Category Archives: television

The Boobchelorette

On Tuesday night, I saw The Education of Dee Dee Ricks. The documentary follows Dee Dee Ricks through as she is diagnosed and is then treated for breast cancer. She has a mastectomy, reconstructive surgery, and endures chemotherapy. She was lucky in that her cancer was diagnosed early, and she had the money to pay her medical bills when insurance coverage fell short. The story really got going when she began to consider the hardships for other women with breast cancer who don’t have her resources, and realized she could help them.

I cried and I laughed and then I cried again. At some point I leaned over and whispered to Jessi (or was it the other way around?) that we should get mammograms. Neither of us are 40 yet, the age at which it is recommended that women start getting annual mammograms. But is it ever too early to start?

Jessi thought we should make a party of it, to make it less scary. Get some girlfriends, rent a limo, go to Northwestern or another hospital or clinic, get our boobs smushed, then treat ourselves to a nice boozy lunch afterwards. I think I’m gonna call it our “boob-chelorette party”.

The Education of Dee Dee Ricks airs tonight (Thursday, October 27) on HBO at 8:30pm (Eastern).


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Mira, @ElsaPatton is on the Twitter

I promise this isn’t going to turn into a blog about “The Real Housewives of Miami” unless that’s what you really want to read about (and you don’t particularly miss me crying over My Super Sad Job Hunt) BUT! You guys. Elsa Patton is now tweeting, and I would be remiss if I didn’t say as much here.

In other news: still unemployed, but still fabulous. At least, that’s what I told myself this morning when I got another rejection. While I reevaluate my skills and my goals, I gotta wonder: is it them (read: the interviewers), or is it really just me?

Don’t answer that.

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separated at birth? Elsa Patton vs. Walter Mercado

Last night, I was watching Elsa Patton on “The Real Housewives of Miami”. Elsa wears fancy caftans, drinks a great deal of wine, and is, in her own words, a witch. Clearly, she is my favorite cast member.

Even so, I couldn’t help but tweet this:

“Elsa is serving some Walter Mercado realness at this dinner party.”

I mean, really.

Elsa Patton (image via

Walter Mercado. Es un caracter, no? (image via

I know Walter Mercado and his fabulous predictions have long been absent from my television, so it’s nice that Elsa and her readings, which are of the psychic and drag-queen nature (“emotionally immature!”), are bringing that back.

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white shoulders

On Monday, I had an appointment with another recruiter. M was a perky brunette who sported a perfect lavender manicure and bright white teeth. I looked at the job description we’d discussed on the telephone last week, we talked some more, and then she said she’d like to talk to her account manager about whether or not we’d go forward. At 10:30 in the morning, it felt like my work for the day was done — because being unemployed is a great deal of work, believe it or not — and I felt entitled to take the rest of the day off.

North branch

I picked a good day to do it. The sun was out, and I was on the corner of Halsted and Chicago, facing east. Though I was wearing my beloved Coach flats that have holes in the sole, I walked from that intersection, east to Michigan Avenue, then north towards Oak Street beach. I had stopped along the way at the Wow Bao in Water Tower Place for a snack, so I enjoyed a late morning snack of barbecue pork buns. Standing on the concrete bit of the lakefront, sand and water seeping into my shoes and making my tights all sludgy. I took off my coat and draped it over one of the orange ladders that descends into the lake.

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The Stupor Bowl

If Kelly hadn’t invited me over to watch the Super Bowl at her place, I would have most likely spent the day in bed, unshowered, watching HGTV until kickoff. I would have eaten a box of SnackWell brand Devil’s Food Cookie Cakes, washed down with some Coke Zero, and called it a night.

But because Kelly invited me over, I had reason to shower! Put on a bra and outside clothes! Leave the house! BUT! My hair’s unkemptitude had been bothering me since, like, forever, so I got a haircut. I even went to the Hair Cuttery, aka the scene of the tragic t0o-short haircut I got in March 2009. This time, I got the lovely Marnie, who gave me a sweet-ass bob. Continue reading

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pressing the mind grapes: back in the office

"it's a small christina" and "it's a small jasmine"

ears ears ears

Yes, folks, I am back from vacation. It must have been good because I forgot my password to log onto the network at work. AWESOME. Personal blogging, including trip reports, should resume momentarily. In the meantime, check out my photos. [Flickr]

Jeers to TBS for burning off the last two episodes of their comedy My Boys (which I have grown to love over the years) opposite the VMA’s and Sunday Night Football. TBS, are you even trying to give this show a shot? [TV Guide]

This dude got to learn how to drive in a Corvette. At race car driving school. How butch. [Esquire]

50’s style inspired by the films of John Waters. [Who What Wear]

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hang with me

Can we just take a minute to watch this video and marvel at how wonderful this song is?

Okay, take another minute. It’s so worth it.

I think by now you’re probably wondering what I did this weekend, so let’s begin.

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i like to watch: nerds, gleeks, and paintballs

I remember saying a while ago that “Modern Family” was my favorite show of the current season (which is currently winding down) but even then I wasn’t sure with “Community”, “Justified”, and “Glee” being in the mix. “Glee” has felt off to me since its return, and Alyssa Rosenberg crystallized my feelings almost exactly when she wrote about “Glee” for The Atlantic earlier this week.

Of course, I still love “Glee”, but I’m forcing myself to be pickier about what I do and don’t like. Right now, I’m not always loving the musical numbers, Rachel-Jesse-Finn, and (as ever) Asian/Other Asian/Mercedes/Artie getting little screentime. Am I still dying for some represent-Asian for my yellow, brown, and black peeps? Fuck yes.

Especially since they killed off all the Asians on “Lost”. They killed off all the Asians!

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odds & sods

“Justified” premiered this week on FX. Though Patrick insists on joking that Timothy Olyphant is really just Josh Duhamel’s bootleg brother, he really likes the show and I do too. The cold open blew me away (yes, that was a lame joke if you’ve seen it) and was a great way to start. Hope the series maintains this level of intensity and humor. Continue reading

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didn’t mean to turn you off

Note: If you don’t want to read about my lady problems I advise that you click here to skip the next paragraph.

I’ve had my period most of this week. It started Sunday afternoon, appropriately enough during an afternoon matinee of Valentine’s Day. Is that karma? No, it’s prometrium, a drug I take which makes me menstruate. I can’t menstruate without assistance in part because I have PCOS. I’ll wait while you read the entry for the condition on Wikipedia.

My gyno prescribed it back in December. I only have to do it every other month. The thing I will say about prometrium is that it means business. Seriously, I had so much blood loss Monday and Tuesday that I thought I was going to pass out. I would come home from work, eat something, and then fight to stay awake. This is my explanation for not blogging much this week. I swear that it felt like all the blood that was supposed to be circulating through my arms and hands and fingers was instead leaving my body instead.

When I expressed this sentiment to Cynthia the other evening, on our way out of the office after a long day, she sympathized and then started laughing when I said rather daffily “All I want on that first heavy day is a steak and a nap.”

I love our brief chats, usually held on the bus that chugs across the Loop. Apparently our happy chatter was disturbing a lady sitting nearby, reading a book. I didn’t notice her (I try not to focus on haters) but Cynthia mentioned it to me and I was all “Sorry, lady, I didn’t mean to ruin your literacy!” because I’m so clever.

I spent Tuesday night at the tech rehearsal for the “academic exercise disguised as a show” that has previously been referred to as “my recital” or “That 60’s Show”. I bought some low-sugar Gatorade and a pack of gum before heading over to Davenport’s. Davenport’s is a piano bar in Wicker Park, around the corner from the Beachwood, aka “the bar I spent most of my early to late twenties in”. I thought about stopping in for a beer after rehearsal but after two hours of sitting in a dark room listening to everybody sing (and everybody sounds great) and then four harrowing minutes of me and my partner singing, I wanted to go home and rock back and forth in bed and pray that I get blessed with the voice of Aretha Franklin or at least her little cousin before Sunday’s performance. Kinda like that bit in Beautiful Thing where Leah thinks getting hit over the head will change her voice into something beautiful. “I wanted it to change!”

We practiced setting up the mic stand properly, holding it in the right place, how and where to stand on stage. Ladies were reminded to wear makeup for the video. When Linda and I got up on stage, we could see nothing but dark in front of us. People sitting at the tables right at the edge of the stage, and not much else. Gwen played piano behind us but besides her it wasn’t much else but the two of us, two microphones, and an Oriental carpet on the floor. Something about singing to the dark was very comforting. No people idly checking their cell phones or yawning to distract or frighten me. It’s the bit I liked best about acting in plays in middle school and high school, something I gave up along with singing when I went off to college. I’m not sure why I stopped doing those things, but I like the idea that I’m getting back into doing all this stuff just because it pleases me. A ham cannot change its spots.

There isn’t much to tell about Wednesday except Cynthia and I had lunch with Jacalyn and Jessica, who we haven’t seen in ages. The sisters looked gorgeous, as always. We talked mainly about mutual friends and former co-workers, as always. Oh, and that evening I discovered the powerful and adorable time-suck that is Sushi Cat (thanks,, for posting this to your links section and therefore ruining my life). Also, I watched another episode of “The Inbetweeners”. Are you watching this yet? You need to be. Check it:

Cynthia and I spent Thursday lunch break shopping for boots for her. We found nothing because spring is almost here and who wants to look at winter boots now? Um, anybody in Chicago, where spring doesn’t properly arrive until, like, May? Anyway, we slunk out of Nordstrom, where we encountered the Kodak “Meet The Oscars” exhibit.

There was a dais set up, with a podium. And on that podium is a real life Oscar. You stride up, hit your best pose, and a lovely young man takes your picture with the statuette. You get a copy right then and there, and 24 hours later you can get free digital downloads or prints from this web site. Of course, Cynthia’s shot looked adorable — head thrown back in delight, roaring with laughter as she revels in the honor. Sadly, the only bit of the Oscar in her picture is the bottom of the round base. Naturally, I went in a different direction, pretending to sob hysterically and thanking Jesus for blessing me with so much talent. The staff loved it. The guy who actually took the picture totally yelled “Diva!” while I channeled Tammy Faye Bakker-Messner (RIP) and cried like a bitch baby.

God my face looks fat

"I want to thank the baby Jesus for making me so awesome!"

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