A catalog of the stuff in my apartment
My hairstylist seems to understand very little of what I say, presumably due to a language barrier. The last time I was in his chair at the salon, I asked him how many haircuts he does in a typical day, and his answer was “Sabrina.” During my previous visit, I thought we had made progress. […]
When I look back on my experience as a moviegoer thus far in life, I feel like I’ve seen a bunch of films. But if that’s the case, then how come whenever a movie comes up in conversation, I haven’t seen it? Or, to put it another way, when exactly did everybody watch The Matrix, […]
When I was a kid, my family referred to the TV remote as “the controls.” As in, Hey, pass me the controls! I wanna watch Family Matters ‘cause it’s 1991 and I gotta learn how to do the Urkel. I’ve never heard anybody else refer to a remote as “the controls.” Course, I’ve never seen […]
The clothes hangers in my apartment are like the Duggars of TLC: There’s a lot of them and they don’t really work. (Seriously: Do any of those people have jobs? Like, I get that their actual occupation is being on that horrible show, but do the parents or any of their multitudes of grown-ass offspring […]
When it comes to movies, I have always been fine with being told what to think. As a kid, I’d watch squabbling film critics Siskel & Ebert on their syndicated TV series, and I’d be utterly swayed by the simple certitude of their thumb-based pronouncements. In fact, whenever they gave a movie two thumbs up, […]
My husband, Frank, and I have three separate holiday traditions that involve Judy Garland. And yet I balk when anyone suggests I’m a Kinsey 6. The Judy festivities begin on whatever day in early December when we install a Christmas tree and hang our stockings on the bookshelf with care (we don’t have a mantel). […]
Indirect Objects 