Sunday, August 30, 2009

It's Britney, B*tch.

For my 25th birthday, I got a very special birthday present from my friend. It was an orange and pink beach bag that I'd been secretly wanting. I was pretty stoked when it showed up under my Happy Brithday tree.

"Thanks, Sarah! This is the one I wanted. That's great!" I exclaimed.

"I'm glad you like it! But, there's more inside," says Sarah

This girl knows me well. I like presents within presents. She knows it. She surely saved the best for last. Inside the beach bag were a couple of little things, which the years have erased completely from my memory, but I remember loving the little treats and surprises. Being an experienced present openner such as myself, I knew to save the envelope for last.

I gently tear the corner of the envelope, careful not to damage the contents. Savoring the anticipation. Fantasizing about the golden ticket that lies inside. Where am I going? What am I doing? It could be plane tickets. It could be a gift certificate for a massage.

It's... It's.... It's....

"Britney Spears tickets? You bought me tickets to see Britney Spears?...I mean..! " (shit), says the really genuinely surprised and confounded birthday girl.

"Look at where they are, silly." Says a remarkably patient Sarah.

"Darien Lake, NY?!?!?! Holy smokes! You got me tickets to see Britney Spears in a concert venue just outside of my hometown in Western New York?!"

Now that was something to be excited about. Correction...something to be genuinely ecstatic about! I haven't been there in years. It's a quirky reason to go on a road trip. Yay for fun!

This was Britney's Onyx Hotel tour. The year was 2004. Does anyone remember what happened to Britney Spears in 2004? I'll help...Kevin Federline happened to her in 2004. The tour was cancelled due to her knee injury and subsequent spiral into a steaming heap of dysfunction. Shortly thereafter she became Mrs. Kevine Federline and permanent foder for the tabloids. No Britney. No roadtrip. No fun. Period.

Ever since then, Britney's been kind of a running joke for me and Sarah. We joke about the "music' and the drama. Most of all, we joke about the Britney concert that never was. This is why it was my distinct pleasure to surprise my dear friend Sarah with tickets to see Britney here in Philadelphia 5 years after the concert that never was.

The show was pure fun. (She's in a cage...'nuf said.)


We wore glitter.


It was worth the wait.

Monday, August 24, 2009

Knock on Woody Allen.

"I am thankful for laughter, except when milk comes out of my nose." ~Woody Allen

"I am thankful for laughter, except when it is gurgling out of the hyenna sitting next to me at a Woody Allen movie." ~ Me

Let's start at the beginning, shall we?
It was the best of times. It was the worst of times...Sorry. Wrong story.
Ah, yes, the beginning of THIS story goes like this...

I love movies. Good movies. Bad movies. Happy movies. Sad movies. Pauli Shore movies, (Son-In-Law was funny and you know it.) My favorites are gangster movies, heist movies, and movies with good dialogue.

Woody Allen is kind of in a class by himself when it comes to movie making. He's got a way with dialogue and honest absurdity. He catches me off guard and makes me laugh more often than not.

I was thrilled to see his most recent movie come out. Perfect thing to do with a visiting guest whom I like very well, but don't know how to talk to. Let's face it, I'm charming for a bit, a couple of hours tops, but he was coming for D.A.Y.S. Woody Allen is a great way to pass some time. Then, we'll have a commmon topic of conversation for at least a half an hour afterwards. Perfect.
We head out to a local artsy theater, which is usually pretty quiet and chill. But, it's Saturday night and it's just the kind of place where nerds like me go for the opening of the new Woody Allen film. The place is packed. Long line for tickets. Longer line for popcorn. The line at the ladies room is ridiculous. By the time we make it into the theater, the previews have already begun. We trip our way through the dark, over a row full of people and wedge ourselves into the last chairs in the corner of the back row. It's a relatively small theater, so there is no such thing as a bad view, but it's a little too cozy for comfort.

I size up the woman to my left, whom I will inevitably fight for armrest control. She's in her early 50s. Well put together outfit of a well pressed khaki skirt, red blouse and an elegant string of pearls. Hair is a brown bob, which compliments her wire rimmed glasses and the cardigan she has painstakingly arranged over her thin shoulders. She looks like her name might be Lorna. When our eyes meet, she submissively folds her arms over her chest and smiles awkwardly. Confident with the knowledge that no one named Lorna can assert control of an armrest, I smile back wrly.

People are settled. Cell phones and pagers are off. It's now time for our feature presentation. The movie starts and pretty much right off, the main character breaks the 4th wall. (Tricky Woody Allen). Most everyone in the audience gasps a little and giggles as Larry David addresses us directly. I say "most everyone" because Lorna doesn't gasp and giggle...she does something else entirely. At first, I thought she was having a very private moment very loudly in the middle of a movie theater, (a la Meg Ryan in 'When Harry Met Sally') but then I realize that's just how Lorna laughs.

The laugh can most succinctly be described as frantic panting followed by a series of inordinantly loud guffaws with a few wind down sighs at the end.

It begins with a period of extra breathy hyperventilation "heh-heh-heh-heh-heh-heh."

Then burts into, "CAW! CAW! CAWH! CAW! CAW!."

Rounded out with, "eih. eih. eih."

After the first round, I did what I like to call, "Stop, Drop and Roll."
STOP whatever I was doing.
DROP my jaw wide open.
ROLL my eyes up into my head.

Every joke. Every mother-loving joke, she goes through this process! It's apparently an uproariously funny movie. I should note, I don't personally know if it was funny because I didn't hear a single punchline. Here's what the movie sounded like to me:

"So a rabbi and a pilot walk..heh-heh-heh-heh-heh-heh"

"The pilot says...CAW! CAW! CAWH! CAW! CAW!"

"And the Rabbi says, that's becuase Rosebud is a ...eih. eih. eih."

At first it was annoying. Then it was maddening. Eventually, it was just plain old comical. Adding to this scene was the fact that the man in the yellow shirt sitting next to her had an almost equally annoying laugh. Quite a pair. :)

So, the movie's over. While I missed 30% of the dialogue, I decide that it was a good film and I liked it quite well. It's about love and serendipity and the wacky ways in which people come together. I smiled while I was watching it, so that works for me.

The movie ends and it's time to go. The credits roll and we sit and watch. The theater is emptying. Yet, Lorna and the man in the yellow shirt are still sitting and talking as if they think there might be an encore. I'm thinking, "Alright kids. Let's get a move on. I'm burning through all my material before we even leave the theater." But, unless I want to jump over them, my only reasonable option is to eavesdrop on their conversation.

Man in the Yellow Shirt (YS): No, I'm not actually from around here.

Lorna: No? How long are you in town?

YS: Actually just for the night. I'm taking a little train tour of the east coast. Thought I'd see a movie. You?

Lorna: Um, no I don't live in Philadelphia, either. I live in Wilmington. I really like Woody Allen and it wasn't playing anywhere by me. So, I came into town just to see the movie.

YS: How about that?

They get up. Quietly exit the theater.together to walk down a bustly city street and into the steamy night. (Fade to black)

Woody Allen couldn't have written it better himself.

Monday, August 17, 2009

Campfires and "Food"

I like Food. No, I mean, I really like Food. I like it so much I eat it daily. It's true.

Here's my dirty little secret. I also like "food". You know the stuff that's chemically enhanced and had the bejeezus beaten out of it so much that it actually behaves like Food. Examples: twinkies, hot dogs, double-stuffed peanut butter creme Oreos, american cheese, the entire Dorito family...

I just got back from a week and a half in Michigan. For those of you who are not so familiar with the Great Lakes State, let me tell you that the Food there is fabulous. Seriously, check the labels on your produce. With the colder climate you get a later growing season, which means Michigan acts as America's fruit basket in late summer.

In August, Michgan is positively bursting with sweet corn, blueberries, and raspberries. It's unbelievable. In a measely week and a couple days, I nearly ate my weight in fresh produce. The creameries are incredible, which to me equals 10 solid days of ice cream. Let's not forget the greatness of Michigan breweries. Summer brews from Bells and Arcadia kept me smiling. (Honorable mention to Goose Island 312, not from Michigan, but Chicago's close enough to count.)

Michigan is also home to some of the greatest "food" ever made. Faygo Red Pop is a sticky sweet strawberry flavored soda. Hudsonville's Superscoop Ice Cream. The entire right side of a National Coney Island menu, inlcuding but not limited to chilli cheese fries and a sandwich made with fried chicken, fluffy pita bread, mayo, and lots and lots of cheese. It's called a Hani and it's ridiculous.

Some of the best "food" isn't native to Michigan, but is synonymous with Michigan summers. S'mores, for example, gooey marshmallows, melty chocolate, crispy graham crackers. Good old fashioned Hot Dogs roasted over a campfire. Delicious!

So here's where it gets complicated...I'm Polish. My family is Polish. This means we don't just eat Food or "food". We eat "FOOD!" Bet you thought S'mores were good. Next time try it with Reese's Peanut Butter Cups instead of chocolate bars. We put peanut M&Ms in popcorn. We add butter and fried onions to just about any savory dish that sits still long enough.
This weekend, my sisters and I committed the ultimate crime against the arteries. We made a new favorite "FOOD!" called 'Angels on Horseback'. Here's how it's done:

Step 1: Find a poor unsuspecting hot dog.




Step 2: Slice it down the middle and stuff it with cheese
(No picture...I was covered in raw bacon by the time I thought of it.)
Step 3: Wrap the newly cheese stuffed hot dog in BACON.


Step 4: Skewer the little bastard.


Step 5: Let the Magic Campfire do its thing.
Step 7: Slather with ketchup and eat it up.
Step 8: Proceed directly to the Emergency Room to seek medical attention.

Saturday, August 1, 2009

Curling up with a good book.

I wouldn't recommend the book for reading.

Lula, however, recommends it for napping.