Author Archives: plumpdumpling

My Favourite Things of the Moment

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1) I assume that everyone has seen this at this point, but I just want to point out that:

a) this is the local news station I watch (don’t ask me why) when I’m at my apartment, and
b) Kamran and I have used it in so many aspects of our daily conversation at this point that it’s only getting funnier.

2) Elena Kalis, who my co-worker Anthony introduced me to.

3) Skeletons Fighting Over a Pickled Herring, a James Ensor painting from . . . 1891?! How messed up was this guy to be creating this craziness more than 100 years ago?

Shameless Self-Promotion

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I somehow convinced my very accomplished brother-in-law, owner of MaxWeb, to design an Unapologetically Mundane sticker for me recently. There’s no point to it, obviously, except that it serves my vanity in ways that simply linking to my posts in my Facebook profile never could.

So if you’d like me to send you some stickers to plaster all around whatever podunk town you live in, please e-mail me at plumpdumpling at unapologeticallymundane.com with your address. Or if you just want one for your creepy (but in a hott way) shrine to me, also e-mail me at plumpdumpling at unapologeticallymundane.com with your address.

Blog #3!

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Oh, you thought keeping up with my two other blogs was too much? Well, GUESS WHAT. There’s a third one.

WWW.LOSTANDLONELYLEFTOVERS.COM

This one is entirely impersonal, though. Just the way you like it.

Here’s the RSS feed, and I’m sure someone who loves me will make me a LiveJournal feed soon.

Nothing You Know About the World is Correct

Filed under there's a difference between films and movies
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My mom was an English teacher who had a special interest in mythology (something I know absolutely nothing about, go figure), so growing up, I watched a lot of Clash of the Titans (awesome!) and Labyrinth as my mom prepared her class lesson plans at home (usually the night before). She was known as fruitcake teacher, so finding films that were even casually related to her class subjects was de rigeur.

I didn’t know how important watching those movies as a kid was to me until I found out years later that my best friend, Tracey, was also a Labyrinth fan. We spent countless Friday nights in high school at her house, eating Ben & Jerry’s Phish Food, watching Labyrinth, and transcribing Bush lyrics from the closed captioning on taped episodes of “Saturday Night Live” because we didn’t know anyone who had the Internet and could look them up for us. Which probably explains why neither of us had boyfriends.

Later, I had a week-long love affair with a boy in Columbus simply because one of the approximately ten DVDs he had, Labyrinth was one of them. My ex-boyfriend Todd loved it, Kamran at least tolerates it, and my dear friend Bachelor Girl referenced it in a post just the other day. It’s probably important to you, too, which is why we’re such close blogfriends, right?

The other day, I read my friend Lorraine’s AOL Instant Messenger away message, and it said:

Hey, you remind me of a man.
What man?
Man with the power.
What power?
Power of hoodoo.
Hoodoo?
You do.
Do what?
Remind me of a man.

Which is, of course, from this scene in Labyrinth:

OR SO I THOUGHT. I IMed Lorraine basically to tell her that she’s an idiot and to quit jacking with my movie quotes, but she informed me (politely) that it’s actually from a Cary Grant movie called The Bachelor and the Bobby-Soxer:

Unbelievable, right?! What a massacre of everything I thought was true and right in the world. At least the David Bowie version is way better.

You Don’t Even Want to Know the Nicknames We Used to Wish Each Other a Happy Anniversary This Morning

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Today marks the third anniversary of the day Kamran and I met at S’MAC in the East Village for macaroni, cheese, and a first date for the ages. I wore a black hoodie and old jeans because I thought I wasn’t going to care to impress him, and he said things like, “I spent the past six years living in New Jersey,” when he meant, “I spent the past six years earning my PH.D. FROM PRINCETON.” Afterward, he charmed the pants off of me (not literally) by taking me for drinks at a bar with red velvet furniture and telling me all about his guilty pleasure bands.

As we parted at the train station later, he said, “I’ll call you,” and I said, “Thanks for taking me out,” and he said, “The pleasure was mine,” which seemed really slick and grown-up at the time but would later turn out to be something he says on a daily basis. I gave him a hug to signal that he had my permission to run the hell away and never call me again, but he said, “I’m still going to wait until your train comes.” I said, “But we’ve already said goodbye! Now we’re gonna be all awkward.” He asked, “What’s better than two goodbyes?”, and I said, “No goodbyes.” Sexy!

Most days feel just as exciting as that first one did, and the days that don’t feel exciting still feel full of a deep, understanding love that I couldn’t even imagine until I met him but now probably take for granted because it feels like such a part of me. Even after three years, it still seems like our time together has just begun, and I hope that we end up just like the eternal embrace skeletons.

Even if it’s just because we strangled each other to death.