Finally! The trailer for the new Muppets movie!
My favorite of these remains The Great Muppet Caper - I look forward to seeing if this one matches up.
Showing posts with label nostalgia. Show all posts
Showing posts with label nostalgia. Show all posts
Monday, May 23, 2011
Friday, May 13, 2011
MY HEART ACHES WITH NOSTALGIA FOR MY YOUTH!
OMG. This is the BEST THING EVER.
Honestly I think my favorite part might just be the VHS title card for Walt Disney Home Video.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Trolls Now Look Like Sluts
You guys remember trolls, right? Well check out what the NEW trolls look like:
 |
| Via The Hairpin |
First of all, trolls are not only an American pastime, they are, in fact (and more traditionally), a Norwegian pastime.
I only know this because growing up my father did a lot of business with Norway and there were always Norwegians just like chillin' at my house with names like Bjorn and Peter-Bjorn and Bjorn-Bjorn and we always used to get trolls as gifts and they looked a lot more like the trolls I already played with (the ones on the left in the picture, duh), except a lot uglier. So, like, they ended up in our formal dining room in a weird diorama setting that served as an ode to my dad's foreign business. Or something.
So already, the Americanized version of the troll was just a lot prettier than the original Norwegian ugly/scary version (no offense to Bjorn, Peter-Bjorn or Bjorn-Bjorn). I don't even know how this Norwegian tchtochke ever transitioned to the United States, but it did, and man - trolls were awesome. I had a LOT of trolls. And I even recall going to a troll-themed birthday party. And remember the baby trolls? Those little fuckers were cute.
I remember playing with trolls with my friend Amy the day I found out my grandma died. I was so upset that Amy offered me one of her most beloved trolls (one of the ones with the gemstone in the belly-button, which was like, the MOST awesome) which is not only a sign of true friendship (yes, Amy remains one of my best friends today - and it's her birthday tomorrow, so this is all quite perfectly timed) but a sign of how awesome trolls were. I mean, if you think about it, it's totally weird, but it was just like, one of those phenomenons of the 90s (although apparently these trolls first came onto the scene in the 1960s? Who knew!?!).
So imagine my outrage when I discovered today that the look of the trolls has been updated. And what do they look like? Sluts. Trolls are now slutty.
Look, no one wants a slutty troll. Part of the joy of the troll doll is that it's ugly, yet somehow also cute. Like a Furby or a Chia Pet or certain breeds of dogs. Trolls are certainly are not slutty.
Speaking of slutty - apparently all these AMAZING toys and characters from our youth are being updated - and yes, they all look slutty. THIS. IS. BULLSHIT. I mean look at those trolls! I know the midriff-baring look is all hot in the fashion circles right now, but again, ON TROLLS - trolls who no longer have pudgy bellies and potato-sack clothes (if they were even wearing clothes) - they should not be wearing midriff-baring outfits. You know what? These trolls look like Bratz dolls. In other words - slutty and gross and inappropriate for children to be playing with.
In sum, I'm going to tell my dad to get me Bjorn or Peter-Bjorn or Bjorn-Bjorn on the phone because I vote we just get those nasty little Norwegian trolls over to America to show all these new slutty trolls what's up. Who's with me?
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Fashion Musings: 26 Going on 14
I'm wearing a massive pink bow in my hair today. It's a barrette, sitting perched on top of my head, a little to the right, giving the bow a nice tilt. It's nearly identical to a bow I wore often as a little girl.
From about the age of 3 until I was 13 my mother did my hair the same way everyday - pulled up and to the side, and fastened with a bow or barrette.
Recently I've been going through a phase where it's like I'm really trying to hang onto my childhood through my fashion and accessory choices. The thing is - it's fun. When you're a kid you don't care. You wear what you want because it makes you happy. So on a day like today, channeling the kid inside me I can totally wear bright blue pants and a bright orange shirt and a huge pink bow in my hair and maybe an over-sized blazer because it's sort of silly and it makes me happy.
This becomes slightly awkward, of course, when you're approached by an actual child...
See, here I am sitting at my desk, typing up some updates for our studio development grid with my boss standing next to me, when a co-worker walks by with his two kids. They're cute kids, one boy, one girl - maybe around age 10 or something. Or they might have been like 12. Maybe 8? (actually, I have no idea - I really can't distinguish children's ages all that well just yet). As they pass by us and their Dad says hello they happen to be staring at my large desk space. All of a sudden the little girl cries:
"McDonald's toys!"
At which point I'm thinking, oh boy.
And sure enough, about two seconds after looking at Lego toy car, she cries:
"Silly bandz!"
She's spotted my prominent jewelry choice and now comes to stand right in front of me for a close examination of my selection of Silly Bandz.
At this point, my boss is just laughing at me. Here I am - his 26 year old assistant, with a giant pink bow in her hair, happily conversing with a little kid over a mutual interest in toys, bright colors, shiny objects, and air. Then I gave her one of my Silly Bandz, a pink fairy that also glows in the dark. Let's just say I was the coolest of her dad's co-workers she met today, that is for sure. Whether or not it's a sign I need to grow up, I think I'll ignore. So maybe just about every one of my co-workers today has made a remark about the bow, I don't care. It's fun and it's me. Ironically, it's back to the "truest" version of me - the same girl wearing a big pink bow, smiling at all the bright colors and laughing at air.
From about the age of 3 until I was 13 my mother did my hair the same way everyday - pulled up and to the side, and fastened with a bow or barrette.
 | |||
| With my two cousins. Can you guess which one is me? |
This becomes slightly awkward, of course, when you're approached by an actual child...
See, here I am sitting at my desk, typing up some updates for our studio development grid with my boss standing next to me, when a co-worker walks by with his two kids. They're cute kids, one boy, one girl - maybe around age 10 or something. Or they might have been like 12. Maybe 8? (actually, I have no idea - I really can't distinguish children's ages all that well just yet). As they pass by us and their Dad says hello they happen to be staring at my large desk space. All of a sudden the little girl cries:
"McDonald's toys!"
At which point I'm thinking, oh boy.
And sure enough, about two seconds after looking at Lego toy car, she cries:
"Silly bandz!"
She's spotted my prominent jewelry choice and now comes to stand right in front of me for a close examination of my selection of Silly Bandz.
At this point, my boss is just laughing at me. Here I am - his 26 year old assistant, with a giant pink bow in her hair, happily conversing with a little kid over a mutual interest in toys, bright colors, shiny objects, and air. Then I gave her one of my Silly Bandz, a pink fairy that also glows in the dark. Let's just say I was the coolest of her dad's co-workers she met today, that is for sure. Whether or not it's a sign I need to grow up, I think I'll ignore. So maybe just about every one of my co-workers today has made a remark about the bow, I don't care. It's fun and it's me. Ironically, it's back to the "truest" version of me - the same girl wearing a big pink bow, smiling at all the bright colors and laughing at air.
 |
| My Pink Bow |
Monday, June 07, 2010
Oh, Mexico
I've been catching up on my pile of New Yorker subscriptions and not too long ago read a fascinating article about Mexico. The digital version of it is here, and I highly suggest reading it.
Essentially, Mexico is fucked. It's tragic really; the country is resembling a failed state, much thanks to the dominance of the drug cartels, government corruption, and a myriad of other problems.
I realize it's rare that I get talking about other topics besides TV or stupid personal anecdotes, but I think it's so important to educate yourself - and when I read something I especially enjoy, I like to share it.
Also - I have a soft spot for Mexico. It's a beautiful country with fascinating history and culture - and I went to summer camp there for six weeks when I was 13. It was a great summer, and I have many fond memories.
Essentially, Mexico is fucked. It's tragic really; the country is resembling a failed state, much thanks to the dominance of the drug cartels, government corruption, and a myriad of other problems.
I realize it's rare that I get talking about other topics besides TV or stupid personal anecdotes, but I think it's so important to educate yourself - and when I read something I especially enjoy, I like to share it.
Also - I have a soft spot for Mexico. It's a beautiful country with fascinating history and culture - and I went to summer camp there for six weeks when I was 13. It was a great summer, and I have many fond memories.
Friday, April 09, 2010
Storytime! (Alternate Title: Bizarre Musings on a Friday Afternoon)
There once was a pickle named Bob...
That's how I like to start stories. Well, not really, but have you ever played that game where you make up a story and everyone contributes a line? I used to crack myself up everytime I got the chance to anthropomorphize an inanimate object, especially a vegetable.
Speaking of stories, I'm reminded of the second grade, when I wrote a story about a squirrel named Corny. Apparently it was a hit because in no time I was sitting at the top of the Corny Empire, delegating out various books to classmates to write (to this day, one of my best friends still gives me grief for not letting her write "Corny's Christmas"). Sometimes I wonder if I peaked then - I mean, there I was running a literary empire at age 8. Regardless, the story about my Corny franchise resurfaced a few years ago when I was looking for summer internships. Yep, I put that in my cover letter, in an attempt to display "creativity" and my early development of an "entrepreneurial spirit" (or so my dad tells me).
My dad is one of my favorite storytellers, mostly because he's got some insane tales of traveling through Europe in the 70s and buying a 1000 shirts in Morocco or something. My mom was also a great storytelller - when my brother and I were little we heard endless stories about a character known as Kitty Bow Wow. She flooded our imaginations with fun stories.
When I was little, I never thought I'd end up working in Hollywood - in TV no less. That was just such a far off concept to me. I don't think I was really even aware of the industry beyond acting (and trust me, I was quite the performer when I was little so that was something I was into) but I never really thought I would want to be a writer, in any capacity. When I was little I wanted to be an artist, then an astronomer or a marine biologist. I was never that great at science... I don't necessarily think I am great at storytelling, but it's amazing that the more stories we tell, the better we get at the telling.
I was mentioning to a friend last week that I don't feel comfortable calling myself a writer. I don't think being a blogger qualifies me for that title - not even if I get paid to do it, not for this blog or at the Huffington Post, not even with my bi-weekly column over at Digiday. I think I will call myself a writer the day I publish something I can hold in my hands, or the day I sell a screenplay. Until then, I prefer to think of myself as a storyteller - not necessarily a particularly good one, but maybe a work in progess.
The best thing is that my day job is also about storytelling - because that's what TV is. I'm fortunate enough to be in a place where my job and my hobby are two different sides of the same coin.
Sometimes I think maybe I'll return to the Corny stories... or I suppose I could always write about a pickle named Bob...
That's how I like to start stories. Well, not really, but have you ever played that game where you make up a story and everyone contributes a line? I used to crack myself up everytime I got the chance to anthropomorphize an inanimate object, especially a vegetable.
Speaking of stories, I'm reminded of the second grade, when I wrote a story about a squirrel named Corny. Apparently it was a hit because in no time I was sitting at the top of the Corny Empire, delegating out various books to classmates to write (to this day, one of my best friends still gives me grief for not letting her write "Corny's Christmas"). Sometimes I wonder if I peaked then - I mean, there I was running a literary empire at age 8. Regardless, the story about my Corny franchise resurfaced a few years ago when I was looking for summer internships. Yep, I put that in my cover letter, in an attempt to display "creativity" and my early development of an "entrepreneurial spirit" (or so my dad tells me).
My dad is one of my favorite storytellers, mostly because he's got some insane tales of traveling through Europe in the 70s and buying a 1000 shirts in Morocco or something. My mom was also a great storytelller - when my brother and I were little we heard endless stories about a character known as Kitty Bow Wow. She flooded our imaginations with fun stories.
When I was little, I never thought I'd end up working in Hollywood - in TV no less. That was just such a far off concept to me. I don't think I was really even aware of the industry beyond acting (and trust me, I was quite the performer when I was little so that was something I was into) but I never really thought I would want to be a writer, in any capacity. When I was little I wanted to be an artist, then an astronomer or a marine biologist. I was never that great at science... I don't necessarily think I am great at storytelling, but it's amazing that the more stories we tell, the better we get at the telling.
I was mentioning to a friend last week that I don't feel comfortable calling myself a writer. I don't think being a blogger qualifies me for that title - not even if I get paid to do it, not for this blog or at the Huffington Post, not even with my bi-weekly column over at Digiday. I think I will call myself a writer the day I publish something I can hold in my hands, or the day I sell a screenplay. Until then, I prefer to think of myself as a storyteller - not necessarily a particularly good one, but maybe a work in progess.
The best thing is that my day job is also about storytelling - because that's what TV is. I'm fortunate enough to be in a place where my job and my hobby are two different sides of the same coin.
Sometimes I think maybe I'll return to the Corny stories... or I suppose I could always write about a pickle named Bob...
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Trying to make my "interests" interesting... (or that time I wrote a lot about myself)
I was just looking at my Facebook profile, and realized I updated my "interests" somewhat recently. Some of them are a little odd. Some are heavily connected to the TV pilot I'm working on, actually a surprising amount (and the last batch of interests also had a large influence on the script, now that I think of it). Some are really obvious and require no further explanation, but I figure why not share a little bit more about these interests... not that you care, because you probably don't, but I'm indulging my narcissistic side a little more than usual today. Pretend you find it endearing or something. Now, in no particular order...
sweet'n'sour sauce
The greatest thing McDonald's ever created. Especially good with Chicken McNuggets or French Fries. These are the only things I will ever order at McDonald's. And I always ask for extra sweet'n'sour sauce because you never know when you might be craving it, and surprisingly, it also tastes good with Morningstar Farms fake chicken nuggets.
my animal spirit god
I'm convinced I have one and maybe I've even seen it before. Maybe not. They're tricky that way.
tv on dvd
This doesn't need explanation beyond my opinion that this might be the greatest thing since sliced bread. Although I am not sure sliced bread is all that great. Sure, it's convenient... but what's the origin of this saying? Anyone? But yeah, TV shows on DVD are just really fantastic.
astronaut ice cream
This shit is crazy. Crazy delicious. (Also crazy). I love it so much it's become a major plot point in the TV pilot I am writing.
the silver lining
There's one of these in everything and I like finding it. Cheesy? Probably. But I mean it. Finding the silver lining in things has been pretty helpful in getting me through the bad stuff in life.
fig newtons
I fucking love fig newtons. Always have.
gender neutral first names
My mom's name was Palmer, it's also my middle name, and I have to say that in the years after she passed away I really considered going by Palmer. But I'm much more of an Annie. Actually I am much more of a Stamos. In general, I love gender neutral first names because they are often old-fashioned and different - and I don't know... fun. Although names like Pat suck. Perhaps I should revise this to unique gender neutral first names...
aquariums
Sometimes an aquarium can make me so happy my heart hearts. Truly. The Boston Aquarium is my favorite aquarium. There's a nostalgic component here, sure, but also... I love fishies. I think that if I had either been better at science, or more willing to work harder at it, then I would have ended up a marine biologist. And yes, I love aquariums so much that they are another major plot point in my TV pilot work-in-progress.
Maine
duh.
freedom
I love freedom. Both in the ironic and non-ironic sense. If you don't understand what I mean, you clearly love freedom as well, but only in the non-ironic sense, which is unfortunate for you.
insensitivity
This is something I excel in, at least by Hollywood standards. Thus, it is of great interest to me.
theme songs
I love theme songs - from movie themes to TV themes, to personal theme songs. Everyone should have a theme song. Mine changes on the regular.
manu chao
Probably my favorite band. In the history of music. Bold claim? Yes. But I feel strongly about this.
local ads
who doesn't love a budget local ad? Oh man, there used to be some GREAT ones growing up in Maine, many with excellent jingles about local geography.
dudes
This interest is twofold: (1) I, like most heterosexual women, like guys - so that's sort of a no-brainer and (2) I love guys who are dudes in the total dudetastic sense of being a dude - and I love hanging with dudes. Dudes are awesome. Chicks who are dudelike are also awesome.
the toaster oven
A great invention. You can accomplish so much with a toaster oven. My roommate Becca is a culinary genius with ours.
good hair days
Never underestimate the value of a good hair day. My hair, in my opinion, is one of my best features, however I am so incredibly lazy when it comes to my hair that when I've got a good hair day happening it does a whole lot for my ego. Also, my hair is so terrifying when I wake up in the morning (and this has also inspired a moment in that TV pilot), that when I actually get it calmed down, it feels like a real accomplishment. It's the little things.
sweet'n'sour sauce
The greatest thing McDonald's ever created. Especially good with Chicken McNuggets or French Fries. These are the only things I will ever order at McDonald's. And I always ask for extra sweet'n'sour sauce because you never know when you might be craving it, and surprisingly, it also tastes good with Morningstar Farms fake chicken nuggets.
my animal spirit god
I'm convinced I have one and maybe I've even seen it before. Maybe not. They're tricky that way.
tv on dvd
This doesn't need explanation beyond my opinion that this might be the greatest thing since sliced bread. Although I am not sure sliced bread is all that great. Sure, it's convenient... but what's the origin of this saying? Anyone? But yeah, TV shows on DVD are just really fantastic.
astronaut ice cream
This shit is crazy. Crazy delicious. (Also crazy). I love it so much it's become a major plot point in the TV pilot I am writing.
the silver lining
There's one of these in everything and I like finding it. Cheesy? Probably. But I mean it. Finding the silver lining in things has been pretty helpful in getting me through the bad stuff in life.
fig newtons
I fucking love fig newtons. Always have.
gender neutral first names
My mom's name was Palmer, it's also my middle name, and I have to say that in the years after she passed away I really considered going by Palmer. But I'm much more of an Annie. Actually I am much more of a Stamos. In general, I love gender neutral first names because they are often old-fashioned and different - and I don't know... fun. Although names like Pat suck. Perhaps I should revise this to unique gender neutral first names...
aquariums
Sometimes an aquarium can make me so happy my heart hearts. Truly. The Boston Aquarium is my favorite aquarium. There's a nostalgic component here, sure, but also... I love fishies. I think that if I had either been better at science, or more willing to work harder at it, then I would have ended up a marine biologist. And yes, I love aquariums so much that they are another major plot point in my TV pilot work-in-progress.
Maine
duh.
freedom
I love freedom. Both in the ironic and non-ironic sense. If you don't understand what I mean, you clearly love freedom as well, but only in the non-ironic sense, which is unfortunate for you.
insensitivity
This is something I excel in, at least by Hollywood standards. Thus, it is of great interest to me.
theme songs
I love theme songs - from movie themes to TV themes, to personal theme songs. Everyone should have a theme song. Mine changes on the regular.
manu chao
Probably my favorite band. In the history of music. Bold claim? Yes. But I feel strongly about this.
local ads
who doesn't love a budget local ad? Oh man, there used to be some GREAT ones growing up in Maine, many with excellent jingles about local geography.
dudes
This interest is twofold: (1) I, like most heterosexual women, like guys - so that's sort of a no-brainer and (2) I love guys who are dudes in the total dudetastic sense of being a dude - and I love hanging with dudes. Dudes are awesome. Chicks who are dudelike are also awesome.
the toaster oven
A great invention. You can accomplish so much with a toaster oven. My roommate Becca is a culinary genius with ours.
good hair days
Never underestimate the value of a good hair day. My hair, in my opinion, is one of my best features, however I am so incredibly lazy when it comes to my hair that when I've got a good hair day happening it does a whole lot for my ego. Also, my hair is so terrifying when I wake up in the morning (and this has also inspired a moment in that TV pilot), that when I actually get it calmed down, it feels like a real accomplishment. It's the little things.
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Some Wednesday Nostalgia
Okay so we all know how I feel about American Idol (I hate it). However, I've recently fallen into the trap of amazingness that is So You Think You Can Dance, and OMG YOU GUYS IT IS SO GOOD. Like, I want to be BFF with Cat Deeley and ask Mary Murphy what kind of drugs she is on and then maybe have Mia Michaels give me the full rundown on what she REALLY thinks of my moves. This coming from the girl who HATES reality TV. Yes, it's true, I've found a reality TV show I openly enjoy and will admit to watching.
But this reminds me... way back when I was a wee little lassie I loved Star Search. Really, I thought I was destined to be ON Star Search and clean house because I was quite the little ham at a young age, but in this week's batch of nostalgia, let's take a look at the wholesome goodness it once was... oh and RIP Ed McMahon, you'll always have four stars in my book.
But this reminds me... way back when I was a wee little lassie I loved Star Search. Really, I thought I was destined to be ON Star Search and clean house because I was quite the little ham at a young age, but in this week's batch of nostalgia, let's take a look at the wholesome goodness it once was... oh and RIP Ed McMahon, you'll always have four stars in my book.
Wednesday, July 08, 2009
Some Wednesday Nostalgia
Rather than post a video for today's nostalgia piece, I'd like to take a journey back to explore some of the sickest toys that little girls comme moi loved in the 80s. For example: Lady Lovely Locks. And don't forget her pixie tails!
Now to be honest, I can't quite recall if I watched the cartoon or just had the doll or what but I have some very distinct memories of this flaxen haired maiden and those lecherous pixie things. Okay, so they weren't lecherous but in my memories they latched right into her hair there. Aren't pixies supposed to live in the forest and save trees or something? Like Fern Gully?
Now to be honest, I can't quite recall if I watched the cartoon or just had the doll or what but I have some very distinct memories of this flaxen haired maiden and those lecherous pixie things. Okay, so they weren't lecherous but in my memories they latched right into her hair there. Aren't pixies supposed to live in the forest and save trees or something? Like Fern Gully?
Friday, May 22, 2009
Tucker Blair (another reason I love Twitter)
So earlier this morning I was commenting on my Twitter feed about my outfit today, one that is essentially a variation of what I've worn for about 2o years of my life, but only appropriate at my current job on a causal day (which, being the day before a holiday weekend, today is). I guess one of the words I used in that particular "tweet" was picked up by this company Tucker Blair (I am guessing it could have been "topsiders" "Vineyard Vines" or "polo") and now the company is following me on Twitter... and so I checked out the site to discover Tucker Blair sells all those needlepoint accessories I used to LOVE. My aunt actually makes them, and they usually have family members' initials on them (I need to put in a request, now that I think of it), but what I love about Tucker Blair, besides the "key fobs" (I am going to buy one I've decided... leaning towards the sailboats, shown below) is the mission statement, which is completely un-ironic and therefore amazing:
"Have you ever sat down at your desk in some anonymous, beige office building, sifting through Excel spreadsheets and realizing that you’d give just about anything to be on the Cape with a beer and a pair of Croakies? Yeah, so have I. Not long after graduating from Colgate, corporate America got real old, real quick. So I set out in 2007 to create a line of needlepoint products that would be second to none in quality, while not breaking the bank. My friends and I always loved wearing fun whimsical needlepoint belts, but the cost was always prohibitive, and I knew that paying retail just meant we were putting more money in a store’s coffers. "
It goes on. Seriously. For several paragraphs. It's really worth the read.
(Also, I find him attractive. Yep, that preppy asshole look? Totally my type. Nantucket red pants? Sign me up.)
I am sure some of you might be asking, "is this guy for real?" To which, I respond, yes, yes he is, and I went to college with about 500 variations of Mr. Llewellyn and I LOVE HIM. And I love this company. If anything, the LA ironic hipster scene has made me more nostalgic for the completely un-ironic, sincere WASP New England look that I so miss. Now how about that key fob?
Hey, at least I can laugh at the silliness of it all, right? I'm completely self aware... I guess (no, I seriously want that). But anyway, thank you Twitter, for not only giving me the outlet to wax poetic about my androgynous clothing selections on "casual workdays" but for bringing companies like Tucker Blair into my life.
Tuesday, May 05, 2009
I'd like to marry Chris Pine, please (or, STAR TREK, the Jaw Wired Shut Review)
Thanks to a kind friend, last night I got to catch an advanced screening of Star Trek on the Paramount lot.
And the very last scene (SPOILER ALERT!) really tugged on my heart strings—watching the ship travel past the stars, hearing Leonard Nimoy utter that iconic line: “Space: the final frontier. These are the continuing voyages of the starship Enterprise. Her ongoing mission: to explore strange new worlds, to seek out new life forms and new civilizations, to boldly go where no man has gone before.” It was then I suddenly realized that I knew the exact quote, and I felt transported to a different time myself, recalling my youth, and my grandfather, and the old TV in the house I grew up in, and the blue leather sofa in our living room. And that was movie magic.
(On a side note: every time Nimoy was onscreen, or at least every time I heard him speak all I could think of was the Boston Museum of Science, because it’s his voice that does the introduction in the IMAX theater with, “Welcome to the Mugar Omni Theater, this is Leonard Nimoy.” Man I loved that museum as a kid...)
So to wrap up this shoddily organized review (I think I am still collecting my thoughts but I wanted to get this up here as soon as I could this morning), I really enjoyed the film. It was really fun, very thrilling, exciting, and even had some great comedic moments (my favorite quips came from Scotty and Bones). I need to see it again I think, so I can more fully wrap my head around it (maybe minus the margaritas this time), but it was awesome. And I cannot wait for the next one. The Star Trek series has been resurrected.
Well wait a minute. Before I launch into a review, let me provide some back story here, as I think it’s important to explain my degree of Trek fandom, especially as I imagine there are many who remain wary of seeing the film. I have never seen the original series, at least not that I can recall. My Star Trek memories are mostly of The Next Generation, and UPN and Captain Jean Luc Picard, and Data and a little bit of Deep Space Nine—but all this was mostly in the background because my older brother watched TNG, not I, or at least not intentionally. My grandfather was a big fan of the original series and some of the spinoffs, if I recall correctly, and I know when I was little he and my brother used to talk about the show, and I definitely picked up on details just being around their conversations. I certainly was never an obsessive fan, not nearly as much as I was for Star Wars or a show like The X-Files. I’ve seen the most recent two Star Trek movies before this one, but their plots don't stick out in my mind (I doubt they do for anyone). However, as a lover of the science-fiction genre and with a basic understanding and appreciation for the Star Trek universe, as well as being a longtime fan of J.J. Abrams work, I was really excited for this latest incarnation.
It doesn’t disappoint. The movie is thrilling. From the very first shot of space and that terrifyingly intricate Romulan ship, the film takes off at a high speed. When we first meet the young James T. Kirk, it doesn’t slow down—not for young Spock, and not as our two heroes first meet each other as young men—the plot moves quickly, not necessarily at a frantic pace, but one where I couldn’t turn my eyes away and even though I had to pee really badly during the entire film (thanks to two pre-screening margaritas), I didn’t get up. I just couldn’t (you probably didn’t need to know that, but I thought it might strengthen my glued-to-the-seat claims. Whatever).
There’s a moment where we see the Enterprise for the first time, in all its glory and I swear, I had goosebumps. It’s such an iconic image—as well as the Starfleet uniforms, it’s like revisiting with long lost family members, both comforting and new, like there's something still to be discovered.
The film definitely has that J.J. Abrams feel, and having watched many of his many television shows, I noticed a lot of the usual J.J. players on screen that other fans might not. It also reminded me a bit of the current season of Lost when the story delved into the future and time travel and destiny. The special effects were stunning, groundbreaking even—so much that at certain points I couldn’t imagine anything being fake or CGI or in front of a green screen, it all felt so real and yet larger than life.
The movie is well cast, no mistakes there. And it’s fun to see hot, young actors take over these roles, reintroducing familiar characters, and definitely in a way that a total Star Trek virgin could enjoy. I mean, how could you not enjoy Chris Pine. Dude is going to blow up after this film. Not only is he insanely attractive, but he’s got the charisma and the acting chops. (Okay, but yes, he is INSANELY attractive).
Now, I have no idea how critical diehard fans are going to feel about the movie, but I do know that non Trek fans will be able to enjoy the film, and I think that anyone at least familiar with the Star Trek characters and universe will truly appreciate the series’ well-executed reinvention. Sure, it has it's campy moments and I got lost in some of the "science," but I think that's a given with nearly any genre flick, especially one as iconic as this.
It doesn’t disappoint. The movie is thrilling. From the very first shot of space and that terrifyingly intricate Romulan ship, the film takes off at a high speed. When we first meet the young James T. Kirk, it doesn’t slow down—not for young Spock, and not as our two heroes first meet each other as young men—the plot moves quickly, not necessarily at a frantic pace, but one where I couldn’t turn my eyes away and even though I had to pee really badly during the entire film (thanks to two pre-screening margaritas), I didn’t get up. I just couldn’t (you probably didn’t need to know that, but I thought it might strengthen my glued-to-the-seat claims. Whatever).
There’s a moment where we see the Enterprise for the first time, in all its glory and I swear, I had goosebumps. It’s such an iconic image—as well as the Starfleet uniforms, it’s like revisiting with long lost family members, both comforting and new, like there's something still to be discovered.
The film definitely has that J.J. Abrams feel, and having watched many of his many television shows, I noticed a lot of the usual J.J. players on screen that other fans might not. It also reminded me a bit of the current season of Lost when the story delved into the future and time travel and destiny. The special effects were stunning, groundbreaking even—so much that at certain points I couldn’t imagine anything being fake or CGI or in front of a green screen, it all felt so real and yet larger than life.
The movie is well cast, no mistakes there. And it’s fun to see hot, young actors take over these roles, reintroducing familiar characters, and definitely in a way that a total Star Trek virgin could enjoy. I mean, how could you not enjoy Chris Pine. Dude is going to blow up after this film. Not only is he insanely attractive, but he’s got the charisma and the acting chops. (Okay, but yes, he is INSANELY attractive).
Now, I have no idea how critical diehard fans are going to feel about the movie, but I do know that non Trek fans will be able to enjoy the film, and I think that anyone at least familiar with the Star Trek characters and universe will truly appreciate the series’ well-executed reinvention. Sure, it has it's campy moments and I got lost in some of the "science," but I think that's a given with nearly any genre flick, especially one as iconic as this.
And the very last scene (SPOILER ALERT!) really tugged on my heart strings—watching the ship travel past the stars, hearing Leonard Nimoy utter that iconic line: “Space: the final frontier. These are the continuing voyages of the starship Enterprise. Her ongoing mission: to explore strange new worlds, to seek out new life forms and new civilizations, to boldly go where no man has gone before.” It was then I suddenly realized that I knew the exact quote, and I felt transported to a different time myself, recalling my youth, and my grandfather, and the old TV in the house I grew up in, and the blue leather sofa in our living room. And that was movie magic.
(On a side note: every time Nimoy was onscreen, or at least every time I heard him speak all I could think of was the Boston Museum of Science, because it’s his voice that does the introduction in the IMAX theater with, “Welcome to the Mugar Omni Theater, this is Leonard Nimoy.” Man I loved that museum as a kid...)
So to wrap up this shoddily organized review (I think I am still collecting my thoughts but I wanted to get this up here as soon as I could this morning), I really enjoyed the film. It was really fun, very thrilling, exciting, and even had some great comedic moments (my favorite quips came from Scotty and Bones). I need to see it again I think, so I can more fully wrap my head around it (maybe minus the margaritas this time), but it was awesome. And I cannot wait for the next one. The Star Trek series has been resurrected.
And can I just talk about Chris Pine again for a second? Yeah...
Wednesday, April 01, 2009
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Some Wednesday Nostalgia
The Jungle Book is probably my favorite Disney movie off all time (right up there with Robin Hood, Alice & Wonderland, and The Sword in the Stone) but then came the cartoon Tailspin and I was always significantly confused why the animals from that beloved film were all friends and adventurers. Didn't stop me from watching the cartoon when I could.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
School Spirit
Just four years ago I was spending an epic St. Patrick's Day in Dublin, dressed in green complete with face paint, an Irish Rugby shirt and a headband with shamrocks, watching a bizarre celebratory parade, drinking copious amounts of Guinness, getting intoxicated in public (and by 1pm in the afternoon)--all that fun stuff. And here I am, 4 years later and the closest thing to green I'm wearing today is a large turquoise necklace. And did I mention I am wearing a hot pink skirt?
Truth be told, I completely forgot it was St. Patty's today--I wouldn't say LA isn't the most "spirited" of cities, and certainly doesn't seem to have the same rambunctious Irish-American population as a city like Boston does (I imagine a few my friends there are already drunk, and rightly so). It appears to be just another day like any other in this city.
I'm a little sad I forgot to show some Irish pride today (although I am pretty sure I am all British/Scottish on one half--no Irish) especially because I pride myself in my spirit. Yes, I was deemed one half of Most School Spirit, Falmouth High School Class of '02 (my good friend Nate being the other half, the yearbook photo featuring me sitting on his shoulders with one of those giant foam thumbs on my hand--in retrospect we probably both won that accolade because we were equally obnoxious at soccer games and the like). I like to think I still bring that spirit with me still--and it applies to holidays or other occasions. But here I am today--feeling apathetic and likely to not go out tonight (what, I've got a 6:30am pilates session tomorrow?). Does this mean I am getting older? Or have I become jaded and am one of the many who now accept apathy as a necessary crutch to coping? God, that's depressing. I'm going to go with my original theory--I simply forgot.
So, Happy St. Patrick's Day--whether you're wearing green or not.
Truth be told, I completely forgot it was St. Patty's today--I wouldn't say LA isn't the most "spirited" of cities, and certainly doesn't seem to have the same rambunctious Irish-American population as a city like Boston does (I imagine a few my friends there are already drunk, and rightly so). It appears to be just another day like any other in this city.
I'm a little sad I forgot to show some Irish pride today (although I am pretty sure I am all British/Scottish on one half--no Irish) especially because I pride myself in my spirit. Yes, I was deemed one half of Most School Spirit, Falmouth High School Class of '02 (my good friend Nate being the other half, the yearbook photo featuring me sitting on his shoulders with one of those giant foam thumbs on my hand--in retrospect we probably both won that accolade because we were equally obnoxious at soccer games and the like). I like to think I still bring that spirit with me still--and it applies to holidays or other occasions. But here I am today--feeling apathetic and likely to not go out tonight (what, I've got a 6:30am pilates session tomorrow?). Does this mean I am getting older? Or have I become jaded and am one of the many who now accept apathy as a necessary crutch to coping? God, that's depressing. I'm going to go with my original theory--I simply forgot.
So, Happy St. Patrick's Day--whether you're wearing green or not.
Tuesday, March 03, 2009
Some Tuesday Nostalgia
Okay, I'm bringing back this weekly post topic with a classic:
Yes, so maybe I already posted this on Facebook but I am not friends with all blog readers on Facebook. So just revel in the glory that is Reading Rainbow as though it were the first time!
Yes, so maybe I already posted this on Facebook but I am not friends with all blog readers on Facebook. So just revel in the glory that is Reading Rainbow as though it were the first time!
Just. Stop.
OKAY. I just have to point out that I POSTED ABOUT SQUARE ONE/MATHNET LONG BEFORE ENTERTAINMENT WEEKLY DID (today) AND WHILE PERHAPS IT WAS FOR A LESS RELEVANT POST (blah blah, it's Square Root Day, and I was writing about my nostalgia for PBS) I AM TOTALLY ON THE PULSE OF THINGS.
See here for my original post. Dated March 25, 2008. THAT IS A YEAR AGO.
See here for EW's post today.
And all the posts in between where I whine about my sad dream-crushed future.
On a side note, I am thinking I need to get over my "woe is me" moment and do some more of those fun nostalgia posts. Hold please...
See here for my original post. Dated March 25, 2008. THAT IS A YEAR AGO.
See here for EW's post today.
And all the posts in between where I whine about my sad dream-crushed future.
On a side note, I am thinking I need to get over my "woe is me" moment and do some more of those fun nostalgia posts. Hold please...
Friday, February 13, 2009
I'm so excited!
It's Friday.
Work is a half day.
It's a long weekend.
Here's some hilarious footage from one of everyone's favorite 90s show to kick off the weekend.
I'm so excited!
Work is a half day.
It's a long weekend.
Here's some hilarious footage from one of everyone's favorite 90s show to kick off the weekend.
I'm so excited!
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
The Mystery of the Sleepless Nights
The past few nights I have had some serious difficulty falling asleep. That happens sometimes with me, especially when I am not exercising on a regular schedule everyday (which of late, I haven't been), but this time around it's been... different.
But then, last night, I figured out why.
Ever since I was little, in fact, I think since I was a newborn, I've slept with my stuffed polar bear Snowy and my special blanket. Yes, I realize that I am way past the age where it is appropriate to sleep with such things, but bear with me for a second. Snowy, I intend to keep until that far off day when he disintegrates. Honestly. I usually sleep with him tucked under my arm, which has resulted in his shape resembling less of a polar bear and more of a flattened seal. At somepoint in high school or college some friends started calling him Square Bear. The blanket is silk, or it once was--now it's very thin and bear, and tattered, although it still feels silky. The thing is, the blanket I wrap around my head when I sleep.
I realize this sounds ridiculous, but again bear with me.
When I was little I used to have terrible nightmares--I started wearing the special blanket around my head because I would use it to cover my ears. Overtime I became essentially addicted to this--having my ears covered while I sleep, and by a silky feeling fabric (one reason I've always loved camping and sleeping in sleeping bags, because the sensation is quite similar). Because of the whole wrapping the blanket around my head thing (some friends would call it my turban), when I actually do sleep (you know for some reason I feel like I have blogged about this before but I have terrible memory retention so who knows) I have the blanket wrapped around my head and the covers up to my chin. There's really just an opening for the lower half of my face.
When I was in New York over the holidays, just before flying back to LA, I decided that as I was turning 25 I would no longer sleep with the blanket. Snowy would never go, but it was probably time for the blanket to get tucked away somewhere. I am a big girl, after all. I debated leaving it in New York, but ultimately brought it back to LA with me--a mistake though, because I didn't let go of it right away (although I told my family I did. Oops).
Last Thursday I had sort of interesting day--I was home sick but also got a bit of good news that closed a chapter of my life (in a sense), and I decided that was IT--the day I was going to set aside my Special Blanket.
Because I was extra tired, I had no trouble sleeping that night, or the next, or the rest of the weekend. Until Sunday night--when it was nearly impossible. And then last night, after being in bed for two hours and still not succumbing to my exhaustion I realized the problem was that I couldn't fall asleep without my ears being covered. I attempted to put one of the pillows over my left ear while I slept on my right side, but this just didn't work.
Finally, I gave in and accepted my fate. I am likely to sleep with that blanket until it falls apart (or until I have boyfriend/husband who burns it or something) and a day will come when I will have to put it away. But today is not that day. At 1 am this morning, I ran into my closet, dug through my bags and found my blanket. I wrapped it around my head, and fell asleep almost instantly.
I feel much better now.
But then, last night, I figured out why.
Ever since I was little, in fact, I think since I was a newborn, I've slept with my stuffed polar bear Snowy and my special blanket. Yes, I realize that I am way past the age where it is appropriate to sleep with such things, but bear with me for a second. Snowy, I intend to keep until that far off day when he disintegrates. Honestly. I usually sleep with him tucked under my arm, which has resulted in his shape resembling less of a polar bear and more of a flattened seal. At somepoint in high school or college some friends started calling him Square Bear. The blanket is silk, or it once was--now it's very thin and bear, and tattered, although it still feels silky. The thing is, the blanket I wrap around my head when I sleep.
I realize this sounds ridiculous, but again bear with me.
When I was little I used to have terrible nightmares--I started wearing the special blanket around my head because I would use it to cover my ears. Overtime I became essentially addicted to this--having my ears covered while I sleep, and by a silky feeling fabric (one reason I've always loved camping and sleeping in sleeping bags, because the sensation is quite similar). Because of the whole wrapping the blanket around my head thing (some friends would call it my turban), when I actually do sleep (you know for some reason I feel like I have blogged about this before but I have terrible memory retention so who knows) I have the blanket wrapped around my head and the covers up to my chin. There's really just an opening for the lower half of my face.
When I was in New York over the holidays, just before flying back to LA, I decided that as I was turning 25 I would no longer sleep with the blanket. Snowy would never go, but it was probably time for the blanket to get tucked away somewhere. I am a big girl, after all. I debated leaving it in New York, but ultimately brought it back to LA with me--a mistake though, because I didn't let go of it right away (although I told my family I did. Oops).
Last Thursday I had sort of interesting day--I was home sick but also got a bit of good news that closed a chapter of my life (in a sense), and I decided that was IT--the day I was going to set aside my Special Blanket.
Because I was extra tired, I had no trouble sleeping that night, or the next, or the rest of the weekend. Until Sunday night--when it was nearly impossible. And then last night, after being in bed for two hours and still not succumbing to my exhaustion I realized the problem was that I couldn't fall asleep without my ears being covered. I attempted to put one of the pillows over my left ear while I slept on my right side, but this just didn't work.
Finally, I gave in and accepted my fate. I am likely to sleep with that blanket until it falls apart (or until I have boyfriend/husband who burns it or something) and a day will come when I will have to put it away. But today is not that day. At 1 am this morning, I ran into my closet, dug through my bags and found my blanket. I wrapped it around my head, and fell asleep almost instantly.
I feel much better now.
Monday, February 09, 2009
That Time I Was Ruined by a Sailboat
Growing up in Maine I spent a lot of time on sailboats. My family has always owned one, even now. When I was little we had an ensign, and we occasionally chartered a larger boat for family vacations. My dad is an experienced sailor, having done a transatlantic voyage, and in fact it was when he was a sailing instructor in the Bahamas where he met my mother, also of the nautically inclined.
I grew up spending a lot of time on boats and have always loved them and felt comfortable on them--yes, you could say I have my sea legs.
Or so I thought.
Sunday a bunch of us joined our other friend who lives out here on a boat. It's a beautiful 50 foot Jenneau and I've been out with him a few times before, always for a pleasant sail--really a great way to spend a leisurely afternoon.
We'd been planning on this sail for quite some time, and despite the somewhat dreary weather, we headed to the Marina on Sunday prepared for a lovely time in the sun, enjoying a nice cruise in the harbor.
What we didn't think of was that the high winds made for choppy seas (yeah, so when I said I grew up on boats I never said anything about being some sort of nautical genius) and by choppy seas I really mean HUGE swells. I love heeling (for those who aren't nautically inclined, that's essentially when the boat is tilting one way or the other due to wind pressure on the sails) and the boat was practically at a 45 degree angle which makes it really fun when you are sitting on the side that's up. Less fun for my friend who decided that sitting in the bow was a smart idea, because he ended up with a lot of water in his face. More entertaining for those of us watching, however.
So there we were, having a bit of a roller coaster ride in the uneven waves when we came about after maybe a half hour. This changed everything. All of a sudden we were traveling in a different motion with the waves and my tendency for motion sickness kicked in. Poor Annie had already been ill--she was the first one down and out--and was greener than you could imagine (or as we all noted, the palest we'd ever seen, because she's normally quite tan) and then I just knew it--I knew I was going to blow.
Did I mention we'd stopped at McDonald's before the trip? I had french fries. Huge mistake.
I am a pro at vomiting due to motion sickness. Strange, but true. I've been doing it my whole life. Once we were flying from Maine to Colorado and I threw up six times on the flight. I've thrown up on planes, trains, cars, ferries, and even once came close to getting ill on an elevator (don't ask), but I have never vomited due to sailing. I have also never missed a bag. Yep, I am so comfortable vomiting that I am not one of those people who makes a bee line for the airplane lavatory to vom--I just go straight for the motion sickness bag. No regard for my neighbors, but when you are sick you are sick--and I make the bag every time. I'm batting a thousand here, folks.
So here we are, on a boat with about 9 of us and I very calmly warned everyone my vomiting was imminent, and then I just went for it. At least Annie was nice enough to lean over the stern--I knew that wouldn't work and just vommed away into a transparent plastic bag. Disgusting. I felt great afterward--but that immediate relief was definitely temporary and I knew from experience that for however long the remainder of the sail would be, I was most likely going to get sick every half hour, regardless of the contents of my stomach (sure enough, Vom #2 followed suit). Fortunately, our generous captain took pity on us and we made way back to the marina. It wasn't until we were safely back in the slip that I was in the clear. There wouldn't be a number three. Bless our souls.
We stumbled onto the dock, our stomachs in shambles--all of us exhausted; like we'd survived a war zone or something. My body felt wrecked--we all were pretty wiped. Sure, we rallied for Chinese food later that night, but falling asleep last night was quite difficult, memories of disgusting vomiting and rocky seas preventing any rest. All in all--it was one of those "you had to be there" days, and I will say, despite (or in spite of?) the vomiting, it was sufficiently entertaining.
I have a feeling I won't be eating at McDonald's again anytime soon. Probably a good thing.
I grew up spending a lot of time on boats and have always loved them and felt comfortable on them--yes, you could say I have my sea legs.
Or so I thought.
Sunday a bunch of us joined our other friend who lives out here on a boat. It's a beautiful 50 foot Jenneau and I've been out with him a few times before, always for a pleasant sail--really a great way to spend a leisurely afternoon.
We'd been planning on this sail for quite some time, and despite the somewhat dreary weather, we headed to the Marina on Sunday prepared for a lovely time in the sun, enjoying a nice cruise in the harbor.
What we didn't think of was that the high winds made for choppy seas (yeah, so when I said I grew up on boats I never said anything about being some sort of nautical genius) and by choppy seas I really mean HUGE swells. I love heeling (for those who aren't nautically inclined, that's essentially when the boat is tilting one way or the other due to wind pressure on the sails) and the boat was practically at a 45 degree angle which makes it really fun when you are sitting on the side that's up. Less fun for my friend who decided that sitting in the bow was a smart idea, because he ended up with a lot of water in his face. More entertaining for those of us watching, however.
So there we were, having a bit of a roller coaster ride in the uneven waves when we came about after maybe a half hour. This changed everything. All of a sudden we were traveling in a different motion with the waves and my tendency for motion sickness kicked in. Poor Annie had already been ill--she was the first one down and out--and was greener than you could imagine (or as we all noted, the palest we'd ever seen, because she's normally quite tan) and then I just knew it--I knew I was going to blow.
Did I mention we'd stopped at McDonald's before the trip? I had french fries. Huge mistake.
I am a pro at vomiting due to motion sickness. Strange, but true. I've been doing it my whole life. Once we were flying from Maine to Colorado and I threw up six times on the flight. I've thrown up on planes, trains, cars, ferries, and even once came close to getting ill on an elevator (don't ask), but I have never vomited due to sailing. I have also never missed a bag. Yep, I am so comfortable vomiting that I am not one of those people who makes a bee line for the airplane lavatory to vom--I just go straight for the motion sickness bag. No regard for my neighbors, but when you are sick you are sick--and I make the bag every time. I'm batting a thousand here, folks.
So here we are, on a boat with about 9 of us and I very calmly warned everyone my vomiting was imminent, and then I just went for it. At least Annie was nice enough to lean over the stern--I knew that wouldn't work and just vommed away into a transparent plastic bag. Disgusting. I felt great afterward--but that immediate relief was definitely temporary and I knew from experience that for however long the remainder of the sail would be, I was most likely going to get sick every half hour, regardless of the contents of my stomach (sure enough, Vom #2 followed suit). Fortunately, our generous captain took pity on us and we made way back to the marina. It wasn't until we were safely back in the slip that I was in the clear. There wouldn't be a number three. Bless our souls.
We stumbled onto the dock, our stomachs in shambles--all of us exhausted; like we'd survived a war zone or something. My body felt wrecked--we all were pretty wiped. Sure, we rallied for Chinese food later that night, but falling asleep last night was quite difficult, memories of disgusting vomiting and rocky seas preventing any rest. All in all--it was one of those "you had to be there" days, and I will say, despite (or in spite of?) the vomiting, it was sufficiently entertaining.
I have a feeling I won't be eating at McDonald's again anytime soon. Probably a good thing.
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Planes, Trains and Automobiles (Well, just trains actually)
This very moment I am blogging LIVE from the Downeastern Rail. Yes folks, I am on the train to Boston. FROM PORTLAND!
Now for all you non-Mainers reading, this might not sound like anything of interest, but for those of us locals, we know that not only is the train to Boston a recent amenity, but a less frequently used one. So why my sudden change from the beloved bus to the train?
Snow.
Yes, friends, as I had hoped for, it's snowing (of course the weather gods finally listen to me the day I leave. THANKS A LOT). Snow means delays in bus times and significant increases in traffic. And I've got some SERIOUS NEW YEARS EVE PLANS to get to in the great city, resident home of my beloved Celtics, Red Sox, and just about all my closest friends from growing up in Maine. The Bean.
I wish I could take credit for this clever, weather-dodging idea, but alas, it was while I was standing in line for a bus ticket that some chill dude chatted up my brother and recommend I hop on the train--for just $3 more I could be in Boston with no weather delays--best part (for me), WIFI! Hook, line, and sinker.
I absolutely love travelling by train. It's one of the number one things I miss about Europe. When I lived in Switzerland it was how I traveled to and from school everyday, taking a 13 minute train from Nyon into Geneva and back. An entertaining moment would be regular announcements for the various stops, all of which were in three languages (because those Swiss are pretty much 900x smarter than everyone else) and every day upon approaching the city I would hear,
"Prochain arrêt, Genève
Nächster Halt, Genf.
Next stop, Geneva."
I wish I could do all the accents for each language announcement--the German one is hilarious because of how Genf was said, and the English was spoken with a flighty British accent.
When I was living in Paris, I stayed a month after I was done with school and traveled around with a Eurail pass for 5 weeks, mostly by myself, backpacking in France, Switzerland, and Italy. Man I would kill to go back to those easy days again. Traveling solo is the most liberating experience--especially when you have no rigid agenda, and only an interest to see the world. I used to spend hours on train rides writing--it's truly the most productive passive travel, I think, and a great way to see a beautiful landscape.
Speaking of seeing, it looks beautiful outside with this snow. Maybe I'll get lost in a daydream and stare at the window for a while.
Happy New Year!
Now for all you non-Mainers reading, this might not sound like anything of interest, but for those of us locals, we know that not only is the train to Boston a recent amenity, but a less frequently used one. So why my sudden change from the beloved bus to the train?
Snow.
Yes, friends, as I had hoped for, it's snowing (of course the weather gods finally listen to me the day I leave. THANKS A LOT). Snow means delays in bus times and significant increases in traffic. And I've got some SERIOUS NEW YEARS EVE PLANS to get to in the great city, resident home of my beloved Celtics, Red Sox, and just about all my closest friends from growing up in Maine. The Bean.
I wish I could take credit for this clever, weather-dodging idea, but alas, it was while I was standing in line for a bus ticket that some chill dude chatted up my brother and recommend I hop on the train--for just $3 more I could be in Boston with no weather delays--best part (for me), WIFI! Hook, line, and sinker.
I absolutely love travelling by train. It's one of the number one things I miss about Europe. When I lived in Switzerland it was how I traveled to and from school everyday, taking a 13 minute train from Nyon into Geneva and back. An entertaining moment would be regular announcements for the various stops, all of which were in three languages (because those Swiss are pretty much 900x smarter than everyone else) and every day upon approaching the city I would hear,
"Prochain arrêt, Genève
Nächster Halt, Genf.
Next stop, Geneva."
I wish I could do all the accents for each language announcement--the German one is hilarious because of how Genf was said, and the English was spoken with a flighty British accent.
When I was living in Paris, I stayed a month after I was done with school and traveled around with a Eurail pass for 5 weeks, mostly by myself, backpacking in France, Switzerland, and Italy. Man I would kill to go back to those easy days again. Traveling solo is the most liberating experience--especially when you have no rigid agenda, and only an interest to see the world. I used to spend hours on train rides writing--it's truly the most productive passive travel, I think, and a great way to see a beautiful landscape.
Speaking of seeing, it looks beautiful outside with this snow. Maybe I'll get lost in a daydream and stare at the window for a while.
Happy New Year!
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