Ok, maybe I’m late to this party because I don’t have cable and am generally cut off from mainstream media, but what the heck is the deal with Sandra Lee and this “Semi-Homemade” cooking ridiculousnes? Like, hello? This? This is not a recipe. Any “recipe” that calls for a package of Kraft macaroni and cheese mix and a cup of leftover broccoli florets is not a recipe. I’m also in awe of the “buy a cake and put some fruit on it” recipe. Like, do people seriously need instructions for this? Are people that dumb? Is it really that hard? And how has this woman built a career on it? Maybe I am some kind of horribly elitist food-hipster, but honestly. You can make food out of ingredients that don’t come in a box and it actually tastes better. Right now, I am looking at that website and laughing and laughing in disbelief, but on the inside, I weep. I weep and weep. I weep at the dessert whose main ingredient is Pilsbury crescent roll dough. But mostly I weep at the recipe for sangria that calls for Sprite. That is not sangria. That is merely punch. This food elitist thumbs her nose at it.
June, 2007
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Please, please, please can we make fun of this person?
June 29, 2007 by admin
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Much rejoicing!
June 29, 2007 by admin
The Manolo of Manolo’s Shoe Blog fame (which I admit I am only an occaisional follower of because I am not a shoe person, but I deeply admire anyone that funny who also is adamantly against both crocs and uggs), is starting a blog about clothes for fat girls! Hurrah, hurrah, hurrah, we cry! And! They’re looking for writers. I am very, very tempted to apply seeing as how I love clothes a little bit too much (and, yes, I have done some serious feminist analysis of my obsession and have decided that it’s ok because I approach it in a very DIY way, and besides, the third wave is about doing whatever you want and calling it feminism. Right? Um . . . ok, maybe not, but for some horrible women’s studies profs it sure seems that way. Not naming names or anything . . .), but since the clothes I love are more of the found-it-at-goodwill-and-glued-some-fringe-to-it variety rather than the “designer” variety, I probably don’t actually qualify. But still. It’s good news.
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Hmm.
June 24, 2007 by admin
Do you know what I would like more of in my life? Making out. More making out definitely needs to happen.
Um, that’s all. Sorry if you were subjected to my overly-emo rant earlier today that I have since had the good sense to take down. It’s been a strange weekend. But, hey! Look how great the Dutch are!
Oh, and I’m going to Port Elgin this coming weekend, so you’re all invited to come play on the beach with me. We’ll even build a sandcastle.
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Vocabulary lesson
June 21, 2007 by admin
1. First, I must acknowledge a debt to Emily and Jody for inventing what has now become one of the most important words in my entire life: classbag. For those who are not aware, classbag is typically used in an ironic sense to refer to someone who is not classy. It is best used, in my estimation, to describe oneself when one is doing something that is normally classy while simultaeneously doing something that negates that classiness. An exellent use of classbag in a sentence would be: “Last night I was sipping a glass of chilled white wine. However, I was sipping it while sitting in my basement in my underwear and watching Truth or Dare. I am such a classbag.” (Please note that this is just an example, and I am by no means suggesting that it is a typical Saturday night in the life of Alexandra.) (It’s actually a typical Friday night.)
2. The word “smoothbag” is another word from the same linguistic family that evolved over the course of the other day. I’m certain, intelligent readers, that you can extrapolate its meaning based on the above definition of classbag.
3. Another important addition to the lexicon is the term “boroda.” To truly understand from whence comes this word, you would either have to be me or Amy or spend a lot of time with us as we develop new linguistic concepts. The linguistic origins of this term are slavic, and it used to describe a chance meeting with someone from your dark past that you are always worried that you might have a random run in with. One is typically always in a state of mental preparation for said hypothetical run-in (in order to appear to have achieved ultimate coolness), however, no amount of preparation can actually ready a person for when the unlikely event actually occurs. The moment of horror and ackwardness (sometimes tinged with vestiges of old, imagined sexual tension) is the boroda. The term can also be used descriptively, as in “I was walking around minding my own business when I was suddenly borodaed.” A particularly bad instance of boroda can be called a borodafuck. A good example of both boroda and smoothbag in a sentence would be: “I was walking around minding my own business when all of a sudden I was borodafucked by the boy I had a crush on in grade nine. I naturally reacted like a total smoothbag and stammered a bit with my mouth hanging open. I hope he is enjoying his successful career as an astrophysicist with the body of a Nordic god.” (This example really, really is just an example – I have not actually experienced any boroda of late – but does represent my ultimate boroda.)
Comprehension Exercise
Write a paragraph of no fewer than five sentences that includes the following terms:
classbag, smoothbag, boroda, Madonna, gin
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Clarification:
June 15, 2007 by admin
Even though I will probably be hanging out with a lot of hippies tomorrow, I just wanted to make sure you are all still aware of the fact that I am not a hippie. There are many things that distinguish me from hippies, but the ones that come to mind at present include:
1. I think patchouli is the grossest thing.
2. Any idealism I once had has been effectively drowned in a hearty dose of disillusioned cynicism.
3. Yes, I wear birkenstocks, but mine are not of the brown, earthy, practical persuasion, and rather are made of lime green lamé.On an unrelated note, does anyone know how to type with accents and things in blogger? Everytime I want to write something with an accent aigu or similar I end up opening up Word, typing the one character that I need, and then cutting and pasting it into blogger, and it has just struck me that this is an inefficient and ridiculous practice.
One more thing that distinguishes me from hippies: I worry about efficiency.
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Sneak Preview!
June 13, 2007 by admin
Blog posts I am thinking of writing this coming week include:
1. An academic analysis of why Rebecca Eckler fucking sucks and how this stupid lawsuit of hers is only the most recent development in an ongoing saga of utter stupidity.
2. A post about how I’ve had a crush on Seth Rogen since Freaks and Geeks came out in 1999 and how I am thus so on top of the new trend of thinking he is great and may in fact have started that trend.
3. A post about how I’m so on top of the new trend about vitamin D preventing cancer because I’ve been taking it every day (but not enough to become toxic, don’t worry) since November in a vain attempt to ward off seasonal affective disorder.
4. My semi-annual post about my irrational fear of melanoma.
5. A post about how excited I am about the Cyndi Lauper/Debbie Harry/Gossip concert next Tuesday.
6. An in-depth analysis of the merits of the shaken margarita over the blended margarita (main point being: shaken is classier because blended bears too great of a resemblance to 7-11 slurpees).
7. Something pretty funny about how I’ve decided that today is officially Cocktail Dress Wedesday, and how I am thus dressed accordingly.
8. One of those posts about how boys are dumb.
9. A post about all of my great ideas for blog posts that I never actually get around to writing and about how I end up writing lists (that don’t even go up to ten) instead.
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Dear David Lynch (again),
June 8, 2007 by admin
Wouldn’t it be great if I changed the title of this blog to Letters to David Lynch and all of the entries from now on were just letters to you? Considering the blogosphere is all but dead because everyone seems to have jumped ship, it might be a good idea. Because you’d probably actually find out about it, and then you might give me some free coffee and a role in your next film (which will be facilitated by my pending move to Los Angeles).
Anyhow, I went to see that new pirate movie the other day, and, dude, you’re not fooling me – you directed it, didn’t you? That was clever, using the pseudonym “Gore Verbinski,” but if you rearrange the letters it spells “green ski bvoi” which might maybe be a Twin Peaks reference if you think really hard about it, which clearly shows that Gore Verbinski is actually you. I mean, the movie wasn’t quite as confusing as Inland Empire was, and was slightly more linear, but it didn’t actually make any real sense, and that scene with Johnny Depp’s nose and the peanut was a dead giveaway.
But, seriously, David Lynch, the real purpose of my letter to you today is to ask your opinion: which of the following fabrics do you (or anyone who might be eavesdropping on our correspondance) think would be nicest as a contrast print on a dress? This is a very important question, and only your expert opinion will enable me to make a choice that feels right.
Should I use these birds, these birds, berries, or zinnias? Right now I am leaning towards either the first birds or the zinnias.
Thanks for your help.
Lots of love,
AlexandraCategory Uncategorized | Tags: | 3 Comments
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Dear David Lynch,
June 2, 2007 by admin
Your new movie made my brain hurt. If asked to describe it I would have to say it was about how Hollywood is bad for you, Poland is cold, lamps are terrifying and bunnies. But that’s ok, because you don’t know what it’s about either. I predict that it will become one of those midnight screening kind of movies where everyone goes and shouts things at the screen and then we can all dance along with the locomotion. Audience participation will probably help the movie not give me the vaguely uncomfortable feeling that I’ve got right now, because then we’ll all be in it together.
I think I’m going to go watch some videos about nasal irrigation. That will make me feel less uncomfortable.
Love,
Alexandra
PS: Thanks a lot for making me want to NEVER MOVE TO LOS ANGELES because it is apparently a horrible, creepy place where everyone gets stabbed in the gut with screwdrivers.
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