Hijacked
Last night I saw
Warren Miller's new movie Higher Ground at McCaw Hall. Overall movie rating: rad. Overall experience rating: indignant annoyance. I've never been to one of the large screen extravaganza showings of a Miller movie and was really excited for the new experience. A few things struck me:
- As scared shitless as I am of breaking a leg in Whistler, I can not wait to throw myself down the mountain. (That's one thing about watching people do something really well - it makes you think you can too. I am such a fool.)
- Snowboarders? Yeah. As a general rule, they are hot.
- Warren Miller is a corporate sellout whore. A CORPORATE SELLOUT WHORE! If he, and in turn his movies, are really supposed to represent the rebel spirit that embodies the power of the powder and the mountain and catching of gnarly air and all that, then
why the hell were we the audience being goaded into clapping for Nature Valley Granola bars? Jeep? Grand Marnier?
Why was an emcee named - get this shit - Flex McGaw harassing us to applaud for everything from "Let's hear it for our sponsors" to "Let's hear it AGAIN for our sponsors" to "Can I get a shout out for our sponsors?!" SPONSORS? You know who the sponsors are? Me. And my friends. I think Flex and Warren forgot that each of the ~2000 people paid upwards of $20 to support the show so guess what that makes us?
We are our own damn sponsors.
Bravo. Way to support the arts. Now go buy an SUV.
After what should have been the 15 minute intermission - which got hijacked and turned into a 40 minute infomercial for ski equipment - me and my peeps had had it. We left. Time to go to the lodge I mean bar. Guess I will have to catch the rest of Higher Ground on dvd.
I Miss New York
What does it mean when:
...over twelve days, I pack in four weeks of activity on 24 hours of sleep?
...my hotel room is half the size and double the price than it would be anywhere else?
...the smell of horse poo (in Central Park) is something that is a reminder of a really really great day and not of how gross the smell of horse poo actually is?
...I can order a bottle of wine and a full meal at 4 a.m. and the waiter is NOT EVEN PISSED OFF AT ME when I do it?
...just sitting outside drinking a mocha and reading a book feels like the absolute perfect thing to be doing and the perfect time to be doing it?
...Jon Stewart tickets, Hairspray tickets and Knicks tickets turn up effortlessly and FOR FREE?
...I don't have to fly 3000 miles thru the middle of the night in order to see so many of my dearly loved loved ones?
It means I'm in NYC.
I miss that place.
Jinx
I don't cook much anymore. It's a rare thing these days, me in the kitchen creating actual meals with actual ingredients that require actual planning and actual food shopping to occur. I'm sure I'll get back to it. Someday. I'm just on hiatus for now. My last few grocery store trips have been all about the necesities: wine, toilet paper, limes, tonic and lip gloss. And ever since my can opener fell apart in my hand into 17 different pieces of circular metal bits, well... if it ain't twist off or screw top or frozen in a plastic bag or cardboard box, it's not getting consumed in this house.
No more than 20 hours ago, I uttered these arrogant words to a coworker: "Oh, it is sooo easy to make sugared walnuts. So easy. You just melt sugar in water, toss the walnuts in it, and bake. The water evaporates, the sugar crystallizes, and voila, sugared nuts for your spinach salad."
About 5 minutes ago, it is confirmed that my smoke detector does in fact work and the scary sprinkler head in my living room that threatens to destroy everything I own is thankfully dulled to the acrid smokey cloud of burnt sugar and singed nuts and to my shrieks of 'Oh shit. Shit!'. I don't know what the fuck I am talking about - easy? simple? Fool. Sugar burns faster than you can say SMOKE IS POURING OUT OF MY OVEN. Sorry guys, that salad I was bring over for dinner tonight? Yeah. Um.
Hiatus? Still on, indefinitely.
