Tag Archives: Beer

What I really think about tax returns.

Ahhh, feels so good to file your taxes. Though I probably should have gotten around to doing it about a month ago, I still feel pretty good about getting my tax return filed six weeks before Tax Day (my 14th favorite holiday).

Since filing them yesterday afternoon, I have been obsessively fantasizing about all of the things I can do with my $412. Of course, once I write them down they probably won’t seem so exciting, but fuck it! I’m still thrilled to be getting money that I almost didn’t notice I had lost. Of course, there is the inevitability that someday in the future I will actually owe the government money, rather than the other way around, but I’m going to choose not to think about that. I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.

Anyway, my Tax Day List (not unlike a Christmas list!):

1. Save: I am going to try my darnedest to set aside some money as a base to save for moving in the somewhat near future. I am also going to attempt to save at least $50 for my second favorite holiday (next to Taylor’s birthday, of course) 4/20/2010!!

2. Go grocery shopping: Thrilling, I know, but I owe Taylor a fatty round of groceries for the both of us, cause she got this last one while I was waiting for my first paycheck. Plus, by the time I get my return I will be almost done with my vegan thing, and can splurge on some delicious things (brie, ice cream), unless of course the next three weeks are truly life altering.

3. Pay bills: We needn’t go into too much detail here, this is pretty dull and depressing and definitely self-explanatory.

4. Pay a debt: I have a couple of debts collected around town. : D Mostly, a movie rental chain (which will remain unnamed) totally fucked me over for the price of three DVDs at $150. How this makes sense, I do not know, but it consequently overdrew my bank account, etc. So I have decided to pay this bullshit off, and get it out of my hair.

5. Buy measuring cups!: I know, I know, you’re starting to wonder if I could be anymore boring or like your mother. Let me tell you, you’re probably right. But almost all of our measuring cups except one have been lost/broken/melted/chewed by the dogs. And if you were trying to make bread (three cups of water and six-and-a-half cups of flour) and all you had was a 1/3 cup measuring device, you’d be going crazy too. And fucking up your recipes cause you can’t keep count.

6. Buy a gift for Taylor: Ya know, something pretty. Or practical, by the looks of this list. But either way, something I will not disclose here, cause she’ll see it, and it’ll wreck the surprise (even though she claims to hate surprises anyway.)

7. Order some beer: Yup. But only because I want a damn six pack of Leinenkugel’s Sunset Wheat (featured in my Christmas list post), and the only place in Portland I’ve been able to find it is Henry’s. And though I love their selection of beer (as it is vast!), it is usually too crowded and loud and overwhelming for my introverted taste, plus two pints of the beer I want would probably the same price (or more) than I could pay to have it shipped to my doorstep, where I could enjoy it slowly, in the company of good friends.

8. Have a fun night out/date night: Like a movie or laser light show and maybe fancy dinner and dessert. Maybe a trip up to Rocky Butte to see the lights at night, a long drive out somewhere, a picnic. Something great.

And that is all I can think of for now, though I’m pretty sure that I just spent more money in my head than the return will be total, so maybe the saving bit will end up going out the window. : D

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What I really think about “The Road.”

A week (or two? or so?) ago, I (unsuspectingly) went out for a few beers with an old friend of mine–we’ll call him Osh. (:D) After consuming a couple of pints (mmm, yes, a very pleasantly warm buzz) which left me vunerable, Osh (the Wily and Malevolent!) somehow tricked me into seeing a movie with him (I think it was the drunken stupor and free passes that did it). From here, an experience so terribly scarring occurred, one which I have yet to get out of my head.

We saw “The Road.”

I had heard good reviews of the book from writers of The Believer (which I do recommend, as they have rarely led me astray), but knew nothing of the story or movie, etc. In fact, it was quite the opposite of what I had expected, as in my drunkenness I confused Cormac McCarthy with Frank McCourt.

Oh dear.

For the record, I haven’t read the book, I’m basing this blog purely on the movie, but I am open to the possibility that the novel is work of literary genius (though the movie was a traumatic enough experience to turn me off). While I’ve always considered the novel to be a more powerful medium of expression (because your imagine, inferences, and interpretation is much more compelling than someone else’s), this movie shoves the gray bleakness and total grief directly in your face.

It didn’t help that all I could see in my entire line of sight and most of my peripheral vision was the movie.

Don’t get me wrong now, I am not opposed to sad or tragic movies, nor do I think they should all have happy endings, and I’m perfectly fine with getting well outside of my comfort zone, in fact I think it is somewhat essential from time to time. But I would have liked there to be more of a story, or something of a lesson, or any sort of point or purpose aside from making me nauseated/squirm/want to cry.

If you are excited at the idea of this cinematic monster, then I must warn you: SPOILER ALERT!

To sum up the movie: In a post-apocalyptic world (though they don’t really go into any detail about this apocalypse, in case you were curious) a father (Viggo Mortensen) and son (some kid) walk across America, southbound, looking for the coast, where they hope life is a little better. Everything around them is pretty much dead/ashen/gray and it seems to be cold all the time. Any survivors are scavenging, and some have resorted to cannibalism (which adds some pretty grotesque scenes into the mix). Occasionally, the father has flashbacks to his life before the half-life he is now leading, which really just makes his current situation that much more heartbreaking and awful. And then he dies, and his son is taken in by another family, undoubtedly doomed to wander and scavenge until he starves/is eaten/contracts some virus/commits suicide.

Osh seemed to think the movie was well done, and I suppose I would second that, though I know little of how to critique that aspect of a film.

If you like to torture yourself, are looking to have a good cry, or enjoyed the book–I recommend seeing this movie. If you are looking to seek revenge on someone you hate, I would suggest gifting them a complimentary ticket or two to this movie.

And, if for some insane, self-loathing reason you find yourself planning to see “The Road,” please, do not drink beforehand.

But what do I know, eh?

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Filed under Belly-aching., Critiques.