Luck of the Irish

In honor of St. Patrick's Day I am not going to go into explicit detail of Pat's life and his propensity to dispel unsavory characters from Ireland, namely snakes and the Devil himself, because nobody really cares about the story. Everyone's main concern today will be telling other people how they are actually part Irish, pledge their undying love for Notre Dame, and then mumble partially-known drinking songs whilst swigging down Guinness as fast as possible.

For me, this Shamrock Holiday has inspired this musing: If I had to choose between Colin Farrell, Jon Rhys-Meyers, Damien Rice or Jason O'Mara to give up America and shack up in a cozy Irish castle with, who would I pick?

Happy Pi Day!

In honor of Pi, the most beloved number of math zealots everywhere, you really ought to watch this freaky deeky video:



March is full of totally awesome and completely random holidays, so celebrate away dear friends!

PS - Beware the Ides of March tomorrow. All hail J.Ceas.

TV, it's time to bring back the crazy

If any of you were fortunate enough to have caught The Chopping Block on NBC tonight, then I imagine you have already begun to form some ideas in your mind on the one Chef Marco Pierre White. DO YOURSELVES A FAVOR - read this book:


I now leave generous tips at nice eateries because of Marco "Holy Terror" White. You will love him, hate him, be willing to become an indentured servant just to learn from him - he's a genius. You will never look at restaurants, chefs or waiters the same again. I was completely seduced through paper. Mostly because he is smug and crazy; if he's not yelling at another chef to F off, then he's throwing a client out into the street. And speaking of insane people and tv, I am SO ready for American Idol to be over already. I've never been a fan, and I vowed that I would watch it only on the condition that Simon be the SOLE judge. I do however appreciate the lunacy of Paula Abdul and her wardrobe concoctions that are almost as whacked out as she is.

More than anything though, I hate that AI is crowding out Fringe. Give me my Pacey, man! Perhaps it's unpopular, but I'd take Walter "I-am-craving-applesauce-after-digging-into-that-guy's-brain" Bishop any day over the dulcet tones of American "I want this SO bad!" Idol.

And lastly, dear 30 Rock, I only have this to say: Bring back Don Draper! Bring back Don Draper!

I realize that when I met you at the turkey curry buffet, I was unforgivably rude, and wearing a reindeer jumper.

I've never considered myself a real shy person. That was decided when, as a young teen, I "bop bopped" some dude's rear multiple times, on the sly, at stake dances.

I like to think I have matured since then.

Still, I have this Bridget Jones-esque way of making myself look like an idiot in front of any moderately attractive male. And there is one such male in existence whom I see every night at the gym. We have had our moments, he and I. If you know what I mean. And by that I mean, we would walk past each other on many occasions that didn't require walking past each other.

So I decided it was time to take the next step. As I was sitting on a leg machine, waiting to begin my next rep, he comes sauntering by. "Carpe Diem!" I cheered to myself. I looked at him straight in the face, and flashed by biggest Hello smile. (I bet you were expecting that I was going to jump atop him, weren't you? WRONG.)

Then, quite naturally, he smiled back. A kind of 10-year-old-grin that almost made me snort-laugh.

And then I called it a night and went back home, feeling quite pleased with my progress.

Who KNOWS what kind of shenanigans tonight will bring.

Hello McFly!

As of late I have been wondering where exactly I fall on a scale of 1 - 10 of nerdiness. This has been even harder because I'm not sure how to fix the scale. What is the lowest degree of nerd? I'm thinking Apple snob, blogger, and occasional sci-fi peruser. Those seem to be staples, but is it too much? I don't know. 10 is a little easier; that is going to consist of knowing Klingon, making j factorial jokes, listing Dungeons and Dragons as a hobby, listing "the force" as a skill, and writing notes in binary code.

I suppose most of us nerds fall somewhere in between. But I am having a real identity crisis and I NEED to know where I stand. The facts are these:

- I blog. In case you weren't aware.
- I sometimes watch Nacho Libre when I am alone.
- I have made multiple trips to the library lately with the sole purpose of getting more books on Stephen Hawking for Idiots and Quantum Mechanics 101.
- I sometimes muse about what it would be like to be an Elf in Lord of the Rings.
- I love comic book movies.
- I really do think that Disneyland is the happiest place on earth.
- I'm a snob when I go to Disneyland. I find myself saying things like, "Oh this ice cream stand wasn't here last time," or "They TOTALLY changed the womanizing pirates into thief pirates on POTC ride!" (Which, by the way, they DID. And it's not nearly as funny or creepy).
- I love Lost. Mostly because of all the crazy-a sci-fi junk on that show.
- I read Lost theory sites because more than anything in life I love theorizing about things.
- I have a string theory seminar video bookmarked on my APPLE NOTEBOOK (note: I own a mac, but not necessarily a snob).
- I plan on celebrating national PI day on the 14th.
- Speaking of Pi, I also have Daniel "I memorized Pi" Tammat videos in my favorites on YouTube, which I watch on a regular basis.
- I have a crush on Chuck from Chuck. Mostly for his nerdiness. But also for his tallness.
- I wish I could do math so I could be a math/physics nerd.

HOWEVER. The following keeps me from true nerdom:
- I don't speak/write ANY other languages, though there was once a boy in one of my classes that would always write his name in Elvish on the roll sheet, and then give Elvish greeting to the professor. And he looked suspiciously like the Numa Numa dude. CREEPY.
- I don't understand binary code.
- I haven't started watching Battlestar Galactica. YET.
- I really love shooting guns.
- I can't quote anything from Star Wars or X Files.
- I can never remember how many gigabytes are in a terabyte. Or how to spell those.
- I can name at least 5 major designer labels.
- I sound like a ditz when I talk.

So maybe you, as a removed party, can help me this. BECAUSE IT'S REALLY IMPORTANT. What's an appropriate nerd scale, and where do I (and you) stand?


UPDATE!
Thanks to Azucar, I took the Nerd Quiz and realized that in fact I am "not a nerd, but definitely not hip." And I'm not quite sure how I feel about that. Although, it is rather fitting since I am mediocre in all ways, and therefore being a true nerd would be unfitting with my station in life.

Reward for Good Behavior

We all know that working out is beneficial to every human physically, emotionally and mentally, yada yada yada. But what they DON'T tell you are the benefits that come from eating snacks after one's jaunt to the gym.

Example: When I get back I usually crave cantaloupe. Beautiful ripe, juicy, orange cantaloupe. And, for whatever reason, I always feel the need to eat it with a knife. I think it's the hick in me, because I cut it, spear it and then bite it off the knife - a sharp steak knife. Did I mention I have a higher than normal IQ? Anyway. The other day I didn't want any cantaloupe - I wanted FUDGSICLES. Not the plain fudgsicles though, but the deluxe kind with the crumblies on the outside. It was essentially a life or death craving. So I walk into Vons and what do I see . . .

FIREMEN.

A whole squad, or unit, or flock, or whatever the group form is called. What is it about firemen that is so appealing? I don't care whether you are single or married or lesbian - they always require a second glance. And let me tell you, I stared like a common perv. Because the testosterone and other wafting pheromones just about knocked me over. I confess I felt a bit . . . awkward, checking out fudgsicles in my exercise clothes. But at that point, their lack of interest in me mattered about as much as their personalities.

The high that I was on for the rest of the night was NOT from exercise, I assure you. Thank you Lord for creating the fireman. I've decided that THAT is what I want for Christmas.

Slumdog Flumdog

Ah, the Oscars. An award show purportedly viewed by billions around the world (definitely not true so don't believe it); full of glitz and glamor, in which pawns like ourselves will drool over the designer gowns while the celebs hob-nob with one another and compare whose date is the hottest. And yet, somehow, I totally missed the whole thing. And I didn't even think about it until I checked the news this morning and saw who this year's lucky winners were. "Hm," said I, and continued on to more interesting things, like my ever-depleting 401K.

I always enjoyed watching the Academy Awards growing up, but the last few years have been so meh. Probably because the outfits aren't nearly ridiculous enough to keep me coming back. Even Tilda Swinton looked fairly normal, wonder of wonders. Although Phillip Seymour Hoffman looked pretty hashed. Presumably he wore that beanie because he knew he would never beat out Heath, so he figured, What the crap - I might as well just throw on this suit after I come back from robbing a bank.

But what I truly can't figure out is movie industry, because most movies are geared towards teenagers, and adults who act like teenagers, in order to make lots of money. Which is fine by me because money I love. But then you have the Academy, who once a year says, STOP! It's needs to be ART! And so they typically cast their votes for obscure movies that the average American has no desire to see, and probably hasn't even heard of. For example, The Dark Knight made $533m, while all the nominees for Best Picture earned $276m COMBINED. Maybe it's just me, but methinks the Academy is slightly out of touch with the public.

So tell me - what do you think? Do you cast your vote with the Academy, or with the masses? Or are you a true snob who hates both? (Don't be afraid to admit it. We love snobs here.)