A few days ago I finished watching the last episode of Party Down, a show that was on Starz in 2009 and 2010. It's about a bunch of caterers in L.A., most of them wannabe actors or writers. It is HILARIOUS.
It stars Adam Scott, who's currently on Parks and Recreation playing Ben, Leslie's love interest. Henry Pollard, Adam Scott's Party Down character, is a failed actor whose one big moment was on a beer commercial yelling "Are we having fun yet?" He's deliberately given up his attempt at an acting career, and so has taken a job working for Ron Donald, an old friend.
Ron, played by Ken Marino (who I know from The State and Wet Hot American Summer, both hilarious), has a dream of managing a Soup R Crackers, a fictional soup and salad restaurant. He's intense and strange and he tries way too hard. It's great.
Henry's on-and-off love interest is Casey, an aspiring comedian played by Lizzy Caplan. She's funny and sarcastic, and sometimes hurts Henry so thoughtlessly it's hard to watch.
The other members of the catering team include, in the first season, Jane Lynch, who left the show when Glee got big. Megan Mullally joined cast in Season 2. Both women are so funny. There's also Martin Starr as sci-fi nerd writer Roman, who is really a pretty awful person. In my opinion that's so much funnier than if the weird nerdy guy turned out to be sweet. Roman's nemesis is Kyle, played by Ryan Hansen, an aspiring actor/model/musician.
Each episode takes place at a single event that the Party Down team is catering. This includes a funeral, a sixteen-year-old rich girl's empty birthday party, an orgy, and Steve Guttenberg's 50th birthday (he plays himself).
It is really, really funny. And the final episode was just perfect. You should watch it (if you aren't offended by bad language). It's currently on Netflix Instant Watch, although I guess their contract with Starz is ending so I don't know for how long that will be true.
Also, in news of today, Ozzie Guillen has left the White Sox. I'm very, very sad.
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Thursday, September 22, 2011
Google Search Terms
It's time again to share my recent Google search terms. You'll see a theme or two develop:
- dogtoberfest
- puppy video
- origins of universe
- how many galaxies are there?
- when will new parks and rec be on hulu?
- how many hairs are on a greyhound?
Saturday, September 17, 2011
South of the Border, West of the Sun
I finished another Haruki Murakami book today. South of the Border, West of the Sun. This one was certainly smaller in scale than Kafka on the Shore or The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle. It's simple, actually: Hajime had a friend in his youth named Shimamoto. They bonded because she was an only child, like him, which was rare in the early sixties in rural Japan. He loved her, although nothing romantic ever happened between them. When he was twelve, Hajime moved away, and the two friends did not keep in touch.
Now Hajime is nearly forty, with a wife and two kids. He owns a pair of successful jazz clubs. He loves his wife and thinks of himself as happy. Then Shimamoto reappears. Hajime's intense friendship with her resumes, kept quiet from his wife. But Shimamoto is mysterious, and does not let him in on many things going on in her life. She disappears for months at a time, and will not tell him why. He wants to know, but really just wants her in his life, and so does not push the issue.
I should stop my summary there, before I just type out the ending. But, in what is apparently typical Murakami fashion, not all the answers are given. In fact, I found that frustratingly few of them were. In the two other books of his that I read, I didn't see this as a weakness, necessarily, as the material was so dense that leaving some threads still tangled seemed okay. But here, I wanted more.
I have another book of his out of the library that I'm going to start next. We'll see what I think.
Now Hajime is nearly forty, with a wife and two kids. He owns a pair of successful jazz clubs. He loves his wife and thinks of himself as happy. Then Shimamoto reappears. Hajime's intense friendship with her resumes, kept quiet from his wife. But Shimamoto is mysterious, and does not let him in on many things going on in her life. She disappears for months at a time, and will not tell him why. He wants to know, but really just wants her in his life, and so does not push the issue.
I should stop my summary there, before I just type out the ending. But, in what is apparently typical Murakami fashion, not all the answers are given. In fact, I found that frustratingly few of them were. In the two other books of his that I read, I didn't see this as a weakness, necessarily, as the material was so dense that leaving some threads still tangled seemed okay. But here, I wanted more.
I have another book of his out of the library that I'm going to start next. We'll see what I think.
Friday, September 16, 2011
Twin Peaks
My boyfriend and I watched all of Twin Peaks this summer. It was great. A lot of people say it declines in the second season, but we still loved it. Even the ridiculous plotlines like Noreen's super strength or Ben Horne thinking he was in the Civil War were entertaining. Any given episode could make me laugh and yet leave me afraid to go to sleep when it was over. Really, I enjoyed just about everything except James's little film noir subplot. And Bob is about the scariest villain I've ever seen.
If you don't know about Twin Peaks, here's a quick summary: Laura Palmer, a seemingly-sunny teenage girl, was murdered. Agent Dale Cooper, played (fantastically) by Kyle McLachlan, comes to the small Northwest town of Twin Peaks to investigate. Twin Peaks is full of weirdos, some neutral or good, like the log lady (a woman who carries a log with her everywhere, and tells people the messages it gives her), and some a whole lot more sinister.
So I loved the series. Then we watched the movie, Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me. It was a prequel, made after the series ended but taking place in the days before Laura's murder. I was not so impressed. I thought it would wrap up loose threads. It did no such thing. AND a different actress played Donna, one of the main characters. I wanted to say "Laura, what are you doing, that isn't Donna!" as if a malevolent trick was being played on her. I'm glad I watched it, because I wanted to be completist about this, but I don't want to re-watch it.
If you don't know about Twin Peaks, here's a quick summary: Laura Palmer, a seemingly-sunny teenage girl, was murdered. Agent Dale Cooper, played (fantastically) by Kyle McLachlan, comes to the small Northwest town of Twin Peaks to investigate. Twin Peaks is full of weirdos, some neutral or good, like the log lady (a woman who carries a log with her everywhere, and tells people the messages it gives her), and some a whole lot more sinister.
So I loved the series. Then we watched the movie, Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me. It was a prequel, made after the series ended but taking place in the days before Laura's murder. I was not so impressed. I thought it would wrap up loose threads. It did no such thing. AND a different actress played Donna, one of the main characters. I wanted to say "Laura, what are you doing, that isn't Donna!" as if a malevolent trick was being played on her. I'm glad I watched it, because I wanted to be completist about this, but I don't want to re-watch it.
Monday, September 5, 2011
Case Histories
I just finished Case Histories by Kate Atkinson. It's the first in a series of mystery novels about Jackson Brodie, a British private investigator. It was great, absolutely engaging. Besides an unsolved murder in Jackson's family past, there were three separate mysteries woven into the novel. I don't read tons of mysteries, so I don't know if this is common, but it seemed unique to me.
Jackson is a divorced forty-something with a young daughter, still bitter over some events in his past. He used to be on the police force, but now he has a small private investigating business, just him and a cranky secretary. The cases he takes are small, usually involving cheating spouses, but suddenly he has more work than he knows what to do with: a child gone missing thirty years earlier, a young woman stabbed by an unknown assailant, and the daughter of a murderer being sought by her long-lost aunt.
What I liked was that the book was not totally plot driven. I really felt like all the characters were real, separate people.
What I really kept thinking is that Jackson ought to hang out with Frank Mackey, the Irish detective from Faithful Place by Tana French. He also is divorced, has a young daughter, is bitter, etc. Really the only difference is that Jackson is from northern England and Frank is from Ireland. Was Tana French inspired by Jackson Brodie? They certainly aren't so similar that it feels like she was ripping Kate Atkinson off - more that Jackson and Frank are from a certain, common mold.
Anyway, it was a good book, I recommend it, and can't wait to get the next one.
Jackson is a divorced forty-something with a young daughter, still bitter over some events in his past. He used to be on the police force, but now he has a small private investigating business, just him and a cranky secretary. The cases he takes are small, usually involving cheating spouses, but suddenly he has more work than he knows what to do with: a child gone missing thirty years earlier, a young woman stabbed by an unknown assailant, and the daughter of a murderer being sought by her long-lost aunt.
What I liked was that the book was not totally plot driven. I really felt like all the characters were real, separate people.
What I really kept thinking is that Jackson ought to hang out with Frank Mackey, the Irish detective from Faithful Place by Tana French. He also is divorced, has a young daughter, is bitter, etc. Really the only difference is that Jackson is from northern England and Frank is from Ireland. Was Tana French inspired by Jackson Brodie? They certainly aren't so similar that it feels like she was ripping Kate Atkinson off - more that Jackson and Frank are from a certain, common mold.
Anyway, it was a good book, I recommend it, and can't wait to get the next one.
Saturday, September 3, 2011
Diary of an Emotional Idiot
I just finished re-reading Diary of an Emotional Idiot by Maggie Estep. I read it for the first time when I was in high school, and loved it, but haven't re-read it in a long time. It's still great.
Zoe has snuck into her ex-boyfriend Satan's condo, and is hiding in his closet. While she waits for him to get home, she takes us back and forth through time, describing how she got to this point. The details of her life as a junkie, of her various friends and boyfriends and neighbors, of her jobs ranging from cleaning the bathroom of her drug dealer to working in a cardboard box factory to being the receptionist at a dungeon, spill out achronologically and addictively. I couldn't put the book down.
What struck me this time is how 1990s some of the details are, which I loved. It was published in 1997, so this makes sense, after all, but it's interesting, since when I first read it I certainly didn't notice this. She talks about girls wearing itty-bitty backpacks, and alternative rockers, and tongue-piercings, and Nine Inch Nails.
It's so odd how in the present everything feels normal, and the music you listen to and the clothes you wear aren't cultural signifiers of a particular time, illustrating things about that era. They're just the stuff you like. It's normal. But then fifteen years pass and things stick out as symbolic, or funny, or nostalgic, or whatever.
Anyway, Maggie Estep is awesome, and I can't wait to get my hands on some of her other books.
Zoe has snuck into her ex-boyfriend Satan's condo, and is hiding in his closet. While she waits for him to get home, she takes us back and forth through time, describing how she got to this point. The details of her life as a junkie, of her various friends and boyfriends and neighbors, of her jobs ranging from cleaning the bathroom of her drug dealer to working in a cardboard box factory to being the receptionist at a dungeon, spill out achronologically and addictively. I couldn't put the book down.
What struck me this time is how 1990s some of the details are, which I loved. It was published in 1997, so this makes sense, after all, but it's interesting, since when I first read it I certainly didn't notice this. She talks about girls wearing itty-bitty backpacks, and alternative rockers, and tongue-piercings, and Nine Inch Nails.
It's so odd how in the present everything feels normal, and the music you listen to and the clothes you wear aren't cultural signifiers of a particular time, illustrating things about that era. They're just the stuff you like. It's normal. But then fifteen years pass and things stick out as symbolic, or funny, or nostalgic, or whatever.
Anyway, Maggie Estep is awesome, and I can't wait to get my hands on some of her other books.
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