Last night, 60 Minutes did a story about the drug propranolol. I missed the episode, but as my husband was flicking through the channels I heard the word "propranolol" and wondered if I should watch considering I was once prescribed propranolol (otherwise known as Inderol) to treat my migraines.
Propranolol is a beta-blocker, and I got off of it after a couple of years because I hated the way it made me feel -- sluggish, fatigued, disconnected. I'm pretty sure it's responsible for slowing down my thyroid.
I need to start ordering my gifts online because the only way I'm hitting shopping malls this time of year -- is with a gun to my head. Seriously, I get stressed in the parking lots. There are TRAFFIC JAMS in parking lots! That is so fricking wrong.
This is not my favorite time of year. It's getting colder. I tend to pack on the pounds with all the holiday celebrating. Work is slow (my writing gets offtrack because of all the holiday distractions). And of course, I hate the shopping.
Was it just me or is Madonna lame? That concert reminded me of the time I watched CATS on PBS. I suddenly felt lucky and happy that I never caught this pretentious, over-praised crap live, and could turn the channel at will.
I literally turned the concert off after TEN MINUTES. I luckily found something a lot less boring -- repeats of Growing Pains where ironically, Dana Plato played a trampy teenager dressed like a 1980's "Like a Virgin" Madonna.
Geez, watch out, Kelly. You weigh like four pounds. Rosie could crush you with her giant elbow.
Anyway for those who haven't heard, Clay Aiken was an ass to Kelly on her show. Kelly complained about him putting his hand over her mouth, saying he was disrespectful as her co-host.
Rosie interpreted Kelly's disdain as "homophobic" - meaning Kelly was only upset because a GayClay touched her. Rosie said that Kelly wouldn't be upset if Mario Lopez did the same thing (which I find odd, because from what I hear Mario's hands really have been everywhere).
Many Sorkin-lovers will defend Studio 60 as brilliant (as if people walking in circles spouting lame dialogue about product placement is interesting) and tell me to shut-up and stop watching if I hate it so.
But I can't. And I finally figured out why. The show is DELICIOUSLY BAD AND OVER-HYPED -- in a Showgirls sort of way. What I mean is -- everyone involved actually performs this super-serious, hyper-earnest, pseudo-intellectual, pretentious crapfest as if they are reciting Shakespeare -- without pausing to recognize its crappiness.
And honestly -- I can't wait to tune in each week and see just how bad it will be.
This year's list does illustrate the current prominence of female filmmakers in the docu field. The 15 films that made the cut represent the work of 20 directors -- five of the films were co-directed by two-person teams -- and of those 20 filmmakers, 15 are women.
They said it wouldn't happen. What a night! What a game!
And we were there (45 yard line, 6 rows back) with 44,111 others. Afterwards, we stormed the field with the crowd (almost getting crushed by shoulder-hoisted Jeremy Ito in the process).
True, I thought my husband was crazy when he suggested season tickets last year. But it sure felt great being season ticket holders this year -- we haven't missed a home game. And after 20 years as Rutgers fans, it feels great to have a team that wins -- on national TV!