Peace out.

I am taking a much anticipated hiatus from cubes, winter, and Philly. Tomorrow morning I am setting out for a week of sun, sand, waves, family, and one very large Mastiff in Costa Rica. There will be no hairdryers, makeup or email. There will be lots of reading, beaching, and cervesas.

My daily commute down filthy streets will be replaced with a bumping 4-wheeler ride to the beach. Days filled with powerpoint, desk chairs, and inane internet searches will be forgone in favor of leisurely breakfasts, surfing, and mucho time laying horizontal on a beach doing nothing much at all.

Pura Vida kids!!!!

Que Guapo!

Look how handsome he is in sleeves!! Stupid Australia and their stupid time zone are making it difficult for me to watch my Rafa, luckily there are pictures aplenty on the internets!

That is all.

At Last

I have really tried to stay away from political discussions here. It's not that I don't like engaging in them (I do) it's just that they can tend to be kind of a downer and they are rarely funny (especially since Sarah Palin has been evicted from the limelight). But I can't resist. I have a gigantic crush on the First Family. The political policies of the Obama administration tend to align pretty solidly with my own beliefs, but that is really secondary here.

I am IN LOVE with a woman who dresses her two girls in CrewCuts for the inauguration. Sealing J.Crew's place in American history (I'd like to think I've played a not insignificant role in that as well). The first lady herself even sported some leather gloves made by J.Crew to cradle Lincoln's bible beneath her husband's hand.



Just when I thought my admiration for this couple and their family had reached it's zenith... I come to learn that they had my idol and role model Beyonce (makes me wonder if that little Sasha Obama's middle name might be Fierce) sing At Last for their first dance. Although I enjoyed Obama's inaugural address, the site of those two dancing together to my girl B brought me to tears. Yes We Can.
When this family finally gets that puppy, I may just need to move in.

The Wrestler

I know a lot of people turn to this site for insightful film reviews and reliable recommendations. Knowing the tremendous responsibility I bear, I want to talk to you about "The Wrestler". Despite Marissa Tomei's appearance as a stripper with a heart of gold, this movie isn't the heart-warming picture I was hoping for. (I have had to make compromises in my film selections lately...what with the Oscars coming up it is very difficult for the good movies to get screen time. I look forward to this drought ending 2/6/09 ).

Last week, by chance, I was awake to catch the Late Show with Jay Leno. Jay's guest that night was a dried-up, hopeless, and frankly a little bit creepy Mickey Rourke. Ostensibly, Mr. Rourke was there to plug his film but his years in therapy would not allow the conversation to proceed so smoothly. I mean this guy has had it ROUGH. He has been out of work as an actor and unable to find work in any field including construction (see, the recession really is affecting everyone). He tells Jay that a good therapist and a priest have helped him through these times. Given this lead in it really is no one's fault but my own that I sat through 2 hours of depression, heartbreak, and hopelessness.

Now this review is not a critique on Rourke's performance, because I don't think there is anyone who knows down and out better than that guy. But it was too sad and there was too much wrestling.


2 stars out of 5.
This film contains nudity, language, gratuitous gore involving a staple gun, and nothing even resembling a happy ending.