Amber & As Good As You Remembered

I used to love Northern Exposure.

I used to watch it every week and delight in the exploits of the big city doctor who finds himself in a quirky (but charming) small Alaskan town.  When I visited Talkeetna, I took pleasure in knowing that knowing it was the real life location inspiration for the show.  And, I even got the cookbook!

Now, I've watched the show recently and it does not stand the test of time.  The doctor is a trite caricature of a New York Jew ("oy!"  "bagels!"  "moose!"), the "natives" are an embarrassing mystical wise yet simple people and... it's just not that funny.

But, that cookbook still stands the test of time in the form of a baked burrito recipe.  I don't have the cookbook anymore (I think Ed was the character to whom it was attributed?), and I've made the recipe so many times I don't actually refer to it anymore.  And, I think the original called for some kind of chicken or beef, but I used ground turkey.  And I added spinach.  And I forgot the cilantro.  So, really, maybe I'm not making the exact recipe.

But boy are they delicious all the same.  So much more enjoyable than the show.  And longer lasting.

Amber & Best Double-Whammy Guest Stars Ever

First, Jessica Walter makes a cameo in my episode of Columbo.

Then, Robbie the Robot.

Amber & Just One More Thing...

Oh my goodness, I love Columbo.

I have been watching episodes from Netflix which aired on the Mystery Hour from the early 1970s and they are fantastic.  Unlike most modern mystery programs, the first 20 minutes show the murder so we, the audience, know the identity of the murderer and therefore more than Columbo.  We then get the pleasure of watching him slowly, slowly, and persistently circle in on the answers, picking up clues and putting them in the pockets of his rumpled trench coat.  He is the anti-Poirot: thinking aloud, imprecise, and clean-shaven.  And yet somehow, in the midst of his sloppiness and annoying questioning and self-depreciating asides, he brings calm and justice.

Peter Falk is fabulous.  His Columbo is an enigma.  Just how goofy is he really?  Is his tangential babbling all a rouse to disarm the crooks?  Or is he simultaneously bumbling and genius?  Whichever he is, he is likable.  The anecdotes about his wife ("My wife says I am the second best [detective].  She says there are 80 guys tied for first place.") round his person.  The episodes are filled with little human moments like when our hero blushes when kissed by a hooker played by Valerie Harper.  (I guess we know what happens in season 3 of Rhoda after her marriage to Joe dissolves.)  (I never liked that Joe or his temper.)

And the guest stars!  John Cassavetes (who directed Falk in some fantastic roles), Leonard Nimoy, Julie Newmar, Eddie Albert, Roddy McDowall (whose Lord Love a Duck is also on Netflix streaming), Anne Baxter and Edith Head (playing herself and choosing a new tie for the detective).

Dare I say it?  I may enjoy Columbo more than either Castle or Bones.

God bless, Peter Falk.  My favorite angel-seer über Berlin.





Who better to explain the simple joys of being alive?  Compañero.

Amber & Fleeting Glimpse

I was watching this because Castle only lasts about 44 minutes and, as I have professed, I love Jimmy Fallon's singing skits.

And then lo!

I swear to you, in the looped footage at the beginning, Kevin rides by on his bike.

Come on! That is Kevin!  I am like 99.8% positive.

See?

Now, he's gotten a new helmet.  And he's wearing khakis in the video.  And I think either that blue pullover or maybe even his puff coat?

But that is so totally him!

Amber & Tabula Rasa

Remember those days?



I do.  And I remember this song.



Although I like to think of it as being about Tara and Willow rather than Michelle Branch and either her goldfish (?) or her hobo friends (?).

Amber & Is It Wrong?

Is it wrong that when I discover a new Castle on Hulu, I clear my schedule for the evening (even if the things on my schedule were unloading the dishwasher and sewing an obi belt), pour myself a tall glass of Chardonnay, put on some lip gloss and snuggle in on the couch?



And, even if he is sort of developing a strange width to him, Nathan Fillion, you really are ruggedly handsome.  There is more of you to love.

See you tomorrow, world.

Or, really, in 43 minutes.

Amber & Dead On

I like this better than the original, maybe.



Sadly, I am not a monster.

Amber & Oh, My Queen

Thanks to the tornado (which I witnessed outside while picking up farm share and running a fever of 102), I had no Internet yesterday.  Time Warner's lady robot who answered their phone when I called yesterday from my sick bed, desperate for amusements, described it as a "storm-related outage" and assured me that the technicians knew how important my cable was to me and were trying to restore my service.  (She also didn't understand my responses when I said "yes, please."  Robots do not appreciate courtesy.)

But, it came back in the middle of the night with a vengeance, in the form of a dedicated foe of evil, defender of the weak, champion of truth and justice.

I loved Isis.  I remember very little about the show, except that it was on at the end of Saturday cartoons and that she would invoke various Egyptian gods to give her powers.  I would get the TV listings from the paper and then highlight the shows I wanted to watch so I would know to change the channel when needed at the right time.  And, I always changed to channel 3 for Isis.  I seem to remember some episode about an archeological dig?  Or maybe that was just the backstory in the opening credits?  I remember, though, that I loved it.  And so it must be good, right?

After all, she's a snappy dresser and a part of my heritage.  And she predates this other part of my heritage by about ten years.

I wonder if she will scare Nick, Diana, and Kevin as much as that younger heritage.

Amber & Sooo Much To Do Today

Woody seems okay, mostly. His breathing may be a little more effortful than usual, or maybe not. He is sleeping alot, but not more than Pickles. And, he is warm on my lap while we watch competitive cooking shows. That's good, right?

Amber & Birthday Boys

Happy Birthday to Nick!

Nick has so many great qualities.  He is a fantastic watching programs companion, he is good with kitties (being one of the only three of Pickles's people friends) even when it means selflessly giving up his own pillow for old guys.  Nick is creative, kind, and forgiving when you eat all the sorbet he brought back from Fretta's without him.  He is also extremely brave when it comes to throwing out weird food in the fridge-- he even sometimes postpones doing it so that it is even more challenging.  He also has great taste in eye glasses and has some of the nicest hair I have ever seen.  Also, he is a great director for my interpretive dance.  He is incredibly supportive of all of my talents like that.  Even my newfound belly dance obsession.  Also, he is good at gently warning you if you are about to eat too much salami.

Nick wears a number of professional caps.  His main job is as a trainer for telephone operators.

In this photo, taken by the very talented James, Nick is showing an operator how to plug in the telephone.  You will note his work uniform matches the phones.  He is good at matching.  That is another admirable quality.  He has great socks.

Happy Birthday, Nick!  I am glad you were born.

Amber & Doozers

Thanks to Erl for reminding me how much I love Doozers.



Also, I kind of think my dad looks like one.

With antennae and a yellow hard hat?  And he loves building stuff.

Amber & The Bloody Truth

Everywhere I go lately, I see those bus ads for True Blood, the HBO series about vampires which are based on the popular series of books but are not that other popular vampire movie/book franchise.

I've never seen the show.  But I did really, really like that other show about vampires.  (Little known fact: Awesome Club originally was Buffy Club.  Hence the Tuesday night schedule.)  So, I asked James if he thought I would like it, and he said yes.

But I was still sort of skeptical, although I couldn't tell you why.  Maybe the ads are just too lush?  Maybe it's the challenge for me of watching any HBO shows?  Maybe it's that I missed the first two seasons and would have to catch up fast?

But then Kirk, hot off his successful recommendation of Frisky Dingo and therefore an expert on what makes good TV, pointed me to this video by Snoop Dogg, a tribute to one of the characters on the show.  It is so over-the-top, I can't even bring myself to embed it.

Suffice it to say that it is more Snoop than Snoop ever was, a real simulacrum of Snoopdom.  I have no idea how to take it.  Does he know she's not a real person?  And?  "Yellow cars ain't fly, So hop in my jet."  For real?

I say no thank you to the whole endeavor.  Until I watch all the new Psychs and there is nothing else to do.

Oh, Snoop.

Amber & No Way To Know

Poor Pickles.

He can't do anything without me watching him like a neurotic mother hawk.  He seems to be better-- at least he is using the litter box less frequently and depositing bigger clumps.  But, he also seems to be sleeping alot, but he is a cat and that is what they do.  Is he sleeping more than his siblings?  Maybe.  He doesn't seem to be eating very much, but that could be an upset tummy from the meds or maybe because he had to give up his favorite dry bunny food.  Maybe?

He mews alot.  But he did that before, didn't he?  And he is laying under the bed and behind the desk alot, but maybe that's because it's so hot?  And he is playing with fleece wand, and he does come out for treats.  Is he better than he was over the weekend?  Yes, definitely.  Is he completely well?

This clip from the much-beloved Betty White episode of SNL really sums it up for me.



There's really no way of knowing.

He could just be a homeless guy in a fur coat.

Amber & Epic Stories

Some days, I miss Veronica Mars.



Maybe there's just not enough sassy girl detective in my life these days.  Kate Beckett comes close, but her hair isn't nearly as flippy.

Or, maybe I miss teen romances that span years and continents--lives ruined, bloodshed-- and summer break.  They don't write songs about the ones that come easy.

P.S. I snost and lost, too.

Amber & Great Explanations

I recently (as in, last night) finished watching a really wonderful adaptation of Pride and Prejudice (sans zombies) from the BBC in 1980.

(Costume dramas from the BBC are the perfect things for weekends with horrible headaches.  Except, often, Mrs. Bennet's voice is not helpful. But regency bustlines sure are.)

While watching, I had an epiphany suitable for a freshman class of 2014 English thesis: Mr. Darcy has Asperger's.  No seriously.  Watch him in this clip.



Take that for a modern updating, zombies.  It really explains his behavior entirely.

Amber & Catching Up

While I have been waging an inner battle, armed with mucous and coughs, against my arch allergy nemesis American Elm, so, so very much has been happening in the world.  Let me quickly try to recap.

1.  I got this pretty scarf from my favorite broken body person, Nick.

2.  And my hair color changed.  (See above.  It's darker.  One might even call it espresso.)

3.  Some incredibly smart and adorable marketing professionals over at everybody's favorite investigative news source, Mother Jones, launched a fundraising campaign featuring a Boat-o-meter to measure the campaign's success with the tagline "Sink the ship of fools."

Seriously genius--the kind of stuff we should be doing over at Mother Goose, Inc.  (I pronounce it "boat-oh-meter," but Kevin says "boat-om-etter."  Your choice.)

4.  The above fundraising campaign, to which you should give generously in order to help pay for, among other things, their Circulation Director's cat food (especially if you are getting a free sub from me) prompted me to remark that I wouldn't really be considered the captain of the Boat-o-meter but more of the navigator.  This caused a professional colleague to volunteer to be the ship's barkeep.

Completely amazing likeness, right?  Mobile technology is the absolute best.  I would say some boat stuff here, but really I confuse sailors with pirates all the time.  Arrgh!  That ship is yar!

5.  This caused me to hum the theme to my favorite Boat Show ever.

Did you see those guest stars?  Robert Vaughn and that hot reporter's mom?

6.  Lizzie, the best back seat road trip and tent companion ever, started a blog about her new macrobiotic diet.

Today's post is about allergies and diet and acupressure... which brings us back to the whole reason why I had all this saved up stuff to share with you, dear readers.

Damn you, American Elm.  Damn you and your seed, but thank you for your beauty and grandeur.

Amber & Le French

You may not know, but Coffee, my on-again-off-again lover, and I broke up again.  I'm totally head over heals for the bean, but we're just not a good fit.  It's not you, Coffee; it's me.  And my shaking hands and acid reflux.

And, I totally recognize that I am on the rebound.  I went back to my old flame, Red Lipstick.  Although I know in the past Lipstick has treated me wrong, it claims to have reformed.  And, I believe it--although I recognize that I may just be taken in by its obvious charms.  Only time will tell.  And my Scramble 2 scores.

When we're going out together, I feel like I can be myself--more monochromatic--just because lipstick is with me.  (That makes Purple my BFF, the third wheel, who will be waiting for me patiently and comfortingly when Lipstick and I are on the rocks again.)  So, today's outfit revolved around a black and white striped t-shirt.  And that made me think of France, and then I had to know why.  So I Googled.  And lo!  It's because of their naval uniforms.

And that made me think of all of the other great things the French have given us.  Herewith, a list of my top five favorite French things.

1.  Striped shirts.

(Even better with red lipstick, which is not French.)

2.  Mayonnaise.  Great with fries, burgers, Sapporo rolls, and turkey sandwiches.  Really, great with just about everything.

3.  Casablanca.  Without Paris, what would we always have?

4.  Jacques Lacan.  Because without the Symbolic Order, I wouldn't have a BFA.  And if I hadn't gotten that degree, I wouldn't have met James or Kevin, and CRD and I wouldn't have half the jokes we have now.  And I wouldn't have really utilized these over-active mirror neurons.

5.  That really great episode of Murder She Wrote where Jessica is in France.

Merci beaucoup, les grenouilles.

Amber & Ducks Mate for Life

If nothing else, I am consistent in my adorations.  See for example, pickles.  (Not Pickles.  About him I can be very fickle especially when he puts the fleece wand on my face at 4 am and then sits on my chest and mews.)  This especially true of my crushes, which I hold onto like Eva Marie Saint clinging to Cary Grant and the eyeball on Mt. Everest (thanks to Steve, who knows the difference between Mt. Rushmore and Mt. Everest).

Speaking of Cary Grant, I am incredibly loyal to my actor crushes. Once I love you on-screen, you can do just about anything, take any bad role, grow old, change your hair and guest star on NCIS, and I will continue to love you diegetically, aesthetically, and dreamily.  Only maybe I will blog about you a little less.  Take, for example, Johnny Depp.

Sigh.  If you've known me for any length of time (or ever had tequila with me), it's likely you know the root story of my love for Johnny.  If you haven't been that lucky (or were just Googling "puff coats"):  In 1987, I watched the premiere of 21 Jump Street, and started to sob--not because the show's tackling of trouble youth was especially effecting, but because Johnny was so damn pretty.  And, I knew I could never have him.  Ah, desire. First it's red, and then it's blue. And everytime I see an iceberg, Johnny, it reminds me of you.

I've seen everything Johnny has made, even Sweeney Todd, even though "seen" there really means squinted at out of one corner of my eye while the window on my laptop was only about two inches wide.  (I don't like scary movies.)  You can make that third lousy pirate film, Johnny, and I will go see it--in the theater!  And I will like it because you are pretty in a white flouncy shirt with bad teeth.  So take that.

The latest test of my love is the Alice in Wonderland posters in the subway.

Now, I love Alice in Wonderland.  (It even inspired my first born laptop name.)  And I love fake eyelashes. And I totally am all about dyed red hair, and hats, and tea, and madness.  But that poster just scares me!  And, I don't think it's a coincidence that I dreamt that I had a weird gap between my teeth last night.  I even tried to avoid the poster by taking a different entrance to the A after Awesome Club, but then I had to sit across from one on the train for 161 blocks!

But, Johnny, I will go see your latest endeavor in the theater, even if it proves to be your scariest role yet.  Because, Johnny, I would pay to watch you breathe.  And my love is nothing if not eternal and hopeless.

Amber & Starring Surprise Guests

This is my week for stars surprising me by guesting on my regularly scheduled programs.

First, there was my suave sweetheart Robert Wagner on NCIS, proving that fate doesn't punish you for killing Natalie Wood by taking away your hair.

Then, there was my BFF Scramble2 For Free by Zynga on 30 Rock.

And, tonight, I discovered my Empire Records and (much underrated Dick Wolf revamp of) Dragnet fave, Ethan Embry, on my much beloved House.

Despite the fifteen years that have passed since Empire Records, Ethan is still adorable, even when playing a culottes salesman.  But he seems to have less and less hair as time goes by in a hair cut kind of way.

Maybe there's some inverse relationship between notoriety and plushness of hair?  Maybe hair can get in the way of being taken seriously as an actor?  Maybe as he ages his hair just doesn't grow as long?

I sure don't take Robert Wagner very seriously with all that lushness on his head, but if Ethan's hair continues to shrink, I'll be scared when he makes his 80-year-old appearance on whatever procedural detective show I am having downloaded into my brain 2058.

Amber & Liz Lemon = Me

Really?  Really?



FYI: I'm on Scramble level 96 on my iPhone.