Geeking Out the Chicago Way

Ahhh, a weekend trip to the good old Windy City. I'd planned to do nothing but have fun. Because I'm married to a geek, that means part of that fun will inevitably involve geek-related activities. Marriage is all about compromise, after all.

While waiting out a 3-hour flight delay at JFK, I found myself cracking open the first in Brian Lee O'Malley's Scott Pilgrim comic series. I'd intended to play free online tetris til I went cross-eyed, but my Macbook battery ran out and the three-prong outlets in the JetBlue terminal were switched off. (Our flight was so delayed, the airport closed.) So my only options for amusement were either staring off into space, or beseeching my husband to let me borrow one of the 12,000 comics he stuffed into his carry-on for in-flight reading. I finished the first Scott Pilgrim book in about a half hour. Can't say that I fully approve of glorifying lazy hipsters, but the illustrations were fun and the story was definitely one-of-a-kind.

During the flight we caught up on True Blood (so much for worrying about not having enough to read). It was one of those episodes where everyone's running around naked and having sex. Actually, that's all the episodes. But anyway, as the episode played out, RM became increasingly paranoid that everyone on the plane could see what we were watching, and that they would all take offense. I took a break from drooling over Alcide to tell him he was being ridiculous. Then I went back to drooling.

A trip to any city wouldn't be complete without a visit to the best comic shop in town. My brother (our host for the weekend) and I stood awkwardly at the front of Chicago Comics for a half-hour, flipping idly through books like Why is Daddy in a Dress? Asking Awkward Questions with Baby Animals while RM perused. Before we died of boredom and left RM at the store in favor of the nearest beer garden, I skimmed the first few pages of Diary of a Wimpy Kid by Jeff Kinney. Awesome use of exposition and illustration in a way that reminded me of my own awkward childhood.

The whole trip (which also included a Cubs game, some epic bar visits and a gut-busting dinner at Texas de Brazil) was capped off by an unexpected stop at the Robot Store, where they sell, among other things, robots. Unfortunately it was closed, but you can get a sense of the sheer glee of the happening from this photo:

And that's the Chicago way...

Whoever said your wedding was supposed to be one of the greatest days of your life was probably smoking "the crack." Or trying to get money out of you. But that person (or people) was also right.

Just look at this photo and tell me that can't be true.


I wouldn't say that weddings are an event horizon for all brides and grooms. I wouldn't dare even entertain that expectation, if I had it to do all over again. It's only really something you can assign after the fact.

I would say however, that it is an occasion when you learn who your true friends are, who really cares about you, and who you will make part of your future. Being able to say that is the greatest.

A Barrel of Laughs

Between today and yesterday, while trying to keep the weddingmania nerves at bay, I happened upon some truly hilarious things on the interwebs. Thought I needed to share in some way other than clogging your FB and Twitter feeds with links!

First up, a blast from the past. Weren't you just itching to know where the cast of Nickelodeon's early 90s classic "Hey Dude" are today? Well your burning desire to know can now be satisfied. For someone out there has had the free time to track them all down. Here.

In the same vein, remember those awesome 80s and early 90s board games? You know, like "Hungry Hungry Hippos", "Connect Four", "Guess Who" and "Operation"? Did you also remember the commercials? Well they're a little less wholesome than you may have remembered, oh children born of the 1980s...Note, pay specific attention to the "Mr. Bucket" commercial. How Milton Bradley let such salacious implications slide is a mystery that may never be solved.

Now for something completely different...are you interested in learning about the most effective and least expensive form of birth control out there? Try looking at photos of "Shit My Kids Ruined" at the HuffPost. Once you see what these little f#(*$#ers are capable of, you might want to stay home instead of attending the pants party tonight.

And finally, who you gonna call? An improv group here in NYC did a little impromptu live performance at the New York Public Library that pays homage to the original scene from 1984's classic "Ghostbusters." All I can say is I wish I had been there to witness it live. Be sure to scroll down after the video ends to read about some of the behind-the-scenes stuff. Priceless!

And now I will fall back into pre-wedding hysteria. GEM out.

TFFed

This past week, I've been neck-deep in covering the goings-on of the Tribeca Film Festival. And by neck-deep, I mean I was that person in the press holding pen at the red carpet event, dangling over the edge of the divider, balanced only by the heel of one 3.5-inch stiletto, the clip of my press badge and the negligible weight of the microphone in my hand, screaming at Harvey Keitel to turn around and tell me why he thought movies and film have the power to inspire.

I put myself in that ridiculous situation because I was on the hunt for films that would fit the bill for my nifty little labor of love, Reel Inspiration, on Guideposts.com. Despite being largely ignored, stepped on, pushed and tripped, I emerged from the week with some good interviews, good b-roll, and an unscathed face. I think I will end up recommending four films--two docs and two narrative features. I was wowed by the docs and entertained by the features. Stay tuned for my verdict. I'm still putting together my reviews!

Les Jeux Olympiques, Parte Deux

En Francais, s'il vous plait. Mes escritures au patinage.

Original Dance

Free Dance

Ladies Short Program

Ladies Final

См. вас в Россия Sochi 2014!

***Editor's note: please excuse my poor attempt at Russian. While my grasp of French remains intact from my schooling, I actually had to Babelfish the Russian. Perhaps someday I'll take a class...

Parlez-Vous Olympics!?

"The truth is, I've been doing a little...I've been doing a little figure skating."

"Finger painting?"

"...They're not gonna make you shave your legs, are they?"

It's that time of the decade folks! When we gather round the ole' Telly to catch the figure skating competition at the Olympic games. You all do it, don't deny it! Turns out it's not only fun to watch, but it's also a real sport! Who knew!?

As a former competitive figure skater, I was charged with the task of making figure skating palatable to a national audience who may not know a thing about it. I'm blogging about the Vancouver competition on Guideposts.com. As it turns out, I'm learning a lot more about the sport (that I immersed myself in for 10 years) than I ever knew.

I hope you will too. Click on the links below for my commentary!

An introduction and preview of the men's competition

The Pairs Short Program

The Pairs Finals

The Men's Short Program

The Men's Long Program

Ice Dancing: Compulsory Dance

If you like what you read, come back next week for the ice dancing original and free dances, as well as the ladies short and long programs. Good times on ice!

New York Moment

I had a real fish-out-of-water moment last night.

My boss asked me to come help shoot video at an event at the Morgan Library on Madison Avenue. The event was a celebration of the release of one of my company's newest titles, whose subject matter was related very much to Jane Austen's classic (and one of my all-time faves), Pride and Prejudice. The author of this new book, Beth, was going to read an excerpt, while a special guest, actress Jane Seymour, was going to read a passage from Pride and Prejudice itself. The Morgan is currently displaying a Jane Austen exhibit, hence the very fitting location.

I assumed I'd be working, and I didn't really have a firm grasp on the exact nature of the event, so I dressed as usual for a day at the office. We're pretty low-key casual here, so I wore black slacks with a dark purple short-sleeved turtleneck and my favorite obnoxiously bright green low-top sneakers. When you're shooting video, it just doesn't make sense to wear four-inch heels or platforms. You want to be as comfortable as possible, which will enhance your ability to work effectively. I learned that lesson the hard way back in my radio days. Why don't you try chasing after the governor's entourage in peep-toe pumps? It won't end pretty.

The Morgan is out of this world. It was originally built in 1906 (started in '02) to house the personal library of Mister Pierpont Morgan himself, right next to his luxurious 36th Street residence. The guy collected some serious stuff that's still there today--everything from ancient texts to books that were modern in his time. He has rows and rows upon shelves and shelves of books in a library setting you'd secretly love to have in your home and you'd only expect to see in a movie! Rich mahogany everywhere, marble floors. The domed ceilings of the library are painted like the roof of the Sistine Chapel. In sum, it's a classy joint.

I didn't know this upon entering it's hallowed halls. Nor did I know that New York etiquette states that a book release party held in a place like this encourages near-black tie dress codes. So I walk in, wearing my casual duds, sneakers thumping on the hardwood, over-sized bag spilling out the contents of extraneous crap that I lug on a daily basis. And did I mention I was sweating like a whore in church? And my glasses are held together with tape because I haven't had time to get them fixed?

And as if I didn't feel out of place enough, all of my bosses and the higher-ups in my company (including the president), start filing in wearing New York's finest! And then Jane Seymour came in wearing what can only be described as the most beautiful outfit ever. And then Stacey Keach's brother comes strolling in. Then come the media moguls from Mediabistro, MIN and several prominent New York ad agencies. And finally, as the hall is filled to the brim with schmooze and booze, a tuxedoed string quartet strikes up.

Then I discovered that my boss (with whom I arrived) had gone off to schmooze. And someone in a butler outfit offered me an S.Pellegrino with lime. And the next thing I know, the camera person is telling me to go get a glass of wine and schmooze because she didn't actually need my help at all.

So there I am, conspicuously under-dressed with a glass of wine in one hand and a large tripod in the other (I was watching it so the scary museum people wouldn't take it away), in the middle of a fancy cocktail party at the Morgan Library.

Now don't get me wrong. Given these heavy strikes against me, I still managed to schmooze. To my co-workers great credit, they are all wonderful people who don't judge by elitist NYC standards. To them I was perfectly welcome and perfectly appropriate, and they engaged me in some good conversation.

Despite that though, I still felt incredibly awkward. Particularly when I was trying to edge my way through the crowd and my ungainly bag somehow managed to slam into the elbow of the violinist, which in turn disrupted the quartet's playing by causing a horrible screeching sound to echo throughout the library. Yeah, that was me. Fortunately it was so crowded that no one noticed the responsible party. The violinist, thankfully, was not a dick about it. Given the nature of such crowded affairs, I suspect he might be used to it.

Anyhow, the readings went off without a hitch, mostly because my tripod, ungainly bag and I managed to find an out-of-the-way nook in the corner of the library next to Morgan's collection of bibles—some of which seemed to be bigger than I am. Jane Seymour is one of my favorite actresses, specifically for her work in the early 80s in The Scarlet Pimpernel and Somewhere in Time. She read from the first chapter of Pride and Prejudice, captured Mrs. Bennett's insanity and Mr. Bennett's unguarded amusement to a T.

At the conclusion of the event, I walked out into the brisk New York air, and vowed that next time I have to attend an event like this, I hope I'd have as insane a story to tell as I just did.