H-U-G-E with a silent H
After a long, dirty hiatus producing Little Beauties: Ultimate Kiddie Queen Showdown, I have returned to jotting down keen drivel about my life. I wish I could say my absence was due to siphoning floodwater out of the Lower Ninth or adopting kids from Ethiopia, becoming a UN Ambassador and taking up with someone else's husband. But alas, I am no "Brangelina," a fact made even more painfully obvious during my doctor's visit today when I had to board the scale. Discovering I had gained nearly 10 pounds in a few months, my doctor used an adjective to describe me that all crazy, educated, middle class, white women like me shudder to hear: "healthy." Oh yes, the dreaded "H" word. The greatest euphemism for "you're a blimp" ever invented. But in the interest of not pandering to good anorexics everywhere, including those I'm related to, I will get off this subject, finish up the chocolate bar on my desk and move on.
And speaking of anorexics, my tour on Little Beauties is not quite up. I'm in a holding pattern right now, brought on, at least in part, by the departure of Time Bomb (my editor) to go and get married. Many of you are aware of Time Bomb's eccentric and, let's face it, pathological antics: the refusal to eat, the stress-related nosebleeds, the blood pressure machine in the edit (because he refused to believe I actually had a normal blood pressure versus his stroke-out numbers. I never believed you could be ambushed with a blood pressure cuff, but I've lived to tell about it. I'm still surprised my pressure was normal after his repeated warnings to not panic because the cuff, though tight, was not going to "cut off" my arm. Time Bomb's swan song was last Friday when he threw up IN the edit. I had left to go to a meeting, he downed a pot of coffee on an empty stomach and VOILA! After saying "this is bad news" no less than 500 times, he hightailed it out of the edit bay and into the history books as the craziest editor alive.
So here I sit for two more weeks until my new editor starts. I have high hopes for this guy to bring this puppy home. High hopes. Because if this show goes on for any longer, I believe I have every right in the world to stab myself in the eye.
Now that I've got lots of time on my hands, I've re-discovered the joys of pure procrastination: the emailing, the IM'ing, the net surfing, the eating (see "Healthy" above). My marathon training continues and hit it's peak last week when I accidentally ran about 22 miles. I was supposed to run 20 and let me tell you, those extra two made all the difference between feeling tired and feeling like ass. I set out to run two loops in Prospect Park and then from our apartment in Brooklyn to my parent's place on the Upper West Side. It was all good, even when I had to jog through a couple of street fairs on Flatbush and dodge the tourists on bikes on the Bklyn Bridge. And then I hit Midtown and thought how romantic it might be to die by the Intrepid. But I persevered, made it to my parent's place and by that evening was eating anything and everything I could get my hands on (see "Healthy" above). Half marathon this Sunday. Piece of cake (right).
Last night Joey, Zach and I continued our tradition of seeing the worst films in the history of cinema and saw "Grizzly Man." We had high expectations for this one: the new Werner Herzog documentary about Tim Treadwell, a guy from California who lived for five full seasons amongst the grizzly bears of the Kodiak until he and his girlfriend were eaten alive. From everything I had heard and read about this film, it was to be a disturbing portrait of a man obsessed with wildlife and his desire to protect it. Treadwell videotaped his "expeditions" at length and ultimately compiled 100 hours of footage that Herzog obtained and assembled into this documentary along with some new interviews with Treadwell's family, friends and acquaintances, the coroner in charge of recovering his effects, biologists and ecologists who are familiar with bear behavior, etc.
What this film turned out to be was nothing short of hilarious. I don't know if it was Treadwell's Prince Valiant-style haircut, the Spinal Tap style interviews, the fact that Herzog and his German accent narrate portions of the film (the best line being Herzog's description of "Villie (Willie) the Squirrel" or the "frabulous" splendor of the Kodiak). Maybe it was the fact that Treadwell gives 600 pound wild grizzly bears names like Mr. Chocolate and Wendy. Though we never see Wendy, Treadwell films a pile of her "poop" and even exclaims: "Look! This is Wendy's poop! I love Wendy and I love her poop." Treadwell also names the foxes that live in the area. At one point, a fox he's named Ghost, runs off with his baseball cap. Treadwell, whose voice is high-pitched and soft in the style of Truman Capote, carries his camera as he runs after Ghost shouting/whining: "Ghost! Come back here with my hat Ghost! Oh no, you're going in the den. I need my cap! That's a very important cap, Ghost!" And I'm not even going to get into the assortment of do-rags Treadwell changes in and out of like costumes to play up his "kindly warrior" persona.
There are so many gems in this film, that it kept the three of us sitting in the theater. No small feat considering the heat was cranked to it's outer limits and at least Joey and Zach claim to have sweat off at least 5 pounds. Not me (see "Healthy" above). If I can be even more nerdy than someone who has a blog already is, I'm going to give this one an enthusiastic Warner thumbs up. Now, Warner is rarely enthusiastic and essentially genetically programmed for negativity, so this is high praise.
Toodles for now...
And speaking of anorexics, my tour on Little Beauties is not quite up. I'm in a holding pattern right now, brought on, at least in part, by the departure of Time Bomb (my editor) to go and get married. Many of you are aware of Time Bomb's eccentric and, let's face it, pathological antics: the refusal to eat, the stress-related nosebleeds, the blood pressure machine in the edit (because he refused to believe I actually had a normal blood pressure versus his stroke-out numbers. I never believed you could be ambushed with a blood pressure cuff, but I've lived to tell about it. I'm still surprised my pressure was normal after his repeated warnings to not panic because the cuff, though tight, was not going to "cut off" my arm. Time Bomb's swan song was last Friday when he threw up IN the edit. I had left to go to a meeting, he downed a pot of coffee on an empty stomach and VOILA! After saying "this is bad news" no less than 500 times, he hightailed it out of the edit bay and into the history books as the craziest editor alive.
So here I sit for two more weeks until my new editor starts. I have high hopes for this guy to bring this puppy home. High hopes. Because if this show goes on for any longer, I believe I have every right in the world to stab myself in the eye.
Now that I've got lots of time on my hands, I've re-discovered the joys of pure procrastination: the emailing, the IM'ing, the net surfing, the eating (see "Healthy" above). My marathon training continues and hit it's peak last week when I accidentally ran about 22 miles. I was supposed to run 20 and let me tell you, those extra two made all the difference between feeling tired and feeling like ass. I set out to run two loops in Prospect Park and then from our apartment in Brooklyn to my parent's place on the Upper West Side. It was all good, even when I had to jog through a couple of street fairs on Flatbush and dodge the tourists on bikes on the Bklyn Bridge. And then I hit Midtown and thought how romantic it might be to die by the Intrepid. But I persevered, made it to my parent's place and by that evening was eating anything and everything I could get my hands on (see "Healthy" above). Half marathon this Sunday. Piece of cake (right).
Last night Joey, Zach and I continued our tradition of seeing the worst films in the history of cinema and saw "Grizzly Man." We had high expectations for this one: the new Werner Herzog documentary about Tim Treadwell, a guy from California who lived for five full seasons amongst the grizzly bears of the Kodiak until he and his girlfriend were eaten alive. From everything I had heard and read about this film, it was to be a disturbing portrait of a man obsessed with wildlife and his desire to protect it. Treadwell videotaped his "expeditions" at length and ultimately compiled 100 hours of footage that Herzog obtained and assembled into this documentary along with some new interviews with Treadwell's family, friends and acquaintances, the coroner in charge of recovering his effects, biologists and ecologists who are familiar with bear behavior, etc.
What this film turned out to be was nothing short of hilarious. I don't know if it was Treadwell's Prince Valiant-style haircut, the Spinal Tap style interviews, the fact that Herzog and his German accent narrate portions of the film (the best line being Herzog's description of "Villie (Willie) the Squirrel" or the "frabulous" splendor of the Kodiak). Maybe it was the fact that Treadwell gives 600 pound wild grizzly bears names like Mr. Chocolate and Wendy. Though we never see Wendy, Treadwell films a pile of her "poop" and even exclaims: "Look! This is Wendy's poop! I love Wendy and I love her poop." Treadwell also names the foxes that live in the area. At one point, a fox he's named Ghost, runs off with his baseball cap. Treadwell, whose voice is high-pitched and soft in the style of Truman Capote, carries his camera as he runs after Ghost shouting/whining: "Ghost! Come back here with my hat Ghost! Oh no, you're going in the den. I need my cap! That's a very important cap, Ghost!" And I'm not even going to get into the assortment of do-rags Treadwell changes in and out of like costumes to play up his "kindly warrior" persona.
There are so many gems in this film, that it kept the three of us sitting in the theater. No small feat considering the heat was cranked to it's outer limits and at least Joey and Zach claim to have sweat off at least 5 pounds. Not me (see "Healthy" above). If I can be even more nerdy than someone who has a blog already is, I'm going to give this one an enthusiastic Warner thumbs up. Now, Warner is rarely enthusiastic and essentially genetically programmed for negativity, so this is high praise.
Toodles for now...
posted by Jen Warner at 11:18 AM
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