My Emmy predictions

September 17th, 2011

Tomorrow night’s the big night! 5pmPST/8pmEST on Fox!

Last year, I picked most of the winners (whatever, no big deal). Here are my picks for this year:

Best supporting actor, comedy – should be: Ty Burrell; will be: Eric Stonestreet, Chris Colfer, or Jon Cryer (*explanation below)

Best supporting actress, comedy – should be: Betty White; will be: Jane Lynch

Best actress, comedy – should be: Amy Poehler; will be: Laura Linney

Best actor, comedy – should and will be: Steve Carell

Best comedy – should and will be: Modern Family

Best supporting actor, drama – should be: Peter Dinklage; will be: John Slattery

Best supporting actress, drama – should be: Christine Baranski; will be: Margo Martindale

Best actress, drama – should be: Connie Britton; will be: Juliana Margulies

Best actor, drama – should be: Kyle Chandler; will be: Jon Hamm

Best drama – should be: Friday Night Lights; will be: Ugh, Mad Men (or Boardwalk Empire?)**

*On best supporting actor in a comedy – this is a tough category. Will the 4 ModFam actors all split the vote, leaving Jon Cryer (who could ONLY win because of a split vote or a sympathy vote for all the Sheen/Lorre drama. I hate that show. They should change the title to “22 minute dick joke”) or Chris Colfer who ruled last season of Glee but how hard was that, based on the quality of Glee’s season? I LOVE him as an actor and character, but there was certainly nothing comedic about what he was going through or how they had him play it. Or might Eric Stonestreet repeat this year? His character is so flashy and it’s such a great role that he plays so perfectly… Sigh. Ty Burrell might have to wait another year.

**On best drama: PLEASE don’t let it be Mad Men AGAIN! Have Emmy voters learned nothing from previous years? If not, then the show’s creator will, yet AGAIN, get up and act surprised and like he hasn’t already prepared a speech, or worse: makes some bullshitty comment like last year when he said, “As I was saying…” in reference to how many times they’d won before. Am rooting for Friday Night Lights, of course, or really ANY other show to stage an upset.

From the Frontlines: Missoni For Target

September 13th, 2011

I’d like to preface this by saying that I’ve never been to a Black Friday sale. I’ve never “camped out” for anything (even when I was at camp as a kid). I’ve never stood in line for anything longer than 15 minutes and when I did, Splash Mountain or the Indiana Jones rides at Disneyland were the rewards at the ends of those lines, so they were worth it. Knowing that, it’s possible that what follows is normal – or, if not “normal” then par for the course for such events.

I’d seen the TV ads for Missoni’s collection for Target and I thought they were very cute. I found the lookbook online and liked several items. So much so that I marked September 13th – the first day Target would take orders – on my calendar. Did I NEED that short-sleeved multi-colored sweater dress? No. But I wanted it. And for some reason I had my heart set on the clipboard. And the box of pencils. And the ballet flats. And the child’s rainboots, even though I don’t yet have children.

I thought I was pretty damn clever this morning. I had set my clock for 5am and logged on to Target’s website. I started to add some items to my cart and then poof! I lost my connection to the site. When I tried to get back on, the little Target dog, Bullseye, was staring back at me, woofing something about how they’re trying to get the site back up and running. Fine. I refreshed my page for two hours. Any time I started to drift back to sleep, I’d wake with a start, only to see that damn dog. Finally, I made what I felt was a GENIUS decision: I’d go to one of their locations! I shared this novel idea with my husband (“While every one else is waiting online for this shitty site to come back up, I’ll be in the store grabbing whatever I want! I’ll have first dibs on everything!” Then, for effect, I tapped my finger against my temple, to remind him, in case he’d forgotten, that he married a smarty pants). My husband said he didn’t think that was a good idea, but I was already out the door.

I was so impressed with myself as I drove across town to what I assumed would be the least popular and most deserted of their many locations.

I was very very wrong. I arrived 15 minutes before the opening, and saw the crowd, nay, mob. There were easily 250 people ahead of me in line, some who apparently had camped out the night before. By the time the doors finally opened, there were at least 250 more people behind me.

This is as good a time as any to tell you that I’ve never actually been INSIDE of a Target. I’ve ordered from them online, but I’ve never been lucky enough to have one near wherever I’m living. I didn’t realize how big they are. Sprawling, really. In retrospect, I wish I’d somehow studied a store-map prior to going in, because I had no idea where I was going or where anything would be. Once the doors opened, I followed the throngs of women, but it felt like a massive and poorly organized Easter egg hunt.

By the time I got in, the Missoni racks were empty. No short-sleeved dresses (in ANY size) left. No clipboards. No pencils. No rainboots for my future child. Nothing.

Well, that’s not entirely true: I found some Missoni file folders and some bulldog clips. And a notepad. I’d fashion a Missoni clipboard myself, thank you very much.

What I purchased is not the point, though. It’s what I witnessed:

-One woman stole something out of another woman’s basket right in front of her! They got into a swearing match until the one who stole it just took off – ran like a crazy person through the store! – with the “stolen” items.

-One woman stole another woman’s ENTIRE cart full of stuff! She just walked away with it! (Around this time Target employees announced over the loudspeakers to be aware of our surroundings [??] and to keep our purses close to our bodies [!!].)

-I saw a woman in a motorized wheelchair (to whom no one afforded any respect or extra space to maneuver) intentionally ramming said motorized wheelchair into the backs of other shoppers’ knees and calves. Was she trying to mow them all down? It’s entirely possible. If the world was told to take shelter for an undetermined amount of time, I’d totally hire this woman to do my pre-disaster grocery shopping and/or looting. (Side note: Target even has groceries! WTF!)

-And then, finally, I saw a woman punch another woman IN THE FACE! Over a pair of size 3 flats! No adult even wears a size 3! I’m not even sure these women checked to see the size! They fought over the box until the one lady punched the other lady (IN THE FACE!! I CAN’T GET OVER IT)!

I later heard that lots of people grabbed anything they could so that they could sell it online for a profit.

(Reality check: This happened TWO days after the 10 year anniversary of 9/11.)

So what have I learned from my first foray into what I now call fad-mob-shopping? So much:

1. Never, ever leave your house. 2. When websites go haywire, so do we, 3. Missoni’s zig-zags ultimately give you a day-long migraine, 4. Target over-advertised this collection, but didn’t ultimately have the supply (or the web support) to back it up, and 5. BITCHES BE CRAZY.

My bull-dog clips and file folders:

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remembering

September 11th, 2011

I couldn’t sleep very well last night, thinking about 10 years ago. I know everyone’s got a story of where they were when they found out. Mine’s not special – I was asleep in LA when my brother called me from Boston. It was 6:05am west coast-time – the second plane had hit, confirming the worst fears, that we were under attack. I turned on the TV and didn’t turn it off until midnight. At 6:15am, without really thinking, I turned on the stove, boiled water, and made macaroni and cheese. Sure, I had breakfast food in my apartment, but it didn’t even dawn on me to eat it. I needed comfort food, and I ate the whole pot of macaroni by myself watching as the events unfolded, the buildings fell.

For me, anyway, this sad anniversary gets harder, not easier, with time. For a few reasons:

1. Our world was so different back then. Two days ago I started to watch a Dateline NBC episode dedicated to 9/11. In the first few minutes, they show footage from The Today Show that morning. The sun was shining, crowds were on the plaza cheering and waving and holding signs, and Katie Couric’s reliably perky voice chimed in: “It’s 8:30 on this Tuesday morning, September the 11th! A beautiful fall day, right Al?” And she threw to Al Roker outside on the plaza, surrounded by tourists who were thrilled to be on TV, and he talked about the beautiful day. It was SUCH a beautiful day. And, in retrospect, such a beautiful time for our country. (Despite the 2000 election.) 17 minutes later, of course, America would be changed forever. After watching that clip on Dateline a couple of days ago, I felt sick and had to turn off the TV.

2. I don’t think I allowed myself to grieve it 10 years ago. I wasn’t in New York or DC. I didn’t lose anyone I loved. I watched on TV like everyone else in the country. I felt that grieving would be selfish somehow, as if to claim the losses as my own. Sure, the footage killed me. At one point, there was a shot of an older man, on one of the highest floors in the North tower, hanging out the window of his office, waving for help. He was well-dressed. He was probably a partner at his firm. He looked like my dad. But he wasn’t my dad (thank God). But he was likely somebody else’s dad. My grief over what I lost (which is what we ALL lost that day: a sense of security, innocence) could not – and, I felt, should not – compare to the griefs of those who lost a parent or a spouse or a sibling. Did I have PTSD? A form of survivor’s guilt? Did we all have that? I don’t know.

3. Ten years later, our country’s a mess. 9/11 led to two wars, an eventual economic collapse, and now, a country more divided than ever. Yes, we all united behind President Bush at the time, whether we voted for him or not, but the fact that he squandered our trust and unity and international goodwill sickens me to this day. That he somehow used it as a case to go to war against Saddam, a war he was dead-set on fighting probably from the beginning of his presidency, and lied to us (or, at best, didn’t listen to Intelligence) about the weapons of mass destruction is appalling and disgusting. To be clear – and I mean this – I am not politicizing 9/11. But he did. If a democrat was in power at that time and made the same despicable decisions that he did, well, I probably wouldn’t be a democrat anymore. (If you haven’t, read The Price of Loyalty by Ron Suskind. Holy shit.)

So I didn’t sleep much last night. I thought about all of those people, heroes, saviors. I thought about their families, children growing up without a parent, and those parents, who were robbed of watching their kids grow up, were robbed of everything. I thought about our broken country and hoped for unity again. Then, I was overwhelmed with gratitude. I thought about the incredible blessings in my life. My dear husband. Our two pups. An amazing family and hopefully a long lifetime ahead of us. I appreciated our home that we love so much. Our front garden that blooms even when I forget to water it. The flowering tree in the backyard which has buds that fall like rain drops when it’s windy. I hugged my husband tight and only then did I finally fall asleep.

I’m not saying I’ve taken my life for granted. I haven’t. I’ve always loved my life. But this morning, I was especially aware of and grateful for it. This morning, I picked up coffee for us. I had caffeine for the first time in years. I ordered several muffins and doughnuts. I hadn’t had a doughnut since the 6th grade. We ate and drank and allowed ourselves to indulge. Then we went to a gentle yoga class and were actually gentle on ourselves – we rested when we needed to. Then we assembled a collection of our clothes for the Goodwill. Then we watched football, and opened all the windows wide to get a nice breeze.

All because we could.

YES. A thousand times YES.

September 6th, 2011

How to land your kid in therapy.

My parents…

August 29th, 2011

…have been married for 40 years today! Love them both so much.

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Wet Floor

August 25th, 2011

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Don’t even THINK about messin’ with my family.

August 19th, 2011

Words I said aloud, ruefully, tonight:

“Nobody f*cks with my mother-in-law.”

I can’t decide if it should be a movie title or Die Hard 8′s “yippee-ki-ay mother-f*cker” equivalent.

Where did I keep my bike?

August 15th, 2011

Something weird happened today: my brain fixated on one very tiny detail of my past and simply – no matter how hard I tried – couldn’t or wouldn’t get off it.

That small and truly pointless detail was: in the years 2001, 2002, and 2003, when I worked very close to my apartment in Beverly Hills – close enough so that I could (and did) ride my bicycle to work every day – where did I put my bicycle when it wasn’t in use?

I have no idea. Of course this doesn’t matter now (and didn’t even really matter then either) but I CANNOT STOP THINKING ABOUT IT! During the years 2001-2004, I lived in a total of two different Beverly Hills apartments that were very close to each other. (I left one apartment in 2002 because a neighbor had gotten robbed. So I moved across the street to a much nicer building where *I* then got robbed. Awesome.) The units I lived in in each building were on the second or third floor (so I know I didn’t lug the bike up the stairs or in the elevator with me every night), both had back-alleys that were a little sketchy, even though they were in Beverly Hills, so I know I didn’t lock them up out there, and neither had space in the front to park and lock a bike. I have no recollection of a bike inside either apartment (both apartments and their buildings’ lobbies were carpeted, so I never would’ve dirtied them with bike tires). So where did I keep my bicycle?

And more importantly: WHY THE F*CK DO I CARE?!

Why has my brain suddenly decided to obsess about this?

There are a few possibilities: 1. I’ve got quite a lot going on lately and my brain needed a break; 2. I had sliced turkey at lunch and the tryptophan went to my head; or 3. I have had a small stroke.

PLEASE don’t be #3.

Why does everything smell like burnt toast?

From The Economist

August 3rd, 2011

Practice makes perfect

July 27th, 2011

My favorite video, ever:

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