I spent my lunch break curled up on the couch, relieved to have my hummus all to myself and switching between a broadcast of the film The Other Sister and MTV’s mindnumbing trash My Super Sweet Sixteen. While both share a theme of mild retardation, The Other Sister at least attempts to present a heartwarming message of how even functionally retarded people can love.

Naturally, there’s nothing funny about retardation or autism or whatever it is that Juliette Lewis and Giovanni Ribisi are trying to portray but there is something very funny about people pretending to be retarded or autistic or whatever and passing it off as a serious performance piece. There’s a scene in The Other Sister in which Lewis and Ribisi compete in a ludicrous, unintelligible shrieking match that’s supposed to remind the audience that they shouldn’t laugh at retarded people. Instead, the scene is so bizarre in its execution that it’s actually pretty funny: Lewis forces out her sobs so hard that she practically chokes and Ribisi is trying so hard to be retarded he simply splays out his fingers and whines. Serious considerations like sex, alcohol abuse and mental retardation are treated in such an unrealistic manner that it’s hard to believe the film was greenlighted at all.

I can’t explain with reason why I stop to watch My Super Sweet Sixteen whenever it airs on the soulless, gluttonous, life-sucking machine that is MTV, but I do. Every single episode is like seeing a horrific car accident that I have to stare at in disgust and amazement wondering how something can go so horribly wrong. One can argue that the show is simply scripted or strategically edited, perhaps MTV goes to great lengths to find wealthy families and their obnoxious children. Regardless, this glorification of enfant terrible has developed into a tiresome trend.

Are we raising a new generation of brats? Does a 7-year old really need a PSP, a cell phone and a flatscreen TV in the SUV? Are we so uninterested in talking and dealing with our children that we’ve decided to distract them with technological goodies? Why isn’t it ok to just say no anymore?

To read what I was supposed to post 3 days ago, please proceed.

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My close friend Chris from Ginza Style scored two tickets to see a sneak preview of X-Men: The Last Stand. I’ve always been a fan of the comic books and cartoon series. In fact, I’ve imagined elaborate fantasies where I am Wolverine’s one and only true love. It is only through his fierce devotion towards me that we survive through numerous near-death scenarios and ultimately end up together. I am, of course, the only person who can calm the beast within the man and bring him a sense of peace despite his tortured past. All this even before Hugh Jackman was slated to appear as Logan. Naturally, with all this history between myself and a fictional character I am understandably excited for tonight’s sneak peek, especially with the premiere of the Dark Phoenix.

I purchased a large lot of bamboo circular needles from ebay in order to jumpstart other projects that I plan on working on. I also purchased two books with scarf patterns but I always tend to start new things overzealously. Now I have piles of yarn with no clue where to begin. I’ve already lost my place in the baby blanket broken rib pattern that I was working on and am debating whether to bind off and just use the thing to cry into. So, I’ve decided that the only way to improve upon what little skills I possess is to use up all the yarn I impulsively purchased and practice stitches until I’m confident enough to complete a project with few mistakes. Tonight I’m missing yet another knitting meeting at the Barnes and Noble in order to catch glimpses of Hugh Jackman’s hairy, manly chest. Oh, I don’t know, maybe it’s his psuedo-porn star name that does it for me.

Or maybe its his ability to set my panties aflame with his unbelievable good looks.