Sunday movie: Closer

I saw Closer a few years ago, when it was a relatively new movie, and I remember being pretty blown away. But second time around, i think it got even better. If I could summarize this movie with one word, it would be "mindfuck".

Basically, Jude Law's character meets Anna (Julia Roberts), falls in love with her despite having wicked-hot Natalie Portman waiting at home, and proceeds to nail her. Then he sets her up with Clive Owen, in a super-creepy online sex-chat way. But that backfires majorly--let's face it, Clive Owen is a major man-babe.

In some twist of self-hate, Julia Roberts ends up falling for Jude Law (hey, it's happened to the best of us) while maintaining her Clive Owen relationship. But Clive finds out and takes serious revenge on Jude by keeping Julia and later nailing Natalie.

Poor Jude.

The Goodies:
1. Everyone is hot and doing everyone else, and they smoke non-stop. Great for a single lady who appreciates both types of activity.
2. The CAST... could it be more stacked?
3. Oh yeah, it's also set in London so you get a bit of scenery.
4. I would be only half a person if I didn't mention that Natalie Portman plays a stripper and she has a CRAZY LONG bare-ass scene with Clive Owen. He's yelling, she's smiling coyly... it's danger.

The Bummers:
1. Clive Owen is not naked, ever, at all. Even partially.
2. Considering how often they alluded to doing it, as a viewed I would have appreciated a few (very brief) sex scenes. Come on Julia, I don't think you'd even had a baby then! Show off your bod.
3. The Damien Rice music at intro AND outro? I don't think so. I understand it at the end, because Jude Law is literally one Deep 'n' Delicious away from cutting himself; but in the beginning, he's cocky and confident, and in love. Come on Patrick Marber (writer, care of imdb.com), let us think that love is a good thing.

I went to bed feeling like I wasn't missing out on the crazy of a relationship... and as an added bonus, Clive and Jude right before bed was not a bad call. Highly recommended for boys and girls.

Celeb-u-smoke: Sarah Marshall Edition

What I love more than seeing a well-dressed Olsen twin hitting the town is seeing other perpetually single celebrities (ok, reading about seeing them) engaging in things that I do on a regular basis.

Case: (from People.com)

How I Met Your Mother’s Jason Segel was waiting for a buddy outside the Library Ale House in Santa Monica – but the funnyman didn’t ignore the ladies by any means. Segel smiled at female passersby as he smoked a cigarette. When his pal arrived, the actor gave him a hug before walking inside to sit down.

Yeah, it's a male version of my day-to-day:

1. He's out smoking alone (despite being outside of a bar)

2. He's waiting for a friend, suggesting that he might be one of those crazy people who are always 10 minutes early (woo!)

3. He hit on the ladies by "smil[ing] at passersby". Come now, why so shy? This one actually has the goods to work a pickup line or two.

Now, it's no lie that Jason Segel is high on my list of crushes. He's large but not really in charge... and is not shy about being the only dude in his crew who hasn't hooked a lady.

So for all the single ladies who need a Sunday morning pick-me-up, I give you a recent photo, care of Alyson Hannigan's twitter.



Enjoy!

Three's Company

Normally I would try to incorporate this into a story, but a funny thing happened last night...

I went out to the bar with some friends, in usual form. But this night was different, because instead of getting belligerently drunk and going home with a stranger, I was approached late in the evening by an old friend from high school.

I'm not in touch with too many people from high school--I moved away for college and have never really gone back. James is not an exception--before this night I don't think we've seen each other since maybe 2001. James is now living in the same city as me working for some investment firm. He's been dating the same girl for a few years and they live together. She seems nice enough.

In the heat of catching up, my friends left the bar without me and I was alone with James and his girlfriend.

And pretty much out of the blue, they asked me to do a 3-way.

Now, as interested as I am in this particular activity, I'm pretty sure that the only way to go about this type of thing is with someone who you've already slept with at least once (familiarity makes everything a bit more... fluid), and to be the guest star.

Thoughts or feelings?

Sunday movie: Funny People

I have a pretty big bias in favor of Judd Apatow and Adam Sandler.

Seriously. If I ever met Judd Apatow, I wouldn't even hit on him because I love that he writes roles for his family in his movies... and that's just so sweet. He actually makes me feel like I might WANT to get married.

Plus he has this soft spot for Jason Segel that I share too.

And Sandler is pretty rad too, in an older-Jewish-man way. Lest I say he does the faith proud.

So let's get to the movie:
Despite being called "Funny People", and having funny parts, it wasn't a funny movie. But I'm pretty sure it wasn't supposed to be--and I liked it that way. Sandler plays a great sad clown, Seth Rogen does stand up and it's actually funny, and the cameos are AHHHmazing. There's also a bunch of clips from Sandler's early years, which actually made me believe his role even more. I went in thinking that he would get the girl, and I enjoyed the twist ending.

Did I mention the JAMES TAYLOR set in the movie? Holy. He's the bomb and he doesn't know it, making his bomb-status even more potent.

The Goodies:
1. Seth Rogen might actually be a good actor in future non-stoner roles (although, Judd--because you clearly read my blog--keep 'em coming)
2. Comedians are funny on stage but they are just as sad and fucked up as everyone else
3. The status of my girl-crush on Leslie Mann is peaking and she's not on the market (and... I'm not into chicks)
4. RZA!

The Bummers:
1. Boo, being a wealthy celebrity is hard. Wah wah.
2. Jonah Hill might be edging in on "too fat"
3. I wasn't feeling the girl who played Daisy... but being a single lady, I have a natural aversion to other females, so my Daisy-hate might not have anything to do with her acting, and might have everything to do with her proximity to the Jewish males that make up this cast.

Jusy sayin'.

To sum up, I totally recommend this movie... Sandler's bachelorhood originally made me feel like a loser for being one too, but in the end he won me over. Good for singles everywhere. Might also be good for the couples too.

The Garage Story

Or, the reason I decided to start a blog.

Once upon a time, I had a close friend, Samantha. Sam was the kind of friend who rallied with you three nights in a row over Christmas break when no one else was free. She was the friend who showed up after every break-up with tequila, not ice cream. She even actively encouraged extra-relational activity at one point. She was also my roommate for a very long summer... but that's another story. If you had asked me 18 months ago, I would probably have equated her with a female version of NPH in Harold and Kumar.

And then she met Jeff at a Starbucks I think (seriously, who gets picked up buying overpriced coffee?) The short story of Jeff is that he can't wait to procreate and marry. Needless to say, after only 6 short months of dating, Sam and Jeff were cohabitating.

And the best part of moving in is... the housewarming party you get to have.

In previous instances, housewarmings among my circle of friends had an unofficial checklist:

1. Several rounds of King's cup

2. Partial nudity (often related to the previous item)

3. At least one couple would do it in the new house

and my favorite:

4. Excessive pot smoking

This time, however, was different. I showed up at 11 or so, after getting lost in what can only be described as the Labyrinth of Suburbia, to find Sam, Jeff, and perhaps 10 more couples casually drinking glasses of red wine, listening to Barry White in their newly-furnished living room.

It was like a scene from a movie. I heard a woman comment on "the lovely cornices". Several men laughed at a golf joke. There was no sign of a bong or another single person. (Ok there clearly were others... but they seemed not to notice that talking about drapes is a serious party foul). Perhaps these individuals had also gotten lost and were not in full party mode? The only solution that came to mind was to grab a drink... a stiff one.

The kitchen, however, was not well-stocked. Sam apparently had spent her gin/vodka/olive budget on marble countertops; even her staple tequila hadn't survived the shift to suburbia. Sherri, the new neighbor, offered me a glass of her homemade merlot: there's a chance that she was hoping to get me drunk before introducing me to her "very funny" coworker Dave, perhaps to rope me into joining Couple-palooza.

Sadly, in this case, funny = ugly.

And yeah, Dave was very funny under this excessively broad definition.

Dave had me cornered in minutes, as I suppose 30-ish unattractive males are accustomed to doing at these types of events. Now, I like to think of myself as a superhero sometimes--except that instead of having a Batmobile or boomerang tiara, my arsenal includes a martini and a Marlboro. Normally, I would have thrown back my drink and excused myself to refresh it... but whatever Sherri was brewing in her basement was NOT to be chugged. So instead I played the Marlboro card and went in search of Sam.

Now, a bit of background information is key right now: when Sam and I roomed together, that long summer, she was still a smoker too. We had a rule: any room with a fan could be smoked in: kitchens, bathrooms, even bedrooms if you were lucky. This rule stuck, and had been enforced in all apartments since then, even after she quit smoking entirely.

Back to the party--
I searched out Sam, hoping to drag her into the kitchen and comiserate over Dave Funny-Ugly. But then, the shock of my life: as I pulled out a lighter and cigarette, she stopped me.

"El, you can't smoke in here". Long pause.

"No really. Jeff and I want this to be our home, not some new frat house. But come with me, I'll show you where you can smoke."

The way she said "home" made me feel like she had aged 20 years over the course of finishing the sentence. I was pretty sure that neither of us had ever lived in a frat house. I'm still not even sure that frat guys are big smokers. Aren't they big on funnelling beer?

Sam took me through a side door and into the garage. "Look, there's even an ashtray! Just turn off the light when you're done and come back in!"

I could barely get out a "Thanks" and she was out the door, back to Jeff's lap. All alone in the cool garage, I knew a few things for sure:

1. That I was all alone, being singled out for being both single and smoker

2. That Sam was never going to want to do shots again, and

3. That Jeff must have been making way more than Sam led on, because I was looking at a brand new Mercedes.

In an act of defiance, I put out my cigarette on said vehicle... but not in a very visible place, because it's a sweet ride and I can't hate on that.

When I came back inside, it looked like someone had passed a new law that prevented the croch area of men's pants from being exposed. All the happy-ish couples were sitting in a circle, talking again about carpet samples and antique lamps (although, to give them credit, they were a bit more boisterous care of Sherri's home blend). I excused myself ("long drive home, have to work tomorrow morning") and set out to the car.

"Someone HAS to think this was wierd!" I exclaimed to myself. I reached for my phone, and started scrolling for a friend to share this bizarre encounter with. And that's when I realized I had no single friends any more.

So, dear reader(s?), hear my tales of woe.

Welcome to the blog

I've always been a bit apprehensive about blogging--who gives a shit what's on my mind?

But lately my married, engaged, live-in boyfriend/girlfriend, coupled friends have been especially bizarre. I think I'm starting to freak them out with my singleness. Anyway, I thought someone else might find some of their behavior to be just as bizarre, so when weird shit happens I'm going to write about it. Hope you enjoy!

Oh, and a side note. I'm not an asshole so some of the details I write are clearly not true (like names). My friends aren't actually the cast of Sex and the City...