The blog is back. Also: Jon Hamm.

Well, friends, it’s been a solid month since my last post. (That rings a little “confession booth” to me. Appropriate, as I do feel a tinge of Catholic-ish writerly guilt re: my blog neglect…) I just checked my stats for the past few weeks, and I was happy to discover that I’ve had some views on these non-post days. More than the usual handful that can be attributed to spam, my mom and/or my stalker.

(If I have a stalker, I like to imagine that s/he reads my blog. B’cause, why wouldn’t s/he?! That’s what stalkers do! This makes me feel safe, you see, because anyone out there who reads my blog regularly is waaaaay too nerdy to ever attempt physical harm. Maybe a passive-aggressive comment, at worst. I love you, readers, but you’re nerdy. It’s cool.)

Anyway — the writing wasteland that was October brought me more than a few views. This does my little heart good, because it means (I hope) that a few people actually want to read this stuff (and to you I say: sorry I’ve left you hanging). Beyond that, I’m fascinated in knowing that total strangers occasionally end up here because of random google searches. This month, a post about Charles Addams cartoons was particularly popular in my search terms list — Halloween and all.

One year ago exactly, my bloggy friends & I embarked on our semi-daily journey of Alpha-blogging, and “A is for Addams” is where mine began. Now, a full year later, it’s nice to imagine there are kindred spirits out there who also love vintage New Yorker cartoons, or mid-century art, or Halloween…and love these things enough to google them. These are my people.

So it is for you, My People, that I’m back tonight. After a long day. With nothing profound to say. Just knowing that I like this blogging thing when I take the time to do it. Also knowing that it does me no good to wait around for inspiration. Sometimes I have to meet inspiration halfway. Sometimes I have to just sit down and write when I don’t feel like it. Sometimes I have to do the random google search and follow where it leads…

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Confession-booth time again: every once in a while, when I’m feeling bored or blue, I do a little “Jon Hamm” google image search. Just because. Ladies, I suggest you do the same. Looking at his cartoon-pilot handsomeness (Liz Lemon said it best), I never fail to have a little Lester Burnham moment: with this much beauty in the world, there’s just no reason be sad.

So please keep coming back: readers, random searchers, stalkers, or Mom. I can’t promise you regularly scheduled posts or coherent points, but I can promise to always, always remind you that the good things are out there…like Jon Hamm…just being The Perfect Man…giving us all the little thumbs-up we need to keep going.

Ham & Bubbly

This SNL clip was recommended to me this weekend, and it is fully the delight I’d hoped for. Jon Hamm. Michael Buble. Singing. Puns. Comedic drama. Suits. Jon Hamm. (worth repeating.) Most adorable sketch ever.

[sorry for the wonky version…Wordpress, it seems, doesn’t like Hulu or NBC videos. So this lone pirated version on YouTube is what we’ve got. The adorableness still translates, I hope.]

No Strings

Spent this Sunday night cleaning my house with Sex & the City movie in the background, exercising two very therapeutic practices for me: chick flicks and frenzied organization.

I had a movie-filled weekend. Haven’t had one of those in a while, and it felt great, y’all! Two with friends, two by myself, as follows:
  The Big Sleep @ moxie (Bogart! Bacall! Black & white!)
  I AM @ moxie (see this. see it. go see it. go.)
  Bridesmaids @ hollywood (more to come…)
  Sex & The City @ home. (That’s happening now. You’re caught up.)

All these movie films leave me with relationships on the brain (this and every day), and I started thinking about the phrase “no strings attached” in particular as I folded some laundry. (No, I haven’t seen the Ashton Kutcher movie yet. Yes, I love that N*SYNC song.)

So Bridesmaids. I laughed. I cried. I solidified a long-growing obsession with Kristen Wiig (homegirl WROTE the movie, you guys! she wrote it!).
I’m DTR-ing my comedy girl-crush: I love her.

The only ham I'd still allow on my sandwich...WHAT?!?

She has this horrifyingly hilarious “relationship” with Jon Hamm in which he treats her like shit in return for sex on his schedule. It’s hilarious because of the way it’s presented, but it’s horrifying because it represents an icky truth: sometimes we let ourselves get away with a lot less than what we deserve. (Guys, girls, whatever. Neither side’s entirely to blame.) I blame “no strings attached” and the pervasive assumption that it’s possible and acceptable to eat your cake but not have your cake, to corrupt the cliché.

Why do we (you know, the nonspecific, culture-encompassing “we”) celebrate the lack of strings like it’s such a good thing? Strings aren’t so bad, right?
They keep our shoes on.
They let us play guitar.
They’re an essential kite ingredient.
They’ve done some innovative things for cheese.

Maybe relationship strings don’t have to tie you down. Maybe you’re a kite and they help you fly.

What do you think, readers? And/or did you see any good movies this weekend? Yeah, let’s talk about that instead. Sheesh…