Saturday, March 17, 2007

dispatches from abroad vol. 1

what fun we've been having! the boys and my sister were privy to witnessing a nail-biter of an NCAA game, where the winningest team got usurped by the underdogs, in a neck-in-neck game with the clock down to the last waning seconds of play. (the winningest team was duke, btw, for those of you not intimately involved in the ins and outs of u.s. college basketball.)

yesterday we got to go to red lobster. for lunch. now, red lobster is really one of those desires that's really best left unsatisifed. the yearning for red lobster is incredibly tantalizing, akin to the romantic sublime...a fantastic notion that exists just ever out of reach, stretching and testing the limits of consciousness, and providing an inspirational reaffirmation of one's humanity -doused in exuberant sprays of lemon juice and unnaturally succulent bouncing avalanches of breaded shrimp. red lobster in its execution is something entirely different. it's a paean to butter (or some kind of hydrolyzed vegetable fat that's better left to the darker recesses of the imagination), and indifferently cooked, uniformly tasteless seafood and seafood byproducts. strangely, there seemed to be a high number of geratrics, although it's been so long that i've stepped foot inside a red lobster, that the sample is too small for any conclusive extrapolations based on that particular observation.

we then went to see 300. in imax. the movie is aight. horrible dialogue, depiction of women, and plot holes aside, it is certainly entertaining. the greatest gift CGI has given the world is in the progression of the cloak-billowing and horse-thundering aesthetic. nothing sends goosebumps racing down my arms like an artfully rendered cloak, billowing ominiously in the wind (this effect is compounded when the cloak billowing directly precedes an oncoming battle, in which our protagonists are woefully outnumbered in body, if not in spirit). lemme tell you though, i've never seen an army with more well-definied abdominal muscles than the spartans. the shadows and valleys of their rippling torsos almost made up for the insidiously racist, orientalist depiction of the effeminate persian god-king, xerxes (edward said would be rolling in his grave). so of course, now my siblings and i have decided that when we descend en masse to disneyworld this coming winter, our attire of choice will be spartan-influenced diapers and flowing red robes. and we've taken to expressing our agreement and solidarity with each other using the spartan war cry of: "AOUUUU! AOUUUUU!"

last night for dinner we had my beloved dinosaur AND wegman's whipped cream-frosted crap cake. it was a double header! we also capped off the evening with a documentary called "bastards of the party" about the birth of the crips and the bloods and the gang life in south central l.a. guess who was really to blame? if you guessed WHITE PEOPLE, you'd be right!!! as usual, white people and their white people infrastructre and their white people institutionalized racism are to blame again. it was a bit of a predictable plot development, but the documentary was somewhat interesting from a historical perspective...i just thought the execution was a little dry and plodding.

tonight i'm watching the kids again, with my mum, which is kinda like watching an extra big and more vocally petulant kid (but just as loveable). we had a lovely brunch of scrambled eggs, jimmy dean sausage (dear canada, why won't you stock bob evans or jimmy dean bulk sausage?! why????), bacon, and monkey bread (cinnamon sugar pull-apart bread with a caramel glaze). delicious. after that, i doubt i'm going to eat dinner...if anything, i'll probably scarf some leftover crap-cake and black bottom icebox pie from dinosaur bbq. there's something about america that really destroys your will to eat healthfully and exercise nutritional discipline or good sense. god bless her.

fin.

No comments: