Wednesday, November 29, 2006

This Modern Love

Best. Wedding Present. Ever.

When two hardcore gamers (Dave and Elly) were getting married, their many programmer friends decided to put their skills to excellent use and create--you guessed it--a videogame for and of the couple, unveiled at their wedding reception. I present to you, the Tokyopia Wedding Game.

The storyline is incredibly cute: Donkey Kong stumbles across a newspaper with the couple's wedding announcment, mistaking Elly for Princess Peach and Dave for Mario. Determined to foil the wedding, Donkey Kong breaks into the couple's house, steals their wedding ring, and takes off for Tokyo.

And that's when the game begins with a display of a classic start screen. The couple's realization that this video presentation was an actual playable videogame is my favorite moment. Wireless controls were passed out and the fun began!

The game is Wario Ware-esque with mini games that both Dave and Elly needed to complete, stage-by-stage, in order to defeat Donkey Kong and finally get married. This is going down in the books as, by far, the best wedding present I've ever seen. I could only dream of being able to add this to my wedding registry!

[via Kotaku & via Hugguh Bear]

Thursday, November 23, 2006

Happy Birthday

Happy Thanksgiving, to whoever is reading this. Today is also my grandmother's birthday and this is the first year I didn't mail her a birthday card. I paused at CVS when buying a card for my mother, who celebrated her birthday yesterday, because this is one of those "first" moments that I store and remember when I'm wallowing in a pit of depression.

I love how kids send letters to Santa and the post office knows how to handle them. I just wish the post office knew how to deliver cards to people who have passed away. I still want to shop for the birthday cards, Mother's Day cards, Christmas, and Easter cards. I want to stand in the aisles reading dozen of cards and look for the schmaltziest one that comes remotely close to how much I love her. I'm not ready to stop sending cards, but where do I send them?

Lacking an answer to that question, I am sending out a beloved birthday wish to my Lola. Out here in the ether, it's possible that my message will be delivered.

Wednesday, November 22, 2006

"Wound-Up Penguin" dailies

Dear Wonderfalls fans:

I'm sorry that I'm an editorial assistant and don't make very much money, because if I had a better job, I would have been able to buy this and share it with you all.

When I first saw this on eBay, it had two days left in the auction and the price was at $51.00. In a dizzy moment of J.Crew-like frenzy, money didn't matter and I was convinced that I would win this piece of merch. 128 minutes of raw, unaired Wonderfalls dailies footage from "Wound-Up Penguin." Who knows what's in here! Caroline Dhavernas and Tyron Leitso stumbling over their lines and laughing uncontrollably? Tracie Thoms pulling pranks on the poor lowly grip? Katie Finneran kissing random female extras in an attempt to authenticize her screen lesbian persona? Yes, I did imagine a Wonderfalls viewing party to unveil this prize. Wax lion giveaways and barrel bear beers for everyone!

Unfortunately, $202.50 is way out of my budget for needful things, and I had to let this item go. If spiralout9 has a Wonderfalls soul, he/she will rip this DVD and post it on YouTube for us poor folk to watch.

In the meantime, we can enjoy this little goody goody that I found on the Tube. It's the unaired pilot with the original Mahandra and Aaron. Enjoy!!

Wonderfalls music video

To the tune of Rilo Kiley's "The Frug." Can this get any better? Wonderfalls and Jenny Lewis rolled into one. It's an early Christmas for me here in the Forest. Wiiiiiiii!

Monday, November 20, 2006

Week of Wii

Holy Mother of God! This boy is living the great American (more likely Japanese) dream and I may stay up for too many hours tonight voyeuristically living my life through him. (Aforementioned TV-watching problem.) Someone is playing the Wii everyday straight for a week, taking breaks only to sleep for 4 hours (2am-6am), and run to the potty. Oh, and did I mention...he's filming the whole thing live via webcam!!

Seriously, this is like geek porn and it's so getting bumped up to #1 in defense of unemployment. Lucky bastard!

Please excuse me while I go throw a hissy fit.

Sunday, November 19, 2006

Alarm Clock Catastrophe (Dunkin' Donuts commercial)

From round 2 of the 2006 Dunkin' Donuts ad campaign, "American Runs On Dunkin'". Music by They Might Be Giants.

Triforce

In a beautiful gesture by the MIT Hackers, here's this:

Seriously, moisture built up around the corners of my eyes when I saw this. Just gorgeous!

(via)

The wait is over

I have successfully procured my very own Nintendo Wii and I am ecstatic. Well, technically the wait isn't over because I have sworn my better half that I will not dive into The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess until we are together. So, I'm actually less ecstatic because of that. Plus, I've been on the most frustrating wild goose chase today looking for a component video cable (only composite cables are included with the Wii) and it turns out that brick and mortar stores didn't even have the fuckers in stock. I've been to Best Buy, Circuit City, Toys R Us, several GameStops and EB Games, and I even went to a CompUSA. (Who knew they carried games?) Ugh, what a lovely waste of my time today. Clearly, I would've rather been at my computer sooner so I could bitch about the whole experience to you all.

Plus, there was a huge line at Toys R Us to get in the R-Zone and buy a Wii. Mind you, I was one of the proud few who waited 18 hours outside of my local Toys R Us three weeks ago, in damn cold windy weather, and pre-ordered the Wii. You'd think that I'd be treated like friggin' Nintendo Royalty when I walked into Toys R Us with my very rare presale ticket. But no, they told me to get in the back of the line and wait with everyone else.

God bless my mom for complaining to the employees running the shots in the line and asked why I should wait since I preordered my Wii. An hour and a half into my wait, it turns out that I was "misinformed" by an employee and that I could bypass the line. It saved me an extra hour of waiting, but I was already planning to swiftly dispatch that damn Toys R Us Red Shirt for tossing me to the back of the line with the rabble.

Let me tell you, much like when you've got an oil and water solution, after a while the liquids settle into their proper place. My proper place was in the front of line with the hard cores, not in the back of the line with the painfully sweet Jewish mothers who said things like "PSP3" and "Super Nintendo." I couldn't have a conversation without looking desperately ahead to the front of the line, at the loners in Kevin Smith sweatshirts and wool coats and Shiggy t-shirts. The people who were buying the Wii selfishly for themselves and not for their 13-year olds who had to wait for Hanumas or Chrismakah. I wanted to talk to them and be able to connect with someone who would giggle and cry with me when I said words like "triforce" and "master sword."

Really though, I was just bitter that I was doing yet another console release without my better half. It's like going to a New Year's party and not having someone to kiss at midnight. It's like winning without the celebration. I'm sick of being apart and days like this serve as a painful reminder that 200 miles and change is enough to make you lonely. Very lonely.

18 hours feels like cake in hindsight. I could've steeled myself to wait in the cold for days because it wasn't just a selfish endeavor: it was for "us." I like being an "us" and I don't really care about delayed releases of component cables, as long as wii [sic] can be an "us" over the holidays. That's what counts.

Saturday, November 18, 2006

I hate MySpace

...and Friendster and all those shitty "social networking" sites. I imagine a prerequisite for starting an account is a desire to connect with your fellow man and wanting to "network socially," whatever the hell that means. In my book, social networking is pretending you're a horny underage schoolgirl who's just looking for a little fun. At any rate, I'm the biggest hypocrite I know because I have an account at both sites. Friendster was my cousin's fault and MySpace is his fault. Let's just call him MySpace boy.

What's disturbing is that I went to MySpace and started creating an account today, but when I tried to sign up, there was a message stating that the email address I entered was already being used. Now, I would definitely remember if I created a MySpace account, and I know I didn't. Out of curiosity, logged in with the email address and used the password that I use for virtually everything else, and voila, I am logged into MySpace. Wtf?

I look at my profile and my full name is listed (not an avatar or screenname or anything else) and I realize that my name has been searchable in MySpace for who knows how long. Considering that I go by "Bluenana" here in the Forest, I think it' s a little obvious that I cherish and am careful to protect my privacy and anonymity.

Anyway, so MySpace boy's been blogging at this social networking site for some time now. I imagine the only reason he's insisting I get an account is so I can read his blog and be impressed by his obviously witty commentary. Don't get me wrong: he's one of the funniest people I know and one day he'll be making tons of money with that humor of his, but seriously? Get a blogger account!

"I Met Him on a Sunday"


Nikki, Lexi, and Moonrat: This one's for you.

"Oh, I met him on a Sunday
And, I missed him on Monday
Well, I found him on Tuesday
And, I dated him Wednesday
And, I kissed him on Thursday
And, he didn't show Friday, no
Well, he showed up on Saturday
I said, "Bye bye, Baby"
I said, "Bye bye, Baby"
I said, "Bye bye, Baby""

"You Are What You Love"


Ok, I'm fessing up! I have a girl crush on Jenny Lewis, which is why there are back-to-back posts about her here at the Forest. She really is cute as a button! Her solo album, Rabbit Fur Coat, (no, not the "ostensacious" [sic] kind) is one of those rare gems of a CD that's filled with equally lovely songs and no filler.

"Jack Killed Mom"


Jenny Lewis is one of my favorite people these days. Although this video doesn't appropriately display that she's simply cute as a bug, it will highlight her musical sensibilities, vocal styling, and the fact that this song kicks ass! The finale is truly my favorite part. I saw Jenny Lewis and the Watson Twins perform for the second time last month and it was among my top favorite concerts I've ever seen. Such a treat!

The breakup letter

Dear Banana Republic Black Pocketed Full Flannel Skirt,

How could you bail on me? I know it wasn't completely a done deal (since you technically haven't shipped from the warehouse yet), but I've been planning outfits around you! Do you know how much of a hole you've created in my wardrobe? It was supposed to be you, me, tights, knee-high boots, and my navy toggle sweater. Or, you, me, tights, my herringbone flats, a button-down, and my grey wool blazer. I could go on, but you know there's plenty I'm not mentioning here.

You could've at least called. I had to hear the news that you were "unavailable" by email? Well, forget it, Blane. I'm sure Duckie'll take me to the prom instead!

With sincere bitterness,
Heartbroken and Naked in the Forest

Alarm Clock Catastrophe!!

I believe his words were, "Die Asian man caught in bus!! [Dunkin Donuts is] on every corner of New England and your coffee tastes like bitter monkey urine. Do you really need to advertise this shit around here? Even Cumberland Farms makes better coffee."

(For you non-Massachussuans, Cumberland Farms is basically 7-Eleven with a gas station, so thems are powerful hatin' words against some ghastly coffee. Moonrat, feel free to correct me if they have Cumbies outside of MA and in your ol' stomping grounds.)

For some reason, these new Dunkin' Donuts commercials get farther under his skin than anything else I can think of. First it was karate mom, and now it's cinnamon penises (his words, not mine) with an incessant song. Take it away They Might Be Giants! This one's for you, Hugguh Bear!

*******************

From round 2 of the 2006 Dunkin' Donuts ad campaign, "American Runs On Dunkin'". Music by They Might Be Giants.

Friday, November 17, 2006

It's about damn time!

For months, Nikki's been gushing with rave reviews about the new season of The Wire while Matt Yglesias has been parsing each episode with the same gravity as blogging on the crisis of our foreign policy agenda. With all that buzz, catching up on the last few seasons of The Wire is a no-brainer, but my momentum has long been stalled because Season 1, Disc 1 has been sitting in my Netflix queue with a "Very Long Wait" for around two months now!

The funny thing is, only Season 1, Disc 1 has a wait, but not any other disc on any other season. (Yeah, and by funny, I mean fucking annoying.) I could just imagine all those Disc 1s out there going to waste as drink coasters and frisbees--being used as anything other than a DVD because no one is watching and/or returning them!

Please understand, I have an undiagnosed TV-watching condition. I am a Galactus who devours whole seasons of shows at an alarming rate. I am Locutus of Borg. I must assimilate The Wire and resistance is futile. I leach off of the fake lives on my TV screen. It's not a normal symbiotic relationship that TV and I have. No, it's completey parasitic. Instead of living my life, I'm watching someone else's, and man is it entertaining and better than mine!

After a ripe ol' shitty day at the office, lo and behold what I find in my mailbox. Yes'm. The Netflix gods have smiled upon me--and despite the "Short Wait"-- I now have Disc 1 in my greasy palms. And I thought I didn't have any plans this weekend? Phshaw!!

Side note: In my defense, I didn't have HBO in college, so this show slipped my radar when it first aired. Plus, after graduation my attention was fully consumed by the illustrious Carnivale. May it rest in peace! Or better yet, may it rise up from the ashes and be reborn like the Phoenix that it is. (wild cackling laughter)

Side note to the side note: Every poorly used comic book reference here deserves a proper shout out to my better half.

Hello, Kitty!!!

UPDATE

Popeye is back and all is well in my microcosm! We've been trying to figure out how to make sure this never happens again. We're still working on it, but for now this'll do.


Wednesday, November 15, 2006

Retail therapy


In moments of crisis, the only coping method I know is shopping. My eyes have stumbled across this Ice Fishing Sweater Coat.

It would be so much prettier if I wasn't so effing sad.

Goodbye Kitty?


My cat is missing and I don't know what to do.

Popeye was rescued from my backyard, a tiny, less-than-a-week-old kitten hiding among tomato plants and soaking wet from the rain. One of his eyes had a terrible wound that was infected and bulging out of its socket. In survival of the fittest fashion, he was probably abandoned by his mother and left to fend for himself. After a long treatment of antibiotics and milk through an eye dropper, Popeye not only recovered, but he grew up to be a feisty kitty who lovingly tormented my dog and other two cats.

When I'm walking in the house, Popeye loves to run ahead of me and lay his body down in my path, forcing me to stop and shower him with affection. I could never walk more than five feet without a purring Popeye demanding more. When I walked inside the house tonight, there was no one to stop me in my tracks.

It's a big and scary world out there and I'm terrified for him. No one stops to love you when you lay down in front of oncoming traffic. I have no idea where he is, but I'll be leaving a box and blanket outside of the front door, with his favorite dog treats inside.

Tuesday, November 14, 2006

In defense of unemployment

Why is it that unemployment gets such a bad rap? In essence, it's basically a life without responsibilities to an employer who doesn't give a rats ass about you. There are other ways to make money in this world. Plus, if you've got a mountain of unused crap in your house, your trash could be someone else's treasure. Not only is this a money making venture, it's a liberating experience to rid oneself of all the peripheral stuff we accumulate.

I've put a lot of thought into this and I seriously think I'd fare better in life if I were unemployed. Here's my list of goals and accomplishments:

  1. Get through my Netflixes faster. I just started to get into Point Pleasant, which is heating up to be interesting, but it's slow going only because I have a job.
  2. Finish The Others, Lost puzzle #2 out of 4. I finished The Numbers in about a week, after which I thought I could complete a puzzle a week and finally be able to flip 'em over, connect them, and read the special message on the back. But, every effing piece in The Others is some shade of jungle green and they all look alike! I've clearly put this on the back burner, since I don't have time to complete it...because I have a job.
  3. Go to the gym...regularly. Now there's $49 a month that I'm totally wasting. (Yeah, I'd like to say it's because I have a job, but I don't think that'll fly in this category.) I totally could've bought this beauty by now.
  4. Read books again! Isn't it completely ironic that I work with books and have no bleeping time to read them? Between manuscripts, proposals, newspapers, magazines, and 3 dozen blogs, who has time? I'd read bound books again, except I have a freakin' job.
  5. Clean up my iTunes library. There are about 3,000 exclamation marks scattered throughout my library, and I simply haven't had the patience or time to fix this. I know I'd get around to this if my job would stop getting in the way.
  6. Stop deleting my Google news alerts. Yes, I know I have the option of receiving these less frequently, or not at all, but they're important and I just don't have time to read them. This is my way of finding out if Portishead is ever going to get off their asses and record a new album. Of course it sucks that there's an actual town named Portishead and that I end up reading about every cricket game and car accident from that neck of the woods. I'd totally read my news alerts regularly if I were unemployed.
  7. Scrapbooks! I'm that person who saves brochures from last summer's MoMA exhibit and every movie ticket with my better half because I swear that one day I will construct the ultimate scrapbook to record and commemorate every little thing we've done together. Yeah, I'm still working on the one from my Paris trip of '99, but I know I have the creative power to do this if I only had more time. Damn job.
  8. V-I-D-E-O-G-A-M-E-S. Wtf? I've been waiting years for Kingdom Hearts 2 to come out and I haven't even finished the game? This is soo my job's fault.
  9. Make new friends. (Yeah, just kidding.)
  10. And finally, FINALLY I'd tell certain people to go fuck themselves! Ok, so technically this one is really an effect and not a cause, because I clearly wouldn't have a job if I pulled a #10. But man, this effect would feel so good.

Well, one could argue that this post was more in defense of retirement than unemployment, but hey, it's a lifestyle choice. It's either that or a pretty shitty day that makes you feel like you'd rather be picking lice out of a baboon's ass than getting out of bed only to get shafted day in and day out. Yeah, one or the other.

Saturday, November 11, 2006

Wonderfalls


For me, the beauty of Netflix is being able to watch whole seasons of television at one time. This, above all else, is why it's the best $19.50 I spend in a month. No commercials, no waiting for the next episode, no interruptions, and yes, no life.

I recently devoured Wonderfalls: The Complete Series and man was it good. Jaye Tyler is a sharp, witty, and sarcastic 23-year old Brown University graduate who is putting her philosophy degree to good use as a store clerk at a souvenir shop in Niagara Falls. Jaye's incredibly smart and has the potential to do very cool things with her life, but she's a Gen Y slacker who doesn't feel compelled to move beyond her trailer park and souvenir store lifestyle. I like to flatter myself and think Jaye is a version of me, but hell, she's prettier, thinner, smarter, graduated from an Ivy League school, and has glossier hair than me. A girl can dream, right?

Of course, as is the case with many well-written, smart, and ahead-of-its-time shows that found a home at Fox, it was cancelled after four episodes. And another of course, I discovered this show two years after it's been cancelled.

Before I made my recent, mindblowing discovery that I've been using television as a substitute for meeting new people and having friends, I was devastated with the end of Wonderfalls. In my mind, Jaye was a dear friend of mine and it was killing me to see her in so much pain in the last three episodes of the series. I just wanted her to be with her soulmate, Eric Gotts, and live happily ever after.

Yes, I have reminded myself time and again that Jaye and Eric are not real people, they aren't going to live happily ever after, and even if I make a trip to Niagara Falls with my better half, we're not going to find the Wonderfalls souvenir shop. They're not going to invite me to their wedding, and I'm not going to have meet them after work at The Barrel for drinks. They're not real people and they're not my friends.

I imagine this is how all sorts of fan fiction starts: with a person who loves something so much and refuses to accept it when it's over. Well, I'm probably not going to go writing Wonderfalls: The Story Ain't Over fiction, but I probably will buy myself a muse.

Pretty, pretty, pretty

Now that I'm feeling an overwhelming sense of accomplishment from publishing my first (albeit introductory and short) post, I think it's time to celebrate with a new bag. What more fitting selection for The Forest from the Trees than this little pretty, pretty:
With one fleeting glance, I've already imagined a life for us together. It's a brisk, early-winter day and I'm in my grass green J.Crew coat with matching snow colored earflap hat and mittens. I've got this Orla Kiely Alpine Forest Sling Bag (in emerald) in tow as I'm quickly winding my way out of the PATH train station and down the streets of Hoboken to work (at a company that shall remain nameless, lest I be fired, in which case I will never be able to buy this bag, nor any other bag for a very long time). I can see my hands rifling around inside, looking for my ID, as my steadfast purse gently carries my iPod, cellphone, wallet, Palm LifeDrive, asthma meds, cough drops, tissues, chapstick, water bottle, 250-page manuscript, the three latest issues of New York, printouts of Wired articles because I'm too cheap to pay for a subscription, and house keys...when suddenly my bubblegum colored dream bursts.

My dear Orla Kiely Alpine Forest Sling Bag: the life we could have lived together was all too fleeting. Your three beautiful shades of green would have matched so many of my outfits and you would have garnered me so many compliments. But, I'm afraid that you and I are not meant for each other because you could never carry the 50-pounds of shit I haul around all day, every day.

Maybe in another life...

So, I'm finally starting this narcissistic endeavor, mostly because I'm too broke to do anything else right now.

This will be home to many a useless rambling, including, but not limited to: television, videogames, books, shopping, politics, movies, spoons with thermometers, and news about people who I think are cooler than me.

Antisocial wallflowers are welcome!