Several weeks ago I was speaking with my mother, denying her assertation that I am difficult to buy Christmas presents for. Apparently no one knew what to get for me.
"I'm so easy," I said. "The more random the gift, the better. I like any gadget--go to Sharper Image or Williams-Sonoma, and get the most ridiculous thing you can find, and I'll love it."
I mentioned last year, when my little brother almost bought me a Crème Brûlée set, instead opting for a quesadilla maker. He bought the quesadilla maker because he found it to be slightly more obnoxious and impractical, and therefore a better gift. Perfect. "But the creme brulee maker would have been good too," I said.
Fast forward to Christmas 2006.
First Christmas present:
The Crème Brûlée set.
Second Christmas present:
The Crème Brûlée set.
Third Christmas present:
Pre-made Crème Brûlées, ready to torch.
Fourth Christmas present:
Fancy Crème Brûlée sugar, and a box of pre-made "Classic Crème Brûlée Mix," 32 oz (I couldn't find a picture on the web), should I wish to make my own and not have to deal with cracking 10,000 eggs.
I will be making Crème Brûlée every day for the rest of my life. Feel free to come over and have some with me, I've got plenty to spare. Never joke with the Renzis, they will call you on it.
I love the torches, btw. I'm going to be carmelizing everything in sight.
I also mentioned I want/need a new cell phone, but I don't know which one to get.
So Mom bought me this one compliments of Barbie, to tide me over until I make up my mind.
And then she gave me a bottle of Pasha de Cartier:
Are you thinking what I'm thinking? The bottle is approximately 7 inches long. Is this a subliminal message?... I may be single, but I'm not that desperate, thank you very much.
Smells really good.
Speaking of dirtyisms...this holds great potential:
Except the one I got was red. There's no way you can look at all these detachable parts and not think Hmmm....paddle attachments.
...and then they brought me into the bathroom and there waiting for me in the tub was this:
Daniel Craig?!? Naked?!?!?!?!?!? How did they know? I can't wait to hook up the Smart Stick and use it on him! Just kidding. I didn't really get Daniel Craig's exposed naughty bits for Christmas. 'Twould have been a great gift, though. I wonder if Daniel Craig likes Crème Brûlée? I'll make him some the next time I see him.
I really did get the rest of the stuff. Including the Smart Stick.
Hello, and welcome to your Monday. I hope your Monday is bringing you lots of presents, whether or not you celebrate Christmas. Is Hannukah over? I think I remember seeing only one non-lit candle on the menorah, when I was in menorah-vicinity a few days ago. Bummer. Oh well, go buy yourself something nice. You should always give a present to yourself, you are just as important as anyone else.
We have a few important things to discuss:
1) To all the people who send mass text messages on holidays: Just so you know...we're all aware they mean nothing other than "Hi, your number is in my phone. I don't care enough to actually talk to you, but I don't want you to forget me in case I need something from you someday. I don't even know I'm sending this to you anyway, as I'm just sending to everyone all at once."
They load up my phone while I am trying to dial a number, preventing me from actually making a call.
My friends and I have all agreed, we delete them without reading a-one. And how do I know this? Because my friends and I talk to each other.
At least when you send a Christmas card, it's fun. And when you sign it, you're thinking about the person for a moment.
2) We have a new addition to the blogroll family, over under the "known in real-life" section, Say La Vee, written by a Mrs. Blackbird somethingorother. Stop by and say "hi." She's fun.
3) Dear Santa Claus: I'm sorry to bother you after your exhausting night out, flying all over the planet. But my neice R has a slight complaint. It seems you neglected to deliver her new trumpet, as she requested. True, you did bring her a lovely new bike, which most people would think is a much nicer present for a 5-year-old girl; alas, R is entirely unsatisfied with said bike, and wishes to make an exchange. If you thought the noise from a trumpet would mar the festivities on Christmas Day, you should see R when she is pissed. If she's not happy, no one is happy.
I can work a room much easier than I can talk one-on-one. Standing in front of a crowd is like steering a ship, you just spin the wheel in a direction and keep the motors running, and everything will work out. Just give me the mic and I'll be fine, I'll think of something. On a date, why do I talk so much? I'm a nervous wreck.
I usually don't care what people think of the stuff I do. My theory is: if I'm always trying my best, if you don't like it there's nothing I can do about that. I can only be disappointed if I screw it up for myself by not being prepared. It's a good way to live life, methinks.
Standing on this stage, in front of the...what...50 people?...60?...small crowd, whatever it was, I literally almost vomited. I was slated to read last, which gave me the opportunity to sit through 4 other people do really well. Great. No pressure. Their stuff: really funny. Mine...not meant to be funny, really. And it's a little weird. And it's, like, totally gay. Hopefully this room filled with predominately heterosexuals will still get into it.
I read a few selections of this. I wanted to see how it sounded out loud.
Turns out, it worked pretty well.
Actually, I liked it better.
When do you start that diet? When do you start making those plans? When do you start going for it?
How scary to think if you don't start right now, perhaps you never will.
I just saw it at a press screening, where they also gave away tickets on the radio. Almost everyone in the audience was black, and almost all of them were women. I totally felt at home.
The movie: LOVED it.
The way I can explain the movie is this: Bill Condon's last film was Chicago. I thought Chicago was beautiful, the art direction was perfect, the choreography was perfect, the editing was perfect. I really liked it. But it lacked...oomph. There was no 'wow' factor. There was never a point where I thought I am watching something amazing. It was just an artsy movie, very good, perhaps a little sterile.
Dreamgirls was not perfect. Lots of weird editing, the lip syncing didn't match the songs sometimes, some of the songs were cheesy. But then, there were moments when I literally became short of breath. The way Beyonce' would stare out of the screen, or Jennifer Hudson would give the slightest roll of her eyes--perfect. Brilliant performances, Eddie Murphy and Jamie Foxx and everyone all around. You forgive the film's flaws. I wish all movies were this big.
I was expecting a big, noisy gospel-infused movie, I was ready to sit in the audience and rave about how much I love big black women who can sing, being a stereotype by buying into stereotypes. But it's much more sophisticated, much much more than I expected from hearing the songs in the trailers.
Who knew Beyonce Knowles could act? (Goldmember, anyone?) Who knew JENNIFER HUDSON could act?
We have a lot to talk about today, this is a long one. Things we need to discuss before you continue to live for a moment of your life:
1) If you are in the NYC metropolitan area, please consider attending the WYSIWYG Talent Show at the Bowery Poetry Club, Wednesday, Dec. 20. Once a month, blog people read stuff they've written, usually based on a theme. This theme: Tales of "Extreme Inebriation" or "Extreme Intoxication" or something of the sort. I'll be reading something, although it's meant for 2 people to read together, and I need to find someone to read with me. Why are all my friends scared of getting up in front of a microphone for 10 minutes?
The next day, I will be conducting my own taste test of bakeries in New York, comparing cupcakes. Magnolia Bakery has for too long reigned supreme, it's time to shake things up. Yes, I'll spend all day eating cupcakes. ALL DAY.
2) How to have a fun party: I have attended Christmas parties--yes, Christmas, not Holiday, fear not the sectarian designation, we can all still be friends--every night for the past week. Will the hangovers ever end? Last night's fete was deep in the suburbs, where every house on the block sported the exact same mailbox. Very Edward Scissorhands. They should consider trimming their bushes into shapes of animals and such. Anyway--we were all instructed to wear ties, and of course no one did, causing the host to throw his head back in a little snit and stomp off to his bedroom to find a tie from his own personal collection. He made all males wear one regardless of their outfits. I was wearing a grey T-shirt, which was very nice by the way, and I ended up with a hideous gorgeous paisley tie in hues of black and silver, perfect match. The ladies could wear one too, if they wanted, no fair excluding them. It's little details like that which make parties fun. When in doubt, give your party a theme. I highly recommend it, everyone loosened up and we had a lovely time.
3) I've been reading the blog of a guy named Vern, who lives in Malaysia--he's the manager for Ning Baizura, who is known as the "Malaysian Madonna," as she often finds herself embroiled in scandal and makes the most of it by releasing another hit record. Her song "Drama" may be the gayest thing I have ever heard, and I don't even know what the hell she's saying.
I learned of her because of an incident years ago, when she landed herself in hot water with the (extremely conservative Muslim) Malaysian government when she appeared in a concert with an exposed belly-button. Sacré bleu! That Ning, always causing a ruckus. Because I'm Ning's #1 American fan, check out a blog post of her concert here. PS: Be careful, there are some posts in there that are NOT work-safe. Nakedness abounds. I can't imagne the Malaysian government is too happy about that either.