The last day of the year and the Boy has celebrated by sleeping from 6 p.m. last night to past 9 this morning. Everything is covered with a fresh blanket of white snow, and later tonight Monstro and I are dining at Circa, assuming his sore throat doesn't interfere with our plans.

Happy Old Year! Gotta make some black-eyed peas tonight!

Monstro and I watched Superbad on DVD from Netflix last night. We both were looking forward to it, but I was disappointed.

“It's what Judd Apatow does,” I said. “Knocked Up was funny for the first ten minutes and then it, uh, wasnt.” The “Munich=Jewish action heroes” bar conversation is the funniest part of that movie, before even Seth Rogan meets Kathryn Hegguhlll (that's how I pronounce her last name; want to fight about it?).

In the now-trademark Apatowesque style, Superbad's opening Cera/Hill conversation is great, and when Seth (love that Rogen named the main character after himself; writer's privilege!) goes off on his teacher about cooking Tiramisu, it's hilarious AND there's a deleted scene in the extras where the teacher gives it right back to him, BUT, overall, the film was floppy and bland.

It's too bad, because I've long held forth that Michael Cera is the best actor on Arrested Development, and Jonah Hill was great in The 40-Year Old Virgin as the weird kid who tried to buy the goldfish boots. Instead of evolving their characters, though, it lapsed into challenge-response. The movie was so focused on the external that their internal relationships imploded and the comedy faded away, poof.

The minor narrative was about the disconcertingly street-unsavvy, dumbass geekguy who gets a fake ID with one name that says he's 25. He separates from the duo and immediately bangs into two cops; cops who are at first stupid, then get stupid drunk for the rest of the movie. Are stupid drunk cops funny? Scary, sure. But funny?

Scary don't jibe with the funny. Now, the Grotesque and comedy, duh, of course. (Hey Harvey! I miss you!)

scary + funny = creepy
The Cable Guy creepy. Yick.
So, where's Motormouth's breakout comedy screenplay? Place your bets! Or comment. You know. Whichever.
And, hey, Kath-er-ine, Happy Basel New Year! Your life is amazing. I can't imagine what your passport looks like.

That was the name of my church's written-and-directed-by-Motormouth Christmas pageant this year. We were supposed to have it on the third week of Advent but got snowed out, so we did it on the 23rd. Amazing that none of the kids were on family trips, though one girl couldn't participate due to her grandma's quick, untimely death. The kid I picked for the lead usually does four things at a time but was settled and funny before the congregation, and all the parishioners responded well to him, so that was great. I had to push a bunch of parents taking pictures out of my way whilst directing on-the-spot; t'was not my finest moment but also not Kevin pushing a four-year-old out of the way for first dibs at the merry-go-round. (Kevin was 35 at the time.)

Anyway, I don't know if it's going to encourage anyone to set a New Year's Resolution to raise money to send animals to other parts of the world, but here's hoping.

Monstro got the game Bioshock for Christmas and now his room sounds like a locked psych ward during an all-points fire drill. Lots of screaming and gunshots. I'm sticking to Friends. Mini-marathon tonight!

Does this exist? Because I would totally buy it. My only bread-repurposing tips are French toast, croutons, and this tomato-bread salad. I'm afraid the baguettes in question are beyond even that.

Christmas was lovely. I think it's probably our last commercial-free Christmas for many years, which made it all the sweeter. Thirty-six hours later and there's still a present under our tree for our little guy. It's amusing to note that it's the same gift that he never got to on his birthday, so we just held it over to Christmas. Maybe he'll unwrap it on Valentine's Day? Time will tell.

Monstro gave me a necklace with a working compass pendant that I'd seen in a catalog, plus an extraordinary edition of Blake's The Divine Comedy — not only are the reproductions gorgeous, but all notes and captions are printed in English, Français, and Deutsch.

But I've got to admit, the Monstro present I was most excited about is the Viking Press hardcover of Finnegans Wake. I'm swooning over it every time I think of it. It's so wonderful. And so is Monstro, my sweet husband!

So I did the bulk of the shopping for Christmas dinner this morning, and I bought pretty cool gifts for everyone except Amber, who I'll owe a pretty necklace to, and most of my gifts are wrapped, and DH finished grading his Comp students, and only has the Holocaust class to go, which is stupendous.

We talked about movies to add to our Netflix, and now, based on my interest in “Superbad” and “Red Dawn”, they recommend we also queue Beerfest, Heartbreak Ridge, and Road House. Happily, we're getting the last three DVDs of Veronica Mars tomorrow. Monstro used to hate the theme song but I've brought him to the other side of it. Now we gyrate wildly to it. Dandy Warhols is just a gyrate kind of band.

I got a *really* good idea last night for a series of ten one-act plays with an at-once common and over-the-moon denominator. I told it to DH and he liked it, too, and immediately saw the potential in it. Best thing is, I already have the first play in the cycle: it's Bible Study. Anyone want to play Guess the Denominator?

Oh, and before I go to cook chicken for from-scratch enchiladas and get up my kid (too late, my mom just did it), the Comtesse posted the best blog post I've seen this year, and the year's almost over and everything! Motormouth says, “Check it out.”