Barb’s Burblings

An announcement: I have a new boyfriend. Let me introduce Toby Stephens:

He starred as Mr. Rochester in the recent production of Jane Eyre, which aired on PBS the past two weekends. And let me just say, Best Jane Eyre ever. Holy crap. Of course, I’m not sure how good an adaptation it was because my thoughts were mostly, “Wow, he’s hot.” Actually, I was pretty impressed with it, particularly how it handled the whole St. John Rivers section.
Plus, the kissing. Huzzah. There was loads of kissing, and Mr. Rochester and Jane were funny and smiley and I really, really liked it. The DVD cannot come out fast enough. He is the Mr. Darcy for this decade. (I still love you, Colin!)
Anyway, I immediately went and watched the latest version of The Great Gatsby, as Toby was Gatsby. The movie itself wasn’t that great, but it had Toby and Paul Rudd, whom I also love, so it was worth it. And it was watching that that I realized who else Toby reminds me of. Watching Jane Eyre last week, I saw that he looked a bit like my boyfriend Damian Lewis (Band of Brothers, The Forsyte Saga). The first time I saw him in Gatsby, it hit me that he also looks a bit like Hugh Jackman. Seriously, folks, there is no bad here.
Also, he’s the son of Dame Maggie Smith. And was Hamlet in a Royal Shakespeare Company production. The boy has chops.

After writing last night’s entry, I thought to myself, “OK, I’ll just go to bed now.” I was tired after working late Wednesday, so sleep appealed. Except that as I got ready for bed, I was flipping around on the tv and saw that Summer Stock was on. I can’t resist Gene Kelly. True, it’s not the greatest movie, but…Gene Kelly! So, naturally, I stayed up until midnight to watch it. Even though I had seen it before. Even though I potentially have it on tape somewhere.
Not that brightest of ideas. And now I have to go. An American in Paris is on.

Posting’s been sporadic of late, I know. And I can’t really say that it’s because I’ve been busy, because I haven’t. I mean, sure, I wound up working until 10 last night. (Fun!) (Only not.) And I have some freelance stuff that I should be doing (because it’s due tomorrow), but that obviously hasn’t taken up much of my time, as I haven’t done much with it yet. (It’s short, though. Luckily.) It’s more that I don’t know what to write. There are things on my mind, but this isn’t the place for them. So I could write about how Grey’s Anatomy has made me oddly emotional lately. Or about my plans to go to Florida in March and visit my cousin, who conveniently moved to Ft. Lauderdale, where the O’s have spring training. Or about how it’s insanely dry in my apartment, so the cats and I are all static clingy.
But yeah. None of that really appeals. So that’s where I am. Though I will take suggestions if anyone has any for songs to download from iTunes. I got a gift card for Christmas.

A bit late on the Ripken celebratory bandwagon, but there was this really good piece by a Chicago sportswriter about Cal. It emphasizes what’s special about Cal, and goes way beyond just his numbers. (Which, by the way, are amazing.)

In an era marked by spoiled, multimillionaire athletes, detachment from the average fan and, now, the scandal of steroid and drug use, Mr. Ripken was different.
When baseball needed a role model, when its fans wanted a ballplayer they could look up to, Cal Ripken Jr. stepped up to the plate and accepted the responsibility. And he continues to accept it through his work and his example. Baseball’s most resilient player has become one of its greatest ambassadors.

Warms the heart. I’m such a sap.

Moving into a new place is always an adventure. You never know the quirks of the new place, sometimes for months. For example, I moved into my current apartment in May but am obviously just now finding out how it does during the winter. And during the winter…it turns into a sauna. I have no control over my heat. (Fortunately, I don’t pay for my heat, so that’s not an issue.) And since the heat is set for the entire building…my place gets hot. And when it’s 70 degrees outside, it gets uncomfortably warm. My alarm clock tells me that it’s currently 82.6 degrees in here. I think that might be a bit high, but it’s warm.
Just open a window, you might think to yourself. Yes, that would be logical. Except that only one of my windows has a screen. That window has been open. But the others…I can’t risk the cats jumping out the window (well, Pem, really; I don’t think Colin would jump out the window).
Happily, though, today I came home to find a note on my door saying that they’d be coming to install screens. Hurrah! Seriously, it totally made my night. Sure, it’s happening now that the temperature outside is dropping, but I’m not complaining. Yay, screens!
Update: Success! A screen in my bedroom window! Of course, I was just sitting here and realized that I was a bit chilly (and no, the window isn’t open). It’s probably the breeze from the ceiling fan, but still. Hurrah for the freezing weather! Hurrah for screens!

My plans for today weren’t exactly exciting in nature, but I did have some plans–use my gift cards at Borders and PetSmart, exchange the CD/DVD tower I got at IKEA for the right color, do laundry, tutor. Thus far, I have…tutored. And laundry is totally in my plans for the evening. But I wound up spending the day reading, watching the Dirty Jobs marathon, and napping. And, quite frankly, it was lovely. I can do those other things at some other point.
And if you need to indulge your cuteness factor and for some reason don’t visit Cute Overload on a regular basis, you should at least check out this adorable entry with many very very cute pictures of moose. (And speaking of moose, my dad got me this great ornament for Christmas that’s a moose and it says “Merry Christmoose!” Awww.)
Um, and not that I ever read fanfic, but I was quite amused by Five Characters That Were Never the Slayer. The author totally gets down the characters’ voices.
Current song in my head:
“Love Will Come Through” by Travis

I had forgotten that today was the day the Baseball Hall of Fame would announce its 2007 inductees until I was flipping around the tv–I noticed that MASN was airing Cal Ripken’s last game. And tonight? They’re airing 2131. It’s a big day for Orioles fan. Cal Ripken IS the Orioles. He could possibly set a record for the highest percentage of votes–and he deserves it. I’ll probably have to skip watching the game tonight (well, after I get home from eating at 1789 for Restaurant Week, which I’m very excited about). Because 2131 makes me cry. Oh, Cal. Please buy the O’s. Now.

When my family moved from New Jersey to Connecticut, I developed insomnia. I couldn’t fall asleep until 2 or so. Which was kind of nuts; I mean, I was 9. And it was always worse on Sundays. Sunday nights have long been my least favorite time of the week.
So last night…I couldn’t fall asleep. Maybe it was because it was so frickin’ hot in my apartment. I have no control over the heat (but at least I don’t pay for it), and it’s been like a sauna in here–mostly because of the warm temperatures outside. Today it’s not so bad.
Where was I? Right. So I couldn’t fall asleep. I tossed and turned, and probably only got one good hour of sleep–the hour right before I had to get up for work. I considered not going into work, but since I had gotten a decent amount of sleep over the weekend, thought I’d give it a go.
And I made it through the day (barely). I came home and napped, then discovered that the envelope from my bank that came in the mail today was notice that I had overdrawn my account. Even though I haven’t. Nope, nobody has hacked into my account. I checked online. Where it noted that I hadn’t overdrawn my accout. So now I have to figure out when I can make it to the bank. Agh!
Add on to the tiredness and the bank issues, I’m working myself into a tizzy about numerous things that I can’t really control. It’s a Monday night and I’m cranky and I apologize for the rant, but I had to get it out (incoherent as it may be). Now I’m going to feed the cats and go to bed.

This was one of those lovely weekends that combined being productive with just having fun. I saw two movies and had a great time on Friday and Saturday, and today I’ve not only gotten a good chunk of my freelance work done, but I’ve also taken down all my Christmas stuff and put it away, AND I’m about to dust and vacuum. While flipping among The Wedding Planner, Band of Brothers, and The Stand. (And yes, I do own all of those. But there’s something so appealing when movies you like are on tv!) And am totally planning on watching that show tonight about the casting of Grease. I am sickly looking forward to it. I need help.

I’m not going to do that contemplative retrospective of 2006. Mostly because 2006 sucked in multiple ways and I’m still not entirely sure what to make of it.
So instead, let’s take a look at the ways that the 2006 baseball season proved that baseball is completely insane and unpredictable. And rejoice in the O’s signing of Aubrey Huff.