NASA will host a Tweetup with the International Space Station on October 21. Silly me misunderstood the Tweet (@NASA Talk directly to the space station! Registration for the ISS Tweetup in Wash, DC, is now open.), thinking it would be an online meetup. I know it says Washington, D.C., in the Twitter update but that’s where NASA is headquartered so I thought the meetup would be moderated from there. Whatever. I signed up seconds after I realized my mistake. I consoled myself by thinking, What are the chances anyway of them accepting me?
Well, THEY DID!!!!!!!!
FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!
I hope the lucky mofo who takes me spot realizes how lucky he/she is. Why must I realize my astronomer/astronaut dreams too late? Oh, NASA, NASA, NASA…
Tune in to NASA t.v. at http://www.nasa.gov/ntv on Wednesday, October 21, 10 a.m. – 12 noon, EST to watch the Tweetup live. I can’t wait!!!
Follow them on Twitter at @NASA. They are great! For a full list of NASA Twitter accounts, click here.
"People of Earth: Later. "
I read an interview with Stephenie Meyer where she described the process of writing Twilight as transcribing her dreams. It definitely reads so. Meyers is fond of adjectives and adverbs – anything to create some kind of striking image or scene in the reader’s mind. The problem is that the style in how it’s done reminds me of when I was nine and reading Ann M. Martin’s physical characteristics and outfit descriptions of the members of the Babysitter’s Club. Or when I was 14 and reading about the “refreshing” American girls with the brown copper streaked shoulder length hair and tan slender legs Prince William fell in love with while living undercover on a farm in Kansas (This was during my Prince William fan fic phase. No, we are not going there).
Okay, I’ll stop it.
It’s just…
“It was seventy-five degrees in Phoenix, the sky a perfect, cloudless blue. I was wearing my favorite shirt – sleeveless, white eyelet lace; I was wearing it as a farewell gesture. My carry-on item was a parka.”
And:
“I took the slip up to the teacher, a tall, balding man whose desk had a nameplate identifying him as Mr. Mason. He gawked at me when he saw my name – not an encouraging response – and of course I flushed tomato red.”
Or:
Edward had a “glorious face [...] It was like trying to stare down a destroying angel.”
But this is my favorite:
“Clair de Lune?” I asked surprised.
“You know Debussy?” He sounded surprised, too.
“Not well,” I admitted. “My mother plays a lot of classical music around the house – I only know my favorites.”
“It’s one of my favorites, too.” He stared down in the rain, lost in thought.
In addition to the adjectives, Meyer brings in the band name dropping. Perfect. So perfectly high school. It takes me right back to my own high school experience where a ticket to cool was boasting about my extensive rock history knowledge courtesy of VH1’s Pop Up Video or Behind the Music. While I do give credit to VH1 for brushing me up on my pop/rocks basics, looking back I must have sounded like such an insufferable pseudo-rock music know-it-all teen.
“The Strokes?”
“You like them?”
“Julian Casablancas. What else do I have to say?”
Ack! I am proud to say this conversation never happened in those exact words during high school but it echoes those sentiments of icky music pretension that now make me roll my eyes and groan, UGH, but before made me think I was so well-versed in my rock knowledge, laughing off those who thought Simple Plan was “punk” (Meanwhile sneaking in Good Charlotte listening sessions in my room…).
Though this time reading Twilight I had to chuckle. Debussy? Well played, Meyer. You could’ve done The Strokes or the White Stripes or even Nirvana but you did Debussy. Way to go for not falling into the trap of dated pop culture references. Then again we are talking vampires. I guess classical music and vampires make sense? Like wine and cheese? Meh.
For all the crap I give the writing I keep on having to remind myself this is a young adult romance series. I’m not familiar at all with vampire romance novels, vampire novels, and the romance genre in general so I’m not sure how to critique the book’s writing. How do you compare Harry Potter to Twilight? You can’t. I wish Meyer had a better editor, to be honest. I was so tempted to strike through so many useless words that made the descriptions more LOL-worthy. I don’t think that was the point. Really? “I tried to make my smile alluring, wondering if I was laying it on too thick.” Meyer, come on!
The writing isn’t my biggest peeve so much as Bella and Edward INTENSELY GAZING AT EACH OTHER ALL THE TIME. It’s either that or passion-filled passing glances. I could feel Edward’s eyes on me as I walked over to the side of the car. It felt like electricity when Edward’s hand brushed the wisps of hair from my eyes. He looked so stern, so focused. Blah blah blah. I guess this is supposed to heighten the suspense leading up to Edward’s mysterious “secret,” set up conflict, and create huge payoffs but it’s so annoying. Sigh…I have to remind myself these are hormonal teenagers who are trying to cool it.
The worst part about reading this book is knowing full well how Bella and Edward look like. In my head KStew is Bella and Pattinson is Edward. I wished I would’ve read the series sooner (Much like every Twilight fan who literally gasped when I told them that I just started the book) just so I could imagine for myself how the two leads would look in my own Twilight world. But no, I got future Joan Jett and Cedric Diggory. Although, Pattinson seems perfectly cast for Twilight. He really can pass for a vampire.
I mean, Jesus.
I haven’t made much progress with Twilight, frankly, because I fall asleep halfway while reading it. Believe me, I’m trying. Chapters one to five coming soon…
I have started reading Twilight. I know it’s considered old news, especially with the second movie in the series coming out pretty soon. But with all these A-listers signed up to do Eclipse and general hysteria surrounding this vampire love story that I have plain ignored for the past year-ish, I had to see what everybody was talking about. The premise of the series never really interested me but the passionate responses the series elicits do:
“TWILIGHT MOMS ARE CREEPY. GTFO.”
“It’s made of fail.”
“Twilight fans amuse me with their fuckery.”
“YO EDWARD YOU SO CRAZY I WANNA HAVE YO BLOODSUCKING DAZZLING BABY”
See????????? And this is just from one Twilight post on ONTD. Read here. There are six pages of discussion and 1,271 Twilight-related posts.
When I broke the news via Facebook status I got 10 – count ‘em – TEN (T.E.N.) e-mail notifications commenting on said status. Comments ranged from “It’s totally addictive” to “dislikedislikedislike.” See????????
Stephen King saying Stephanie Meyer is successful but “can’t write” : me wanting to read Twilight because Stephanie Meyer is fucking successful but supposedly “can’t write” :: Jack Donaghy telling Tracey Jordan not to dog fight because it’s wrong : Tracy Jordan wanting to dog fight because it’s wrong.
Does this analogy make sense? It’s past my bed time so I’m a tad doozy. The sentiment fueling my reason to read is more or less similar to Tracy’s reason to dog fight: it sounds hideous and repulsive but I gotta do it!
So here I am in bed at 11:03 P.M, getting snugly underneath the sheets with Twilight in easy reach. Two of my co-workers assure me that I’ll be done with the book in one day. Apparently, it’s a quick read and very engrossing. They tell me to embrace it. They tell me we will watch the movie as soon as I am done reading the book. They tell me we will then all go to the midnight showing of New Moon.
For the two or three folks who actually read my blog, I know you all would never read Twilight so I’m doing it for you. In an experiment akin to the Julie/Julia blog (Have any of you seen that movie, btw? Thumbs up? Down?), I will blog my way through Twilight and hope that you find my commentary insightful or, at best, entertaining. This is Twilight we are talking about. Not Nabokav or anything fucking deep. Hopefully, I won’t be up all night reading this thing so I end up with only one Twilight commentary post. How sad. I’ll space it out.
Off to Forks, Washington! RPattz and KStew are looking at me, daring me to read about their sexually frustrating love affair.
Do yourself a favor and follow up on two of the quickest, smartest, funniest, most well-dressed people I know:
ANNIE POTTER & THE CAIRO OF SECRETS
And it’s not just because they are my friends. Or that they will resume their studies in two of the gnarliest cities in the world. Or that they’re going to take over the world in their own way or whatever. It’s because they actually are quick, smart, funny, and well-dressed all in one. That’s a combo hard to come by.
Curious graph but what about the Asians? What am I doing at 6:15 p.m.?
My favorite movie moments are the teeniest tiniest ones that don’t really contribute to the plot but make you go, “Oh my God, that’s what I’ve been trying to say!” or “Thank goodness I’m not the only one who does that!” The following scene is from Rush Hour, one of the greatest movies (IMHO) ever, and is a prime example of audiences (IMHO) “relating to the character.” Who HASN’T done this?!
Do any of my growing-up-in-the-90s friends remember this PBS show called Ghostwriter? It’s about a group of Brooklyn teens who solve mysteries with the help of a dot of light and two apostrophes, or Ghostwriter.
That's Ghostwriter sneaking inside the "O" of his name.
Aptly named Ghostwriter because “he’s a ghost and he writes to us,” Ghostwriter communicates with the kids by forming words and sentences with letters and text he can find nearby. This show was my show. I wanted to move to Brooklyn, have a posse of best friends, and be a part of a secret mystery fighting society where initiation ended by anointing the new member with a pen necklace. The pen necklace was meant for convenience so that any time Ghostwriter began “talking” to them, the kids would be ready to respond.
I thought the pen necklace was the coolest thing ever. Like friendship bracelet, making your own lanyard keychain cool. Meaning, REALLY COOL. It overtook my love of bringing a black and white marbled notebook everywhere I went a la Harriet the Spy. I don’t know why it had that effect on me. But I guess even as a nine-year-old, there was something satisfying about whipping out a pen at a moment’s notice, and from a loop of string dangling around my neck no less! Come on, that’s smart right?
Fast forward some years later to Mad Men. Boom. Boom. Boom. That sound is Joan Holloway pounding through the office in her hottest outfit wearing a motherfucking gold pen necklace. Gold pen necklace. GOLD PEN NECKLACE.
Don't mess.
I didn’t know pen necklaces dated back to the sixties. I didn’t know they could be so elegant. But they can and they are mean and people need to start wearing this along with caftans. Seriously, guys, the thought of stepping outside from 11 a.m. to 4 p.m. in this southern California valley heat makes me wince.
When I was in Monterey I hit up this fancy schmancy pen/stationary shop in the hope of finding a pen necklace but nothing. By the way, some of these pens are insane. Like, insanely out of my budget. A Cartier pen for $300. For real? I mean, I understand it’s all about craftmanship and it will last you forever ladeedah but $300? Dang. That is a world I will never understand but kind of want to experience. You know, for 15 minutes because I imagine cushy living like that is easy to get accustomed to and 15 minutes is enough to let the guilt start settling in.
But back to the topic at hand. I Googled “pen necklaces” and guess what guys and dolls, you can get your own vintage-inspired Joan Holloway gold pen necklace from 1928 Jewelry!
1960s Vintage Inspired Gold Tone Pen Necklace, 1928 Jewelry
The one Christina Hendricks wears on the show was actually found at the famous Pasadena flea market at the Rose Bowl so I’m sure if you wanted the real thing you could hit up a flea market near you. But at $20 a pop and without the relentless thrift hunting, I’m willing to take inspired to the real thing. All my Joan Holloways, writers, practical but stylish folks, or anyone who wants to look fly as hell as you sign off your checks and balances, you all need to buckle on this pen necklace train and work it. I know I will.
Gold tone pen necklace for $20. Also comes in emerald and gold and ruby and gold hue tones for $28. Buy here!
I came across this open letter from NPR blogger Linda Holmes to my beloved Pixar calling for a movie “about a girl who is not a princess.” It was posted earlier this month so I’m a bit late, but it’s definitely worth noting.
Maybe I’m a “bad feminist” for saying that I love a good princess movie but an animated movie about a girl who isn’t a princess would be fantastic. Now that I think about it, I wonder what Up would’ve been like if (SPOILER ALERT) we had Ellie take us on this journey instead of Carl. Perhaps the same as gender shouldn’t matter. Yet, how great would it have been to see a lady holding it down? We hardly see that in animated movies let alone live action. I loved Ellie instantly because she reminded me of when I was in high school, daydreaming out loud with my best girlfriends about our ambitious plans and extraordinary adventures around the world. My after school friends, Shounan and Charis, and I would spend hours in the library telling each other that one day we’d meet in Belgravia for tea or rough it somewhere in China, all the while carefully avoiding the stern looks of Sister Joanne for talking above library volume level.
But back to Up. Yo, Pixar! Come up with a story about a character like Ellie. You all are so imaginative and zany and awesome. It shouldn’t be that hard, right?
Ellie meets her match in the timid but equally curious aspiring explorer Carl. My heart. It swells.
SOURCE: Dear Pixar, From All The Girls With Band-Aids On Their Knees
Foodies, rev your palates cos guess what’s making a comeback? Sar-fucking-dines!
Hey, I’m only the messenger. The WaPo featured this a couple weeks back but I only read about it today*.
Personally, I think it’s hilarious that sardines were even ‘out’ in the first place. People eat canned tuna and salmon so I don’t know why they’re all up in arms about sardines. “But it’s got the head on!” my patoot. I hate when people say that! It’s like, Dude, you know your hamburger had a face right? I get mildly offended when people liken the fish to SPAM, as if SPAM is all kinds of low-end hillbilly food. If we’re playing that game then put down the McNuggets. At least you can make SPAM into sushi rolls. You can’t do that with a McNugget.
Sardines are my childhood which probably explains why I love them and am so defensive of them when someone gives me The Face. My parents used to buy them – and still do – from the Asian store at about a buck per can. They usually buy the ones in tomato sauce but they also dig the ones in olive oil. It’s all in the preparation. Sardines taste delicious on toast or with rice with a touch of soy sauce. Grimace all you want but who’s the one suffering from mercury poisoning?
Benefits of munching on the tiny fish are significant and, yes, even more hip than you can handle: Ecofriendly and packed with high levels of omega 3 fatty acids. Plus, Alton Brown is a fan and you can’t mess with Alton.
Yeeeaah, EAT that.
*The Monterey Herald printed this story and, funnily enough, it was one day after I visited Cannery Row. It’s touristy, yes (Just check out that Web site!), but if you’re a Steinbeck fan like me it’s Steinbeck Country so you are highly advised to go! There’s a kitschy wax museum where Steinbeck himself narrates the history of Cannery Row, a general store that sells every useless thing you can imagine, and some of the factories that still maintain its original decor. It’s easy to see why Cannery Row in its heyday was worth writing about. Oh, Monterey, I think you may trump Los Angeles, San Diego, and San Francisco, as my favorite place in all of California.
Correction: Perhaps I should read the very links I post. SPAM masubi is not sushi because its rice is not prepared with vinegar as is customary with sushi rolls. The rice is instead salted. Whoops! My bad.
