I'm Marissa, and I like to do a lot of things. I want to tell you about the things I'm doing, and maybe help you do things, or even do them for you. Enjoy my site, Popular Sentiment, as well as Cineplexus and the wonderful Sweet Valley Diaries.
I do not know much about James Cappleman, and I don't have the option of voting for him in Chicago's upcoming elections, as I don't live in Chicago's 46th ward. He's on twitter, which is cool. He has a pretty logo. But when I saw his sign for the first time yesterday (when I happened to be in the 46th ward) all I could think was "Is he going to change our money, and make it super-fly?"
Sorry about all that, Mr. Cappleman. Leave it to a Sifl & Olly fan to draw connections to obscure 3rd-season, DVD-only nonsense skits.
I'm a big fan of Roman numerals. Maybe it's because I'm a closet elitist and I know that my understanding of Roman numerals makes me better than you. Or, if not you, someone who knows less than you, or does fewer crossword puzzles.
Vanity aside, the fun thing about Roman numerals is how they manage to simplify some numbers and complicate others. Take dates, a commonly Roman-ed numeral form. This year, MMXI, that doesn't save us any button pressing when we type it. But back in 2000, we were at a nice-and-easy MM. What fun! Equally fun was the 1980s, but for opposite reasons. At the close of an episode of Taxi, got example, we might see the letters "MCMLXXXIII" which is a pretty hilarious way of saying "1983." Am I right?
The Super Bowl is one common way a lot of people come across Roman numerals. This year is Super Bowl XLV, which looks a million time cooler on advertisements than "45." And guess what, number (or football) fans? In just five years, it's gonna be Super Bowl L. Wow. That'll be easy to type.
Today I went to the grocery store with my father. We had to visit the local Jewel, which is an always crowded dump, and Trader Joe's, which is always full of wonderful stuff but doesn't carry staples like dishwasher fluid or Diet Dr. Pepper.
Since we live in busy River North, our course from store to store takes us past things that are destinations for some citygoers, like the Weber Grill restaurant (one of several reasons why Chicago's Near North Side smells always smells like meat) or the giant Medinah Temple that's now a Bloomingdale's home store, a switch in occupancy that has always strike me as a pointed commentary on religion and commerce.
Because it's January, and it's Chicago, being outside is something of an x-treme sport. So, to break up the trek from Jewel to TJ's, we wordlessly decided to cut through the aforementioned Temple Bloomingdale's and safe ourselves a city block of outdoor walking. I heard a saleswoman mention that all "gadgets" were on sale, which struck me as a pretty vague sale classification. Right as we were leaving the store to head back to the frigid streets, my dad spotted some women leaving with huge, clear plastic bags full of pillows. Dad wondered aloud if pillows were on sale. And that's when I saw it: next to me stood a huge sign that read "One Day Sale."
This is how a short trip out for groceries turned into an hourlong pillow shopping spree. My father isn't much of a bargain hunter, but when you're already in the same building as a One Day Sale, and, wonder or wonders, you actually NEED something, there's no turning back.
We came home with a small fortune of pillows and pillow covers...and no groceries. Dropping our own huge, clear plastic bags on the floor, we trekked back out for somethings edible.
I really admire my dad's willingness to spend money on nice things, and I look forward to one day having enough money to follow in his footsteps. For now, though, I'll have to be content with enjoying being a participant in his success story, and hope that someday I'll be able to furnish my own kids with surprise pillows and pillow covers without a second thought.
If you want to experience the fun and metrics of being a drug dealer, but don't want to sell, handle, or see any illicit drugs, boy have I got a tip for you tonight! Instead of using an fancy store-bought pill splitter to split your prescription medications, break out a sharp paring knife and start sawing away in the kitchen. With any luck, your pills will break unevenly, leaving you with a powdery mess to sweep into your hand or lick off the counter.
What's worse than ignoring the lessons of the past? Ignoring the lessons of Saturday morning television. Especially when the lesson was taught by the less-than-deep students of Bayside High. Among those lessons: Drugs are bad, lying is bad, cheating is bad...and drilling for crude oil is dangerous. I've been at a loss as to what I could possible do to help out in the wake of the current Gulf disaster. As always in times of crisis, I turned to my encyclopedic knowledge of ridiculous sitcoms. This is what I came up with. Enjoy, and please share.
Anybody with enough smarts to follow Saved by the Bell should understand why drilling is not an undertaking to enter into lightly, why strict regulations are necessary (no filibusters, jerkwads!) and why oil dependency is for tools. It was true in 1991, and for God's sake, it's true now.
ook! A new Daily Drop Cap! I couldn't resist using this one since it has my blog colors in it. Of course, having a drop cap doesn't make much sense unless I extend this paragraph so that the letters and words pile up to the left of the letter. What would be really great would be if the paragraph got so long that the words started to wrap to the underside of the pretty letter. But that might depend on the size at which you're viewing this text. Let's move on then, shall we?
In this post, I'd like to add to the above pretty thing by showing pictures of a few other pretty things that sum up my past few weeks:
Thanks to Mary, I am now officially obsessed with The Mighty Boosh. I'm not super proud of this fact, but Mary is. Today, I posted a review of Get Him to the Greek on Cineplexus. In honor of these two facts, let's enjoy a picture of Russell Brand and Noel Fielding in a tender embrace.
If that's not pretty, I don't know what is.
Pretty boy! Maybe that's what Slater's calling Zack in this still from Saved by the Bell, which I used in my Sweet Valley Diaries post about how often the guys on Sweet Valley covers look like Tom Cruise. Sounds interesting, right? You'll have to read it to figure out how this image fits in.
OMG guess what this is???? It's a still from my showchoir documentary, which, yes, still exists, and is in fact closer than ever to being finished. Aiming for the fall. Isn't it lovely?
Let's close up with some more traditionally pretty things...
Finally, here are some pictures from my trip to New Mexico. I was actually born there, and my parents are both from there, so it's not an unusual place for me to visit. That said, this was kind of an unusual trip, as it was in the Spring, just for fun, and involved a trip to my cousin's boyfriend's goat ranch in the high desert. It was truly lovely.