Creature Comforts

There's an adorable show on CBS called Creature Comforts. It uses stop-motion claymation and the voices are provided from interviews with real people. It's a UK import from the makers of Wallace and Gromit.


I watched an episode about beauty and appearance. People answered questions about how satisfied they were with their appearance, what their best feature was, what they would change about themselves, etc, but their answers caem through the mouths of bees, goats, ducks, giraffes, cats, owls and dogs.

I laughed out loud within the first few minutes.

The episode featured:

An anteater talking about how she loves her nose.


A street dog saying he wishes hair didn't grow under his armpits.


A weasel musing about how he wants to understand quantum physics.


A donkey saying, "I could use one of those Jay Leno jaws. I mean, I feel like I need a jaw" and then making a crazy jaw-sticking out face.

The funniest parts ocur when one animal is talking and the other is reacting to what they hear their friend saying: An owl is asked what she likes best about her partner and she says, "His eyes." As she continues to talk about his appearance and hers, he crosses his eyes and makes faces.

Simple but charming.

I LoVermont

I needed a vacation!

Vermont's slow pace felt good. No TV, Internet or phone; just friends, food and whiffleball.

VICTORY!!

"In Massachusetts today, the freedom to marry is secure," said Gov. Deval Patrick.

Amy Hempel

I found her the way I wish I could find more writers:
I read the recent Chuck Palahnuik book Rant: An Oral Biography. (I enjoyed it more than his last few works of fiction.) Rant made me remember how much I enjoyed Chuck's early books: Survivor, Fight Club, and Choke.

I looked Chuck up online. I found a website that listed his favorite books and favorite writers. Every author should have these lists available to their fans. His list of favorite writers included Bret Easton Ellis, who I've read. I tried one of the titles on his list of favorite books, but the novel didn't take with me.

Then I got an Amy Hempel short story collection from the library. It wasn't even the one he recommended most, but it was inspiring. And I usually don't go for short stories.

I can see where Chuck got his flare for unusual events and bizarre descriptions. He took her style and made it more grotesque, and her stories are already disturbing.

Here is an example of Amy's weird detail style: "It was the year I started saying vahz instead of vase..."

Ear Freckles

I was almost to my stop last week. The train had emptied out enough that I wasn't hip to hip with the person beside me. A man older than my dad walked past me down the aisle and then suddenly his head was back, and it was right next to my face.

"Do you know you have several freckles on the back of your ear?"

In my head, I was all, "Ummm... huh.... whaaa..." but I said, "Yes."

"They appear to be pre-cancerous sun-exposure freckles," he said. "People always forget to put sunscreen on their earlobes. You should have them looked at."

"I have," I said, lying.

How did he even see the back of my ear lobe when he'd been walking towards me? Creepy. I guess the freckles, which I was in fact aware of, are that noticeable.

I like my ear freckles because they are weird. I am not a freckled person. I have a few teeny ones on my arms, one on my knee. Three itsy bitsy faint ones like Orion's belt on my chest. That's about it. But my left ear lobe is almost covered by four large freckles.

"Good," he said, relieved that I was on top of my potential for melanoma. He said, "Keep an eye on them."

"Okay," I said, feeling very invaded.

What is with people? I would never interrogate a stranger about their ear freckles. Although I want to warn this one woman about the damage she's doing to her ears by listening to her iPod so loud that I can hear it from three seats up. But the sound of her music is invasive to me, which sort of opens an invitation to make a comment whereas ear freckles are minding their own business and hidden.

Was he someone who has lost a loved one to skin cancer and is now trying to save others, or was he just a dermatologist trying to drum up business?

Crossword Puzzle Guys

Seven of the last nine commuter mornings, I've boarded the train and sat on the bench seat along the wall, just inside the door. Each morning, I take a seat between two 30-something men in suits. They bookend me, usually doing crossword puzzles from The Metro or clacking keys on their laptops, and I imagine I'm a queen flanked by 9-5 guardians.

The one on my left is balding and has a goatee. The one of my right is good-looking in a generic way. Good-looking enough to be entertainment when I'm bored of reading.

These two men are either friends, or they work together. This morning, the one on my left wordlessly handed The Metro across me so the one on my right could look at it. Right-side guy reviewed left-side guy's work for a minute, then handed it back. All without words.

One day last week, right-side guy was working on his laptop and leaned across me (sigh) to show left-side guy an email he'd drafted. "Does this sound okay?" right-side guy asked. Left-side reviewed, nodded and went back to his crossword.

I can't tell exactly what they are to each other because they never have conversation. And, you'd think that since they are obviously somehow linked, they might scoot over to sit next to each other rather than letting me take the empty space between them.

I paid attention this morning: when they leave the train, they do not wait for each other, they do not speak and they seem to go their separate ways. Are they just train-friends? Have they occupied these seats long enough that they are comfortable asking each other for work and crossword advice?