LOVE:

“The Librarians” on TNT:

Basic cable Christmas specials with cheesy lines should not make me sob like an infant. But The Librarians did. How did I end up watching the entire season of this show on my couch when I really should have been working on my final projects for this semester? I don’t know, I think it has something to do with RuPaul, but this quote from the show spoken by John Kim, who plays the adorable thief, Ezekiel Jones (and my unexpected new bae)

may help us both understand, “You gotta be the one to help yourself. Do what you want when you want. Otherwise you’ll spend the rest of your life stuck with green Jell-O.” I nodded in complete agreement, even though I’ve never eaten Jello in my life. I don’t plan to either — the whole gelatin thing grosses me out. This fabulously cheesy and low rated cable gem is a spin off of the popular series of Librarian films, which are about a gentlemen who is magically summoned by the Metropolitan Library in New York City to go off on adventures around the world collecting magical artifacts before they can destroy humanity or some other terrible thing. It’s wonderfully old school cable. But for some reason, the entire concept is endearing. The series takes off on the same tangent, but stars an ensemble of librarians who deal with the same issues, but wrap it up within forty-five minutes. It will never win an Emmy for fabulous writing, but the heart of the show is so sweet that I cannot help but find myself falling in love with every episode. As I said, the Christmas special did things to my emotions…I have a great weakness for Christmas specials. I can’t even think about the Laverne & Shirley one. It haunts me. Do look up this show, reader, the first season is on Hulu.

Implanted Contact Surgery:

One of my greatest dreams is waking up with the ability to see. I want to be able to see the far wall with perfect clarity, to pick up my phone without grabbing around senselessly, to admire my sleeping cat’s pink nose without having to fumble for my glasses. I don’t remember a time when I could see without aid. It must have been a hundred years ago. My eyes got worse and worse and worse and I’m at the point now where I have as many glasses as I have shoes, which is saying something truly impressive. I don’t mind wearing glasses, but that dream of mine is something that I want to experience. I’m also absolutely terrified of finding myself in the middle of the Sahara with a broken pair of glasses. That’s a real and true concern of mine. It could easily happen in my life. I don’t want to be lost for the rest of eternity. Not that I would. Egypt is a modern country with optometrists, but it would still be incredibly inconvenient. So, I have long considered LASIK, but something holds me back. The idea of a laser resculpting my eye really concerns me. I don’t understand why, either, since it’s a totally noninvasive surgery now. I decided though that I have to get something done, so I’ll be getting a consultation soon. When I was researching the surgery, I stumbled gloriously on something I’d read about years ago and forgotten: implanted contacts. When I saw that it was available in Des Moines, I nearly wept. This, while a bit more expensive, is the surgery for me. Instead of using lasers, a contact lens is inserted under your iris! It sounds horrible, and the videos of the surgery can be gruesome, but the quality of vision is supposed to be superior. In addition, it’s a reversible surgery with minimal risk. I like the idea of a lens in my eye rather than a laser. I can’t wait to consult a doctor. In the meantime, I’m going to be watching videos of the operation while gasping, screaming, and counting down the second until I can undergo the same.

Finals Week:

Most students loathe finals, but finals fill me with absolute joy. It means I’m so close to being free! I don’t care for the lengthy papers that the professors barely read, and I am not a fan of the timed tests full of trick questions. But whatever, it’s all heading to the end. And I am a huge fan of the end of the semester. I am thrilled to be taking classes, I feel as if I am finally making some kind of progress in my life instead of coasting as a renaissance man, and that is a great comfort, even if I don’t enjoy the classes. This weekend I should be able to complete every single test and assignment due before the semester ends next Thursday. It will not be much of a weekend, but I’m going to spend every minute of it dedicated to getting that demon off my back. I will have so much time when I’m done! I will finally have time to watch a movie without feeling guilty or actually read a book. I might even have a moment to do some intense editing on my novel. I’ve only been spending about twenty minutes a day on it right now, which is fine for making a bit of progress, but it’s not enough time when I get on a roll. There’s a murderous mummy marauding, but I never have enough time to get that little narrative wrapped up. I will next week!

Chanel’s Paris in Rome 2015/2016 Métiers d’Art Show:

I love Chanel. Y’all know that. I’ve stalked Karl. I’ve infiltrated Rue Cambon. I only wear Pour Monsieur cologne. I religiously read every new Coco autobiography. Chanel is in my blood and soul. Most obsessions die out eventually, but Karl’s genius is so…genius…that I can’t help my fondness for the brand and its art. The shows are always a stunning event, but the most recent show in Rome absolutely blew me away. I was squealing with excitement when the set was revealed on Instagram. And then when I finally watched the runway show, I can’t explain to you how magical it was. Karl literally built Paris in a building in Rome.

It felt like you were really in Paris, as if real life was just going on around you. Only it was a more magical version of the real world, it was a movie version of Paris, which is never far from reality. The models emerged from a Métro. The audience sat at little cafés on streets that were actually damp with rain. And there is nothing better than Paris after it rains. I’m glad Karl feels the same way. There was a boulangerie! And there was one of those beautiful green fountains for drinking water that used be all over the city but can now be found only where preservation societies restored them. There was even a movie theater showing a film, Once and Forever, by Karl Lagerfeld. Clever man. Every inch of the clothing and the runway was genius and a triumph and bold and innovative. I’ve never loved Chanel more. And then Karl came out with his godson in hand and Baptiste behind and I died. Karl is just such an incredible inspiration to me. Watching this show was such a treat.

HATE:

“Inherent Vice”:

For this semester of my college courses, I decided to take something I thought would be a fun class that would be beneficial for my writing. I am passionate about detective fiction, as you know, and I want nothing more than to spend my retirement years as a modern Jessica Fletcher who also runs a cat retirement home and spends half the year in Paris. I wrote a mystery novel of my own, so I decided that taking a course on detective fiction would be good for me to shape my work. I was right. And of all the classes I took  over the past months, this has been the one that I actually enjoyed. I thought it was jolly good fun reading about murders on the Orient Express and about mob. I learned a lot about pacing and plot, but then we started reading modern detective fiction, and I lost my shit. Thankfully, I didn’t fully lose it until the last book, Inherent Vice. I have never screamed more at a book. I have honestly never hated a book more, and I’ve read Twilight. I would tell you what it’s about, but after a careful reading, I honestly don’t know. It was garbage. I said as much in my assignment relating to the book. If I don’t get a perfect grade on that, unlike everything else I’ve done in that class, I won’t be ashamed. I will be proud. Stay far away from this excuse for literature. Also, don’t watch the movie. Just avoid the whole thing. Save yourselves. Don’t end up like me, screaming at my Kindle and clutching a bowl full of popcorn. I was a mess.