Ms. Yvonne Goes to Washington

I just got back from a mini-vacation to Washington, D.C. with my mom and brother. We got to see a lot of cool things: the Washington Monument, Mt. Vernon, the Lincoln Memorial and a bunch of other memorials and museums.

But despite their majesty and historical significance, none could quite hold a candle to the one attraction I was bound and determined to see when I found out we were going to D.C.: The Puffy Shirt.

Housed in the Smithsonian's National Museum of American History, the shirt is the centerpiece of one of my favorite episodes of "Seinfeld" and, in my opinion, one of the best episodes of television in the past 10 years.

I think it's telling that right next to the Puffy Shirt was a case with a pair of the Ruby Red Slippers from "The Wizard of Oz," and more people were gathered around the puffy shirt. Judy Garland is probably rolling over in her grave as we speak.

Other Seinfeld items I would have liked to see if it was a larger exhibit: The Black and White Cookie, the signed birthday card for George Steinbrenner, Kramer's jacket, Elaine's sponge.

A Year in Film

I saw Steven Spielberg's new film "Munich" last night. I though it was incredible. It dealt with some complicated issues and was difficult to watch at times, but it remained riveting for its entire 2 hours and 45 minutes. Plus, Eric Bana is hot.

It got me thinking that I've seen a lot of good movies this year, although I didn't get to the theater as much as I would have liked. I know there's been a major dropoff in attendance, but it can't be blamed completely on a lack of good movies. Of course, there has been a TON of crap released, as well, but there were definitely some quality films to counterbalance that.

My personal favorites (keeping in mind I haven't seen a ton of movies I've wanted to see, including King Kong, Brokeback Mountain, Kontroll, Murderball, March of the Penguins and, of course, XXX: State of the Union) are, in no particular order:

Dot the I--A fun, twisty thriller. I'm sure everybody else in the theater got the twist long before I did, but I'm an idiot about stuff like that. I hate watching movies with people who lean over halfway through and whisper, "I bet he killed his mother." And they end up being right. Bastards. But anyway, Gael Garcia Bernal brought the hotness, which made up for lack of ingenuity in the plot.

Millions--The kid in this movie is freaking adorable, and not in that precocious, Macauly Culkin or "Boy Meets World" Stuart Minkus kind of way that makes you want to punch him in the face. It's a really sweet story, and the fact that it was directed by the same guy who did "28 Days Later," which scared the living shit out of me, made it even better.

Enron: The Smartest Guys in the Room--This movie also scared the shit out of me, but for very different reasons. A really good documentary on the train wreck that was Enron.

Kung Fu Hustle--It's hard for me to know what to say about this movie other than it rocked. It was like a Chinese live action version of old Warner Bros. cartoons on acid. Or something. And they're making a sequel, which I'm super excited about.

Crash--Despite the presence of Brendan Fraser, who inexplicably annoys the crap out of me, I loved this movie. It kind of beat you over the head with the message, but it was so well done that it didn't really matter. Terrance Howard gave the best performance of the year. Also, Ludacris was surprisingly convincing.

Batman Begins--Christian Bale is the only Batman since Michael Keaton who actually does the role justice. Plus, like Gael Garcia Bernal and Eric Bana before him, he brought the hotness.

Me and You and Everyone We Know--Another movie that's hard to describe, but which was so awesome. There were times it got a bit pretentious, but it was unlike anything else I saw this year. Another adorable kid. This one talks about poop in a hilarious scene that alone is worth the rental.

The 40 Year Old Virgin--There seemed to be two camps: those who liked this movie and those who preferred "Wedding Crashers." I'm sorry, but this was hands-down the funniest movie I saw this year and one of the funniest movies I've ever seen. "Wedding Crashers" was "Son of the Mask" in comparison. OK, perhaps that's a bit of an exaggeration.

Capote--Philip Seymour Hoffman rocked my face off with his performance. The movie was better than average, but only because of him.

Walk the Line--I'm not gonna lie--I cried like a baby for the majority of the movie. The on-stage scenes are amazing.

Honorable Mentions:
Downfall
The Constant Gardener
Green Street Hooligans'
In Her Shoes
Shopgirl
The Squid and the Whale
The Aristocrats

Worst:
High Tension--Way to waste a perfectly good movie with the most craptacular, cliched ending EVER.
Must Love Dogs--Must love crap is more like it. I was dragged against my will by my mother who, incidentally, loved it. Go figure.
Hide and Seek--Are you kidding me? Did this even seem like a good idea on paper?

Upcoming in 2006: "Die Hard 4: Die Hardest," "The Santa Clause 3" and "Garfield 2." Score! It's gonna be a great year!!

A Blast From the Past

The last time I listened to Q-101, I was still rocking tapered jeans and I hadn't yet discovered the joys of being able to drive. I try not to listen to the radio too much in general, if only because I am a firm believer that hearing "Laffy Taffy" more than twice a day will cause me to hurt myself or others, and there's no escaping it if you listen to the radio on a regular basis. It will find you.

So imagine my surprise when my co-worker Z, who sits next to me, turned his radio to Q-101 and Ween's "Push Th' Little Daisies" came on. I hadn't heard that song since it came out when I was 13. Yes, it's a completely bizarre song, but I love it! Apparently, the station is doing something called "13 Years in 13 Days," where they play the top 100 songs from every year starting with 1993 through the present.

I am extremely excited by this. I missed 1993, but yesterday I got to hear "Mmm Mmm Mmm" by Crash Test Dummies, Live's "Lightning Crashes" and Soul Asylum's "Runaway Train." Today, 1995, I've been rocking out to Ass Ponies' "Little Bastard," Rusted Root's "Send Me On My Way" and Pearl Jam's "Immortality." I miss Pearl Jam! I miss these songs! I am actually semi-excited to come to work tomorrow so I can hear 1996! I know that's pathetic, but I don't care!

It was in the mid-1990s that I actually started to care about music and develop my taste for what I liked and what I thought sucked (I am aware that "Little Bastard" is not a quality song, by the way, but I hadn't heard it in so long that I kind of liked it when I heard it). It's so cool to be able to hear for the first time in a long time songs that defined my adolescense. I imagine it'll get less cool the closer they get to 2005, but through 2000, I'll be rockin' it old school style with the Q.

House Party, Kid n' Play Style

Whoa. After this crazy weekend, I was fully reminded of how nuts Decembers can be. Between holiday parties, holiday shopping and holiday pigging out, it's a very draining month. We hosted Winter Formal 2005 on Saturday, and I would say it was a solid success. I don't have photos yet, but I can paint a picture for you with words. No need to tell me how poetic that was.
Highlights included:
--Hanging out with several dashing-looking men in sport coats and ties
--Taking a swig of cheap tequila out of Greg's flask, which made me feel like the floozy at the junior high dance hanging out with the bad boy
--Watching a guy who we didn't know (a friend of a friend, who, incidentally, was sporting a 70s porn mustache) completely faceplant on our kitchen floor
--Eating half a cheese log at 2am (it seemed like a good idea at the time)
--Watching Mike put an empty cracker box on his head (I'm sure to him it seemed like a good idea at the time)

I'm sure there are others, but the evening is all very hazy to me in hindsight, especially the last few hours. Thanks to everybody who came out, though; I hope you had a fun time.

*A shout out to my roommate, who appeared in her first Second City show this weekend and totally rocked. Watch out, Tina Fey.

Take Your Diamond and Shove It

Diamonds are pretty, no? All sparkly and shiny, they make you think of love and hope and all that crap. I have nothing against diamonds. They've never done anything to me.

But seriously, if I see one more commercial before Christmas for Jared, Zales, De Beers or JB Robinson, I am going to straight up lose it.

Seriously, are these not the worst displays you have ever seen? The women in the ads are all, "I don't want another tea cozy for Christmas this year, so I made sure to tell my man to go to Zales." Are they for real? Like, are there women out there who are actually going to kick their guys to the curb if they don't receive a 24kt rock? Was your wedding/engagement ring not enough for you, you crazy lady? Do you really NEED more diamonds? Is that what Jesus would really want for you on HIS birthday? IS IT??

OK, I'm done now. Check it out, though, someone agrees with me:

http://www.thephatphree.com/features.asp?SectionID=11&StoryID=1862&LayoutType=1

Why can't this be love?
My brush with superrockdom yesterday rocked. As you can see, Mr. Anthony is quite a short man, but he has a big heart (as well as a big goatee and a big mullett.)

Highlights included:
-Alana and I making fools of ourselves on Mancow when a guy shoved a mic in our faces; Alana blanked on the name of a Van Halen song and I announced Eddie Van Halen as my favorite VH singer (I thought the guy asked my favorite VH member).
-Meeting a guy who looked and acted exactly like Wayne Campbell. I kept expecting him to tell us to party on.
-Getting to hear about how Michael Anthony proposed to his wife in a McDonald's drive thru.
-Eating tons of awesome food, most of it fried and/or greasy. If only I had been hungover, it would have felt like being in college all over again. Because I always hung out with rock stars in college. In case you didn't know.
-Having several mullett sightings.
-Having him sign a CD to my mom: Loretta, ya doll! Love, Michael Anthony.
-Him telling us that "Eddie has issues, so a VH reunion doesn't look too good, but me and Sammy are working on a bunch of stuff." Van Halen gossip! Score!
-Turning Michael down when he asked me to come on tour with him. OK, that didn't actually happen. He asked me, but I haven't turned him down yet. I told him I need time to think about it.

All in all, a rockin' afternoon. Thanks to my comrade in rock, Alana, for accompanying me; we were by far the coolest people at that table (other than Michael Anthony, of course).

Right Now...I'm rockin' out with Michael Anthony

One of my favorite lame things to do is call in to win radio contests. I'm actually not too bad at it. I realize that dialing a phone number takes little skill, but I like to believe I have the Zusel Touch when it comes to these things. I've won many CDs and movie tickets over the years just from keeping my dialin' finger strong.

Well, last week it served me well yet again: I won a bottle of Michael Anthony BBQ sauce. You may be asking yourself, as I did while I was calling in to win the sauce, 'Who the hell is Michael Anthony?' Apparently, he is the bassist for Van Halen. Who knew? Sure as hell not me. I mean, I like Van Halen and all, I rock out David Lee Roth/Sammy Hagar-style when Jump or Running With the Devil come on the radio. But I am by no means an uberfan. Which is going to be awkward come tomorrow, when I am set to share a two hour lunch with Mr. Anthony. Because, you see, when I won the sauce, I also qualified to win lunch with the man. And win I did. And I am going to go. I might not know much about him right now, but by the end of the lunch, I expect to know all the ins and outs, the nooks and crannies, of Michael Anthony Sobolewski. That's right, his middle name is Anthony, but he uses it as his last name. Didn't know that, didja? Well, neither did I until two seconds ago. The Internet is a beautiful thing. I want to know what makes the man tick. I want to know his hopes, fears and desires. Mostly, I want to know how he rocks a hard core mullet and still manages to look semi-cool.

I'm a little freaked out that he will quickly catch on that I am not The Biggest Van Halen Fan of All Time and be annoyed. That's why I'm planning on teasing my hair, wearing acid washed jeans and asking him to sign my cleavage. I figure I can blind him with my groupie imitation and get him reminiscing about the good ole' days.

Anybody have anything they want me to ask him or have him sign for them? Also, any Michael Anthony factoids that I can impress him with would be greatly appreciated. Wish me luck!

**BTW, if anybody would like to accompany me, I get to bring a guest. I just found out about this yesterday, so I haven't had a lot of time to find somebody to come. If you are free between 12:30 and 2:30pm tomorrow and you're interested, let me know.

Nothing like a little alcohol to weed out the office pervs

As a general rule, I don't like blogging about work. I am, however, a fan of blogging about the awesomeness of getting toasty with coworkers during a yearly event known the world over as the Company Christmas Party. I'm sure everybody has been to at least one. The worst ones are painful at best, excruciatingly painful at worst. This is usually the case when you work in a small office where most of the employees have no interaction outside of work, so when you do end up hanging outside of work in a social setting, it's muy awkward. You end up having to listen to Louise talk about her cat Snuggles for an hour, and when she mistakes your polite interest for genuine interest, out come the pictures, at which point you have to ooh and ahh at a blurry photo of Snuggles' crap clumps in its litter box when all you really want to do is poke Louise in the eye with your fork and you end up realizing no free meal is worth this torture. But I digress.

I'm actually totally psyched about my office party tonight, though. And yes, I did just use the phrase "totally psyched." I had just started at my company right before last year's party and didn't really know anybody; this year, I'm the coolest kid in the office and everybody wants to be me. Actually, that's not true at all. But I'm at least friendly with several people, and we are all planning on taking advantage of the open bar and making fun of the losers in the other departments. Those bitches in Client Services aint got nuthin on us, yo. We're gonna throw up the Publishing sign when we walk in the door, and they're gonna know what's up. I've dared my co-worker E (he of the out-of-control Chuck Norris love) to request the R. Kelly classic "Bump n' Grind," and then ask our boss to dance. We'll see if he pulls through.

What I'm most looking forward to, though, is watching the American Idol-style talent show that's held at the end of the night. I didn't stay for it last year, but apparently I missed out. There's nothing I love more than listening to a bunch of tone deaf drunks belting out "I Will Survive" and "Achy Breaky Heart." It's so going to rock.

I always said I had a little black in me...

NEW YORK -- They have baggy clothing, backward baseball caps, the "bling bling" and racy lyrics. And these days, rappers sometimes wear yarmulkes too. Hip-hop music, which grew out of black inner cities, isn't typically associated with Jews, but as the genre has grown more popular, some Jewish artists have embraced it as their own, while transcending theological and ethnic differences. New York-based Hip Hop Hoodios, whose name is a play on the Spanish word for Jews, is a Latino-Jewish group that has recorded in English, Spanish and Hebrew. Their lyrics include such sardonic lines as: "My nose is large, and you know I'm in charge." A popular 26-year-old Hasidic singer, Matisyahu, raps in a brimmed hat and dark suit over reggae beats. "Torah food for my brain let it rain till I drown, Thunder! Let the blessings come down," he says in "King Without a Crown." The growing genre has also seen artists like Remedy collaborate with mainstream acts like Wu-Tang Clan. "It's very much a representation of the cooperative state of Jewish and black relations today," said Rabbi Marc Schneier, president of the Foundation for Ethnic Understanding, which is chaired by hip-hop impresario Russell Simmons. "I view cooperation, not conflict, as the defining element."

Has anybody seen Matisyahu on MTV? That guy rocks the mic like a vandal, lights up a stage and waxes a chump like a candle. That's him rocking out with Death Cab for Cutie above. I'll let you guess which one he is. My grandma lives in a predominately Hassidic area, and next time I visit, I'm expecting a Rabbi to start busting out with "Laffy Taffy." Hey, it's a kosher candy, yo.

Mario Rocks

Has anybody seen that commercial for Super Mario Strikers where a guy dressed in a giant Mario suit runs out onto a soccer field and throws elbows at soccer players, trips the referee and scores in his own goal? It is hilarious, and it makes me really nostalgic for old school Super Mario Bros. on NES. Mario and Luigi were a big part of my childhood, and several people have messed with them over the years, which I am not happy about. Bob Hoskins and John Leguizamo in that shitty excuse for a movie, the people responsible for the crappy cartoon version, and my brother. I will never get over him selling all our old NES games at Funcoland when we were younger to fund his POG addiction. Not cool, Mike. Not cool. POGs were a fleeting trend; Super Mario Bros. is forever. Have some loyalty, for God's sakes. I have to say, to be fair, I was an equal fan of Duck Hunt, but we lost the gun and my dad wouldn't buy us a new one. Jerk. Pointing our thumbs and index fingers like guns at the TV screen Charlie's Angels-style stopped being amusing very quickly. Anyway, I stumbled across this and it made me happy. I especially love the naked one. Any favorite NES moments from your childhood?

I'm assuming my invitation got lost in the mail

So Archbishop Don Magic Juan, my personal favorite of the Archbishops (right in front of Desmond Tutu), graced Maywood, Ill. with his presence this weekend at his Players Ball Convention. You might remember the self-proclaimed "King of there Pimps" for his memorable turns as Himself in the acclaimed documentaries "Pimps Up, Hos Down," and "American Pimp," or perhaps you're familiar with his personal mantra, which speaks to the soul and to which I'm sure we can all relate: "My favorite colors are green for the money and gold for the honey." I feel you, Don. Truer words were never spoken. He also recorded a lovely little ditty with his pal Snoop Dogg.

Right. So The Magic was there on Saturday, presiding over the Player's Ball, where he gave out an award for "No. 1 International Pimp of the Year," celebrated his birthday and drank enough Moet and Courvoisier to flood a couple of small towns.

Here's a man who has contributed so much to society, who gives it to you straight with no chaser, and yet some haters still have to rain on The Magic's parade. Hey fools, don't hate, participate.

Don't get me wrong: I'm definitely not a fan of pimps or what they do to women. But pimping has become such a parody of itself that it's hard to take it seriously, anyway: Nelly hawks Pimp Juice energy drink; Ice-T, the most celebrated of the pimps, has gone legit as a detective on "Law and Order: SVU" and Vince Vaughn played a pimp parody in the movie "Be Cool." Actual pimping is wrong, but there's a difference between beating and exploiting women and taking an outdated element of the lifestyle and turning it on its head.

Wikipedia says that as of late, the verb "to pimp" has acquired a meaning not related to prostitution: to promote, to advertise or to push, as in "ESPN has really been pimping T.O. a lot lately."

Then again, if I lived in Maywood, I don't know if I'd want a Player's Ball in my backyard, either. Would you?

So I was having a drink with my girl AL last night, and she tells me about a guy she recently met, a friend of a friend who was wearing a wedding ring when she met him. Naturally, she assumed he was married. It turns out he was single; he just wears the ring to the bars because he thinks it makes women feel less threatened by him, like he's not going to try to pick them up, so they can just be themselves. Once they open up to him, he drops the bomb that he is, in fact, single. Apparently, this has been a successful tactic for him on several occasions.

Is this guy for real? And do real, live girls actually fall for this?

Have you ever made up a story this ludicrous to pick somebody up at a bar, and it actually worked? Because I would love to hear about it. And meet the idiot who fell for it. Hopefully you are not dating said idiot now. Because that would make you an idiot, too.

On a side note: I'm feeling agressive today. This kind of describes my mood, although the people I most want to beat down are not metioned on the list...Don't worry. It's not any of you. Probably.

I think most people are familiar with the awesomeness that is Chuck Norris. Karate master and acclaimed actor, he brought to life a character most actors would give a vital organ to play: Walker, Texas Ranger. Yes, The Norris is a force to be reckoned with, a man who could take you down with a single roundhouse kick to the face. Yes, you. I don't care how tough you think you are--The Norris is tougher.

You can read about his awesome-ocity here

OK, so we've established that The Norris is awesome, right? Here's the problem: my two co-workers are obsessed with him. They happened upon the above list last week, and now The Norris factors into just about every conversation they have. A dramatization:

E: Hey, did you see that thing in the paper about that woman who got killed and robbed in Evanston?
Z: Yeah, that was crazy.
E: Man, if Norris was there, he would have just roundhouse kicked the guy who did it in the face, and it would have been over.
Z: Yeah he would have! Norris would have messed that guy up!!

Don't get me wrong--these guys are great, and I consider them my friends. But it's getting a little out of control. They are talking about buying and wearing these and putting these
up in their cubicles. I'm assuming they're being ironic about it, but the level of Norris Worship has reached an all-time high. Z has taken to making up his own "facts" about The Norris; he just sent this to me:

when the CIA was first created in 1947 by president truman, it was originally called CHUCK. it consisted of only one man, chuck norris, who dealt out justice around the world. future presidents, however, deemed this unfair and thought it would create such an unbalanced political and military climate that norris had to become a texas ranger and serve up roundhouse kicks on his own time.

Now before you start thinking, "Oh, she's just got Norris Envy. She's jealous that they're paying more attention to The Norris than they are to her," let me stop you. It's not that I don't love The Norris--I am a firm believer in Chuck's Code of Ethics.

It's just that I think that if things continue in this manner, I might have to stage an intervention. In the form of roundhouse kicks to the face.