally I get all wound up because that means that myth is misrepresenting me.* Felt better after Rich cataloged all of the false campaign myths and dissed them. I would feel better still if my roommates would stop watching Fox News.

This makes me sad: People in Vermont burning their furniture to stay warm in the winter. People in my own town just struggling to get by. Damn.

This makes me sad and angry: There is more international concern for DVD pirating than there is for the use of systematic rape as a strategy of war.

This post is starting to feel a little bit heavy, so here's a special treat. Gawker asked their readers today who their 80's crush is. My oh my, what a perfect opportunity to post gratuitous pictures of ♥Dolph Lundgren♥ , the only man I will ever really love.

I mean really, that body! That winning smile! That slurred ESL "I will never kneel for you" to Skeletor! Dolph Lundgren, I solute you. Schhhha-wing!

** "Myth? Myth?"
"Yeth?"

because i can no longer handle reading, all you get are links to pictures.

Food carving slide show... you know you want to see a poodle made out of broccoli.

People happy that they can get married... most joyful slide show ever?

I haven't actually read the story... but c'mon, Prince Harry!!!! Look!!!!

More food carvings, but crazier.

secret boyfriends and mexican coke.

Some weeks ago, my Secret Boyfriend presented me with a bottle of Mexican Coke. That's one of the perks of relationships; when you find yourself with an inconvenient abundance of something, like say banana bread or valentines or something, you give it to your significant other and suddenly your unwanted bounty becomes a Gift representative of the Cornucopia of Your Affections laden with all this Meaning undoubtedly showing your s.o. that you are so much more than fussy and that your vocabulary goes so much deeper than the usual endless stream of profanity and bitching-- with a Gift, you speak The Language of... well, you get it because this is how it is. So it was with the Mexican Coke, which I of course stored in the fridge for a special occasion.

Time passes, and of course with the commencement of summer, Secret Boyfriend leaves and with this leaving becomes Former-Secret-Boyfriend-Who-Is-Now-Just-A-Friend-Who-Calls-
Periodically-And-We-Both-Still-Care-but-We've-Agreed-to-See-Other-
People. You know how it goes, right? Well anyways, he left, leaving me to ponder terms such as "Spring Fling" with discomfort as I realize how caught up I was in everything that was going on at the time. In the wake of something so monumental as a Secret Boyfriend-- hey, after a dry spell of impressive magnitude, such language seems appropriate, though inflated-- I have worked to quell any lingering longings by keeping the company of an immensely lovable two-year-old performance artist or listening to alternative music or This American Life or really anything that kills my over active inner monologue, like having a Screwdriver while I do a craft project on the airplane. Because of course, this is what you do.

So anyways, I finally found myself drinking this Mexican Coke tonight, amidst a stillness that can only be achieved when alone at work at 11:12pm on a Tuesday in an empty 100 year old building. I noticed everything about it-- the way the bubbles seemed tinier and finer, the way the Coke left the same corrosive grit on my teeth but had this sweet finish at the end. Mexican Coke is subtitled "refresco" on the label and I couldn't help but feel like for the first time Coke felt light enough to genuinely and honestly be called refreshing.

Secret Boyfriends are like Mexican Coke. You keep it to yourself, hoping that nobody has noticed it's there. You have no expectations of it really, until after a while you do. You worry that somebody will steal it for themselves. You savor it but you wonder about the consequences. You delight in its use of the metric system, and in drinking it-- experiencing it-- you find yourself realizing that you have never, ever enjoyed Coke like this. You know that at some point, somebody will offer you a regular Coke and it won't be quite the same. And that's ok, because by then your inner cynicism will be restored and you will be emphatically saying how you hate Coke and that it's personal policy that you avoid Coke at all costs, because all Coke will ever do is break your heart...

*ends metaphor before it gets out of hand*
*goes to bed*

procrastination disguised as inspiration.

So it's kind of a slow news day / weekend as far as I go. I'll summarize life since Friday:

*odd probing chat at Nepalese lunch buffet with stranger from LA about friend, who like her daughter, was admitted to Yale Law School. Creepy.

*homemade cosmos followed up by lovely bottle of buttery California chardonnay

*donut madness

*onset of sore throat; did nothing all day but sleep and watch Birth of a Nation (which is like sleeping)

*biography of Ella Baker inspired self-loathing about lack of involvement in social change, followed by brief tears and trip to Target. Typical.

Because of my complete and total descent into boringtasticness, I present you with some internet goodness to inspire you in ways that I can't. For instance:


Two world leaders dressed as twinsies! (click to enlarge) I think that's so cute! Too bad they were talking about missiles instead of something happy like puppies or Mark Penn resigning. :( Their look totally takes me back to middle school spirit week when it was hot to dress like your BFF.

If that picture doesn't warm your heart, at least the pictures and descriptions on trashyeats.com will make you throw up in your mouth or inspire you to go eat an apple or something. :)

Now if either of those don't make you feel good, take two and wait until Thursday! Yay for The Office and 30 Rock and Scrubs coming back!

hold me closer, tony danza.

So last night we went to the Tavernacle, a dueling piano bar here in Salt Lake. Aside from musical awesomeness, beverage tastiness and people dancing on the pianos, they also had a prop box next to the stage complete with a picture of this fine representative of compromised gender roles*:

So you could say we had an amazing time... but I'd rather call it an "extrava-danza." Har.

*I mean Tony Danza, not me. I don't think I'm doing anything all that transcendent compared to the glories of "Who's the Boss?" And obvs. my picture was not in the prop box.

Photo credit to Will who reluctantly took this picture.

a little tuesday love.

Tuesdays are inherently rough. This makes it all better:


video comes from here.

thank you, new york times.

~sigh~.

it's raining men.

Some days, The New York Times really gets it right. Today The Paper is filled with many magical pictures of men, in what is no doubt a concerted effort to get the cynical amongst us recommitted to their raging lust for men in time for Valentine's Day.

For example, from Jordan:
See! Men can be fun again!

From the Styles page:
See! Men can be dapper and straight! (the brown shoes with a black suit are a dead giveaway)

And lastly:See! Manimals! Grrrrrrrr!

Ugh. That one really kills the mood.