Are you ready for some (college) football?

I sure am, especially with the Sox tanking and all.

ND kicks off the season this weekend against Georgia Tech. Check out the Underground Notre Dame Glossary to get yourself in the mood.
via Lisa

The Scream recovered

Edward Munch's famous painting The Scream has been recovered by police in Norway, two years after it was stolen from the Munch Museum by armed gunmen.

I am fascinated by cases of stolen art. Who buys it? What do they do with it? If I were a eccentric, rich, and unethical person and I bought a stolen masterpiece, especially one whose theft was highly publicized, what would I do with it? Hang it in a secret room and only show it to my most trusted friends? Put it in a storage facility and never let anyone know I have it? Hang it in plain view and kill anyone who dared to gaze upon it?

Speaking of artwork, I think it would be quite fun to own this.

OK Go videos

I think I posted the fantastic treadmill video before, but I was unaware that a previous video existed. Watch OK Go dance to their song A Million Ways. I love it! It sort of reminds me of this old gem, which I loved then and still love now.

Not nearly exciting as it sounds

My imagination ran wild when I read this headline: Sweden's Pirate Party Presents Their Election Manifesto. A Pirate Party? Arrrgh! Rum for all! Tax breaks on peg legs and hooks! Invade Norway!

....then I read the manifesto. It's just some boring crap about copyright laws.

Exchange of the day

Ern, Maria, and I went out last night to the Playwright, played trivia, and met some interesting gentlemen. One took a shine to Ern, leading to the following exchange:

guy: What's your name?
Ern: Erin.
guy: Like Aryan Brotherhood?
Ern: No, not Aryan, Ern!
guy: Oh, I was going to ask if you have a spiderweb tattoo on your elbow.

Seriously, folks, who hasn't heard of the name Erin? Especially in South Boston, where approximately one out of ever four girls is named Erin.

Massachusetts: We're wicked smart

at least in math. See?


And do you know what's wicked awesome? This poster. (via RT)

Federer watch

Readers of this blog may be aware of my obsession with Roger Federer...apparently I'm not the only one dazzled by his play. Here's a lengthy article from the New York Times about the best (and best looking) tennis player in the world, Federer as a Religious Experience. He's also one of ESPN.com's eight reasons to watch the U.S. Open:

We've said it before and we'll say it again: You don't need an oversize racket in your closet to appreciate Roger Federer, any more than you need an art history degree to appreciate the Sistine Chapel. Like Tiger Woods -- the athlete he's most often compared to -- the Swiss star plays an aesthetically pleasing game that can be enjoyed by anyone with a passing interest in athletics; if Federer were a Radiohead album, he'd be "The Bends," not "Kid A."

and here's a gratuitous photo:



"Hey, Roger, that white blazer would look great on my bedroom floor."

Photohunt

This photo made me laugh.













but something about the candid shot of three confused-looking people seemed oddly familiar.

Oh yes, it reminded me of this:














With John Lithgow as myself, Heidi Klum as Jon, and the grandfather from Arrested Development playing the role of Mike. Except they're dressed up at the Emmys, whereas we were slightly intoxicated riding the London Underground.

And I thought these two were gonna make it

Looks like Bruce and Patti may have gone the way of Brenda and Eddie. Too bad; I always liked those two together. Stupid husband-stealing 9/11 widows!

Weekend Report

Despite the fact that I had absolutely zero plans come Friday afternoon, the weekend turned out to be quite eventful.

Friday- After work, I went out to eat with Carolina, Jose, and Megan, and we stopped into a random Chinese restaurant to grab a drink. I don't even know the name of the place, because it was in Chinese, but the bartender was from Nicaragua and made us some kick-ass mixed drinks- potent and delicious but not too sweet. We then headed out to the movies, where we met up with Ern and saw Little Miss Sunshine. We got there just as the movie was starting and ended up sitting in the second row, which due to our inebriated state, was more amusing than annoying. Ern told us that we smelled like hobos, "loud hobos," and to STFU and watch the movie. We did, and it was great! Since it's an independent film, it's not playing in all theaters, but if you get a chance, go see it. The plot is simple enough: dysfunctional family goes on road trip, things go awry, and hilarity ensues. The ensemble cast, featuring Toni Collete as the mom, Steve Carell as the suicidal gay Proust scholar/uncle, and Alan Arkin as the heroin snorting grandfather, is a pleasure to watch on screen. Of all of the characters, the sullen teenage son who is in the midst of a year-long vow of silence was my favorite. And did I mention that it's hilarious? Oh my gosh, during the horn honking scene, I was laughing so hard that tears streamed down my face. So take my advice and go see it, you won't be disappointed. Unless you hate laughter.
We ran into some friends at the movie and all decided to go back to the Chinatown restaurant for some more fabulous drinks. Since our group had increased in size, they opened the second floor karaoke lounge for us, so we spend the next couple of hours enjoying hurricanes and butchering classic songs like "Gangsta's Paradise" and "Edelweiss". I sang solo on "More Than Words" by Extreme, and I was wicked pumped up about it. Later on, three guys from El Salvador showed up and sang La Bamba and a bunch of rancheras, (but sadly, no La Puerta Negra). At one point, Jose said to me "Come to the men's bathroom with me. I have to show you something." Heh- I've heard that one before. Curious, I followed him, and in the men's bathroom a trap door in the ceiling was partially opened, revealing a folding staircase. I pulled it down and climbed up, and it lead to an enormous, pitch-black attic/secret passageway. I was too scared to explore further, fearful that I would stumble upon some illegal gambling operation or human trafficking, but Jose climbed up and wandered around until he tripped on a can of paint and got a splinter. We all decided to high-tail it out of there before the night got even stranger (or we got even drunker).

Saturday- Ern and I had originally planned to drive out to Western Mass to hike Mt. Greylock, but since Friday's Chinatown adventures left us a bit hungover, those plans were tossed out the window. Instead, we picked up our friend Mark in Worcester and climbed Mt. Wachusett. After an enjoyable 2 hour hike, we found the Wachusett Brewing Company and went on a brewery tour. Here are a couple of photos:



That night, I met up with some more Framingham natives. Brianna was in town, so I met up with her, her dad, Arturo, and Mulvey at a townie bar in Quincy. Good times were had by all. Here's a good picture of everyone else but a bad picture of me- I don't know why my mouth is open like that, but I promised everyone they'd have their day in the sun on DCoE.
Arturo also told me about a music video he appears in called Pervert in the Park. Quality entertainment...the hammers might recognize some of our classmates.

Sunday- Did some errands, played soccer in the rain, and had dinner at Kerry and Adam's house with an Irish friend- my name twin, Eileen- who is in town visiting her aunt and uncle.

On Notice

All of my most abhored things, watch your collective back. You're On Notice!


via 13dfm

Make your own Colbert On Notice board here

Train in Vain

Goldenfiddle has a bunch of songs about trains up for grabs; just right-click and save. Get 'em while they're hot!

Oh internet, I bow down in amazement to your powers

A couple of weeks ago the authors of Go Fug Yourself mentioned the fact that Courtney Cox was once the cover model on a pre-teen girly fiction novel during the 1980s. Lo and behold, one of their readers located the actual book, The Last Word.

Then, Sarah from Que Sera Sera drops some heavy allusions to the pinnacle of the pre-teen girly novel series, The Baby-sitters Club, into one of her posts. Yes, in addition to reading Roald Dahl and The Pushcart War, in my younger days I also pulled The Babysitters Club and Sweet Valley High off the shelves of the library's Young Adult section.

I started reminiscing about the babysitting adventures of Kristy, Claudia, Mary Anne, and the diabetic one, and I suddenly recalled the fact that my best friend Kim, who modeled as a child, once appeared on the box of a Baby-Sitters Club board game. And I bet you all can guess what happened next....no, it had nothing to do with a pterodactyl, guess again....yes, I found the game:

The green arrow is pointing to Kim. Such is the power of the internet.

Just wondering

Did you ever have a sex dream about someone completely random who you've never consciously been attracted to, like someone from work, and then the next day you run into them and are completely mortified and paranoid that somehow they'll be able to tell that you had a sex dream about them, and your worrying about their possible mind-reading capabilities makes you act all strange and awkward?

No? Me neither. I was just wondering.

I'm secretly a fan of...

Joan Rivers. She's tacky and ridiculous and oh so hilarious. Don't believe me? Check out this clip of her presenting at an awards ceremony in Australia. My favorite part is when she tosses the award statue over her shoulder.

Internet round up

Here are some stories and posts of interest:

How to become a regular. The tips seem to be skewed towards becoming a regular at a fancy restaurant. If you want advice on how to become a regular at Dunkin Donuts or your neighborhood dive bar, I will gladly oblige. I can almost be considered a regular at the bar across the street from my apartment. I know the bartenders and the bouncers, and I get invited to the annual Christmas party (free booze!).
via Mike

Quiz: How Massachusetts are you? 100% Masshole, baby!
via Universal Hub

Top Ten Signs You're an Older Student. I can relate.
via Tricia

and lastly, Forbes.com throws it back to the 1950's with this article: Don't Marry Career Women. Most of their broad generalizations:

While everyone knows that marriage can be stressful, recent studies have found professional women are more likely to get divorced, more likely to cheat, less likely to have children, and, if they do have kids, they are more likely to be unhappy about it.

about "career women" are probably also true about "career men." I bet everyone would be happier if they didn't have a stressful job to go to every day. I also believe that it's hard to ascertain anything from their statistics because, other than the fact that they don't provide any, they don't control for income. Any family where one parent can afford to stay at home, be it mom or dad, is probably wealthier than a family with two working parents. Hey Forbes.com, take your blatantly sexist article and go suck a dong.
via Boing Boing

Update: after Boing Boing made fun of the Forbes article, it was mocked so thouroghly on the internet that Forbes.com took it down. Then, after determining that that move made them look like wimps in addition to sexists, they put it back up along with a counterpoint article. However, the accompanying slide show that went with the original article was not reposted. Good thing Gawker used the slide show to come up with their own comical summary of the article.

Music Roundup

I just received two CDs I ordered from Amazon. The first was Z, by My Morning Jacket. Eri, Caro, and I listened to Eri's copy of the CD many times during our cross-country road trip and found it to be the perfect soundtrack through the long desert sections of our journey. Inspired by Mr. Jinxy's recent raves about the band, I decided to order my own copy, and it's great. The only drawback is that it's one of those protected CDs that aren't compatible with all computer music systems. Mine plays on the Windows Media Player but won't play on my iTunes. Boo.

Since I'm a sucker for the Amazon super shipping savings thing, I decided to spend an extra $13 to hit the $25 mark and save myself a whopping $5. I picked up Ghosts of the Great Highway, a 2003 release by Sun Kil Moon. This band was another road trip find for me, as Jon and I first heard them on a college radio station while driving down to the Jersey shore a couple of summers ago. Jon bought the CD and recommended it, although unfortunately for me, he is morally opposed to burning albums, so I finally got around to picking myself up a copy. I'm really enjoying it. Both My Morning Jacket and Sun Kil Moon are good, mellow rock bands. And I mean mellow in a bad-ass way, not in a pathetic whiny way like Barf Cab for Cutie or Barfboard Confessional, who I hope someday get in an emo band death match, although they probably wouldn't be able to kill each other and end up collaborating on a wussy song about the ordeal, with which will they will continue to torment me by its incessant playing on alternative radio. Ugh. Speaking of major suckage, do you know what else sucks? That new song by the Killers. I bought their last album, and although I liked a couple of the tracks, I wasn't overwhelmed. But the new song blows. The lyrics are ridiculous:

He doesn't look a thing like Jesus
But he talks like a gentlemen
Like you imagined when you were young

Um, right. Don't think I'll be buying the new album.

What right-wingers see when they read the New York Times

Tee hee!
My favorite altered headline is: Liberal Media Blasts Heartland with Deadly Heat Ray

via Freakgirl and GitM

Found

FOUND is a magazine that compiles accidentally discovered items, such as notes and pictures tucked into library books. The FOUND website features a Found Item of the day, like this confession note. We had our own find of the day yesterday, when my cousin found a folded up sheet of paper tucked in the corner of the reception room at Anthony's Pier 4. It was someone's (the bride's?) typewritten toast from a rehearsal dinner. My scanner is broken, so I'll just transcribe it here:

Thank you all for coming we are so honored that you are here to join us.

Sharon and Jimmy- I wanted to say a special thank you for everything-this is such a memorable night! Everything looks fabulous and your support this year and always has been incredible.

And I just have a little something for you, Matthew.

Six years ago today, a college sophomore left the golden state
He got to Emory and began to date the girl who tomorrow will become his mate

Now six wonderful years have past
With countless memories that will surely last

We now have a cozy one bedroom on the Upper East Side
With a flat screen television and a tv guide

We have a great time in New York City
Except for no Lakers, Raiders, and Dodgers- what a pity!

I know you are filled with California dreams
I present you this grooms cake to honor your favorite sports teams.

Okay, I realize that I am a bad person for making fun of some happy bride's attempt at poetry, but some of those rhymes were PAINFUL! Upper East Side, tv guide? New York City, what a pity? My cousins and I were cracking up. Note to self: in the future, when making a toast, avoid the temptation to use rhyming couplets.

Book Review: That book with a really long title

I finally finished reading the really long book with a really long title: No Matter How Much You Promise to Cook or Pay the Rent You Blew It Cauze Bill Bailey Ain't Never Coming Home Again, by Edgardo Vega Yunque. The book centers around the adventures of a young New Yorker, Vidamia Farrell, half Puerto Rican and half Irish-American, and the story begins when she decides to search for her birth father. She locates Bill Farrell and learns that he was a jazz prodigy who stopped playing piano after he lost two fingers in Vietnam, and is delighted to meet the tribe of vivacious, blonde, musical half-siblings. Although Vidamia is the protagonist, the novel often steers away from her, and each character who is introduced comes with 20 pages of family history and back stories ranging from Puerto Rico to the rural South. Some readers tire of such tactics, but I never got bored with the sidetracks. The first three quarters of the novel are a beautiful composition about family, identity, race, jazz, and New York City, and one can't help but adore the righteous Vidamia and the people she encounters, from her sweet Southern stepmother to her womanizing, bongo-playing grandfather. However, towards the end of the book a group of villains are introduced, and the tone darkens rapidly. Remember the shocking scene in American History X when Edward Norton stomps on that kid's head? Well, the worst scene is this book is about 100 times more graphic, disturbing, and violent. I bought a copy of the book as a birthday gift for a friend before I got to that section, and now I feel wary about giving it to her. Like, "here's this book that's wonderful and inspiring and lyrical, except for the brutal rape and murder scene that's so horrifying I almost threw up while I was reading it. Enjoy!"
In summary, I give this book a 9 out of 10 on the Eileen scale, but with two major caveats:
1. it's long and wanders off track a lot, and some people don't like that sort of storytelling
2. You might not be able to handle the bad parts- here's one of the reader comments from Amazon: "When I encountered the sexual violent scene I had to get up and walk away. As a vet I read through the Vietnam memories in a cathartic nod; but when the sexual violence was crammed into my face I put the book down. I no longer cared about the book's ending."