When that happens, it is genuine. I actually think the comment deserves that length of Hahahas. For awhile I had a hierarchy system, the more hahas the bigger the laugh. The more random letters that fell into the mix, the more funny. A Ha! still counts for something. But it's just a quick burst that denotes funniness, cleverness, irony, or me not really knowing how to respond.
But I have a new marker of the gold standard of comedy and it is this:
In other news, here is what I made, ate and watched in the past few weeks.
Italian Pot Pie: I totally loved this mix of Indian flavors sandwiched between heaping globs of puff pastry. The crust is a way better swab for the gooey innards than any other crust I've used in a potpie.
Chocolate Mint Surprise Cupcakes: This has become the new annual Birthday cupcake. I made them last year, too, though last year's batch was a debacle and this year's batch was seamless. I even bought a piping bag (though I'm not sure how to clean it). Close your eyes and imagine this: Super chocolate frosting, vanilla cake, you bite into it and POW! A HUGE DOLLOP OF MINT INSIDE! Plus I won a cake plate at a Christmas party so the whole thing was displayed on a glass pedestal.
Chickpea, Chard and Soy Sausage Soup: I think I've made this soup before. It's hard to tell when you find yourself regularly dumping chickpeas, greens and fake meat into a broth. Shrug. It's always good.
Heathers: Somehow I made it to age 36 without seeing this movie in its entirety, which is a little like saying "Wham, who?" Of course it fell under that circus-tent sized umbrella of Things I Was Not Allowed To Watch when it was released in the late-1980s, which I'm sure really rankled my scrunchies at the time.
Let me tell you, though. This is exactly what elementary school looked like to me. We had a similar hierarchy system, popularity that hinged on the whims of girls born with sisters who were so cool. In this scenario I would have been Winona Ryder, though it never occurred to me to poison anyone with blue drink. And luckily we all lived through it and rarely played croquet.
I can't remember the effect of the movie at the time of its release, but in 2011 it screams of Diablo Cody more than even "Juno" screams of Diablo Cody.
Page One: Inside The New York Times This documentary about the changing face of journalism, centered around the New York Times, is fantastic. And as soon as David Carr is introduced, he steals the show and it becomes more interesting to watch him both beat the shit out of sources and hold younger reporters to his teat. I'd like to see a "Bill Cunningham New York" about David Carr. It might be time to reread "Night of the Gun." I'm going to start asking myself every morning: WWDCD.
Young Adult: I really, really loved Diablo Cody's new dark-dark, super-dark comedy-ish time capsule. This one stars a super drunk writer of young adult fiction who goes back to her small hometown, one that has become unrecognizable under the neon din of chain restaurants, and tries to win back her high school boyfriend. I cackled like a maniac through the whole thing. And the soundtrack kicks ass. I haven't thought about the song "The Concept" by Teenage Fanclub since 1995-ish.
The Tree Of Life: Uh ... There were like 20 not boring minutes of this one. I had to recuperate with a hearty dose of Kardashian afterward. But I'm willing to hear why it was great.
Life Unexpected: The Complete First and Second Seasons So this is classic CW in it's fantastic hair, acoustic guitar backdrops and Pottery Barn-meets-Urban Outfitters-ness. It is the ridiculously hokey story of a 15-year-old girl who has grown up in foster homes and seeks out her birth parents, the super awesome 32 year old bar owner in flannels and ironic Ts and the radio show host neurotic woman. Regardless, I can't stop watching it and then grabbing songs to make super cheesy Spotify playlists that I hide from the public.
The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern: You want magic, I’ll give you some magic: You spend a week reading a super-magical book with a magical premise, filled with mysterious circumstances, characters in whooshing formal-ware, secret spells and magic rooms and midnight dinner parties complete with a contortionist. You love it, seep into it, can see every magical illusion, every magical backdrop.
Then, when it’s over, you can’t remember what was so big about it. There must be a word for why “The Night Circus” by Erin Morgenstern went from a four point five-ish read to a three-ish post-read. Must be some sort of slight-of-brain.
But while you’re reading, whoa. It’s a lovely way to spend a few days.
Full review will be here.