Author: Jeff Tabaco

The other day I took an online quiz to determine my ideal Lord of the Rings mate. It’s Sam. I believe it all hinged on the question of occupation: “What does he do?” Answer: “Frodo.”

Ha. I can’t wait to see the new movie. I’m determined to finish the book first, and I’m about a third of the way through.

Speaking of movies, yesterday I saw Birthday Girl, an underpromoted (for good reason) film starring Nicole Kidman and Ben Chaplin. I read some of the reviews just now–I wish I had read them before seeing the movie, and saved myself some trouble–and Roger Ebert sums it up:

There is a curious problem with Birthday Girl, hard to put your finger on: The movie is kind of sour. It wants to be funny and a little nasty, it wants to surprise us and then console us, but what it mostly does is make us restless.

Right. And I would add this: the burden of an “opposites attract” love story is to convince the audience that the ostensibly mismatched lovers actually should get together. If it doesn’t succeed in that, it loses the audience. You’d rather they not bother with the whole sordid business. Here, not until the very last moment of the film did I care if Kidman and Chaplin’s characters finally hooked up. And that, my friends, is too late. (Notwithstanding, admiring the handsome Ben Chaplin is somewhat of a consolation.)

Have I lost the will to shop? Perhaps, at least for clothing. I feel something approaching guilt (especially in this season when we are reminded to share with the less fortunate) in saying that I have too many clothes. It’s true. My closet runneth over. One of these days I need to head over to the clothing drive and donate a pile of stuff.

My shopping strategy for the past couple of years has been to create a wardrobe consisting of a few basic items, but in multiple colors. (I think some part of me wants to recreate a kind of satellite Banana Republic in my apartment, down to the furniture and matching wooden hangers.) So have I finally reached, dare I say exceeded, that wardrobe nirvana? That tipping point of zen-like sartorial contentment? Maybe. I own more than a manageable number of jackets, sweaters, shirts, and pants all in a palette of personally suitable colors. I found myself at the mall yesterday, thinking, do I really need anything else?

Oh wait. Yes, a pair of dark brown oxfords. There’s always something. But in any case, I definitely need to prune my wardrobe, if only to clean up my apartment. If only to make room for more clothes.

These days my shopping habits have shifted toward all things domestic, which explains my recently intensified obsession with Ikea, Pottery Barn, and their ilk. Anything to organize my place, and make it more liveable. To wit, I’m still excited over the gleaming new Calphalon saucepan and skillet I bought a few weeks ago. I admit, it may seem a little boring (unböring?), but it’s wonderful when a small bit of happiness is found in nothing more than a plush rug or a sturdy bookshelf.

Did we all watch The Sound of Music for the umpteenth time last night? I surprised myself at how much of the script I’ve memorized over the years. Definitely a must-buy for the ol’ DVD collection.

I’ve been on a cleaning rampage in my old room, going through boxes and boxes of old stuff that I haven’t brought myself to throw away, like papers I wrote for high-school English. The overwrought, Rushmore-like titles I devised for these two-page trifles are pretty amusing. Here are some gems from the 1992-93 sophomore year: “Internal Foes: The Enemy in Knowles’ A Separate Peace and the Beast in Golding’s Lord of the Flies,” “The Monster Begot upon Itself: Othello and Iago as Victims of Jealousy in Shakespeare’s Othello,” and “Do I Dare?: Insecurity as Motif in Eliot’s The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock.” As you can tell, I was really into subtitles. I suppose if I were really motivated, I could go back to a few of these and develop them into full-fledged essays. Or what’s more likely is I could just throw them back into the box for another rainy day read.

I also came across an Out magazine cover which I’d saved. It’s the January 1999 “Out 100” issue with Rufus on the cover, looking wild and dapper in his earflap hat. I thought the cover had been lost and gone forever, so I’m pleased as punch I found it. When I get back to D.C., I’ll have to remember to get it matted and framed.

My parents and I rented a handful of movies the other day. So far we’ve seen The Sweetest Thing and Kate & Leopold. Despite my initial misgivings, both were actually pretty entertaining, and not as cheesy as the trailers let on. Hugh Jackman, yum.

Yesterday we braved the stormy weather and had dinner at Max’s Opera Cafe in Burlingame (other locations abound in the Bay Area). If you haven’t been to a Max’s: the waiters sing periodically, mostly showtunes, and it makes for a pleasant dining experience. Minutes after our waitress served our main course, we found her onstage delivering a lovely rendition of “Memory” from Cats. I admit it’s a bit strange to make server-like requests of someone who’s just given a heartfelt musical performance: “Can I get another diet Coke, oh, and by the way, great job on the song!” In any case, I haven’t eaten so much food in a long while. It was all fabulous. As their motto states, “This is a bad place for a diet.”

Again, good things come to those who procrastinate. Today we browsed through the stores along Burlingame Avenue in yes, Burlingame–a posh little street that I’d never been to before–and my search for a corduroy jacket finally came to an end. I went into Gap and saw that the price on the jacket I’d been eyeing all season (and basically gave up on, since it’s no longer available at gap.com, thank you very much) had dropped all the way to $29.99 (originally $88). I finally bought the thing, and am quite happy with it. Go me.

I’ve been listening to a rebroadcast of David Sedaris’ Christmas special on This American Life. Hilarious.

As you can see, I’ve spent some of my Christmas vacation redesigning my website. I was going to wait until the new year to unveil the changes, but ah well, I couldn’t wait. C’est-à-dire, the virtual snowflakes were finally driving me insane. At first I was going to go for a golden-age travel theme (postcards, fountain pens, etc.), but when I went to the Griffin and Sabine books for inspiration, I came across a postcard called “Fools Mate,” which is very dark and intriguing (as is most of Nick Bantock’s artwork), and it ended up taking the design in a different direction. Sort of gothly regal. And the fact that I’m reading The Lord of the Rings probably influenced me too.

What do you think? I mean, heck. You guys have to look at this darn thing everyday. (Or at least I hope you do.) And do let me know if your particular web browser isn’t displaying everything properly. I’m finally using more CSS–why, back in my day, you had to dig into the HTML and make each style change on each individual webpage–but this seems a little too easy. I’m sort of a web geezer–yes, at the tender age of 25–because after I first learned HTML in college, I never really kept up with trends in more powerful, elegant coding. Ah well, baby steps.

Speaking of makeovers, this time in the realm of home improvement, on Christmas Day I watched a nice chunk of episodes of Trading Spaces. Would they please come do my apartment? Okay, so maybe I don’t meet some of their criteria (e.g., equally game neighbors), but I have practically no storage space. I need Ty to come over and work his power-tool magic.

Oh, stop. Like you weren’t thinking the same thing.

December 24th, 10 p.m. Eastern Standard Time
I can’t believe a year went by so fast
Time to see what we have time to see

— from “Finale,” Rent

DALY CITY, CALIF. — After spending most of today traveling with neither incident nor discernable delay, I arrived in the Bay Area earlier this evening, and am looking forward to a week of rest and relaxation. (And while we’re on Rs, perhaps some reading and reflection, as well.) My parents and I had a hearty dinner here at home, which is sparkling with lights and decorations, and right now I’m listening to classical Christmas music on the radio. It really is the most wonderful time of the year. Happy holidays, everyone.