I Like Lists; Volume 1: Sitcom edition

On my wall, I have a pathetic piece of paper labeled happy list, which I made years ago at camp.  It has maybe a hundred different things that make me happy, but none of those things make me as happy as simply making the list.  

Great Things About Sitcoms:

They are short

They tend to last for many seasons, unless they suck or are underappreciated

Even the most serious episodes try to make you laugh out loud

Popular shows bring in pretty sweet guest stars

They have a formula, so there is always an idea of what to expect

You get to know the characters over time

They can meld comedy and drama fairly well

Friends is one

At One with the Brits

It all started with Happy-Go-Lucky.  Or maybe with the fact that my best is in London this semester.  Either way, I am now completely obsessed with England.  It's weird, since I have spent the last 5 years or so learning about the oppressive country that the precious Americans just had to escape from.  But maybe the inclusion of a Euro history class has broaden my puritanical mind, because welcome to the BBC.  

There was a scene at the end of Austin Powers where the dear fake Brit pledged his allegiance to the BBC through song.  I guess I'll do something along those lines in writing.  But not just for the BBC, but to the country in general.  The accents, the other side of the road, the history, the rain, all just mesh together to form such a cool country.

A country that produces shows like Skins or the late Coupling.  Or movies like Happy-Go-Lucky.  Or books like all of the Jane Green and Sophie Kinsella and Louise Rennison and so many others that I love so much.  They all give me this intimate feel for England and the lifestyle that it encompasses.  It's not like Love Actually or the Secret Diary of a Call Girl, which I like, but which are made by Americans, and therefore feel American.  I'm sorry Hugh Grant, but all of your American romantic comedies have stripped you of the allure of the British label.  

Skins, on the other hand, brings me right into the center of British life.  It uses British humor and styles, and also discusses America from that outside perspective.  Like Showtime, it can have nudity and sex and cursing without a second thought.  They are openly acknowledged as a basic facet of life.  Which they are in America too, but in a more censored way.  

I seriously can't wait for my England semester.  In the book I just finished, the girl got sick of New York, so she fled to London to stay with her friend and ended up staying forever.  So desirable to me right now.  But since it's not for a year, I'll just wikipedia British gossip and historical factoids in the meantime.

Much love, 

from your wannabe foreign friend,

Sandy Fink

Teardrops on My Guitar

I don't mean the Tay Tay song either.  Even though most people know how much I love her.  I just mean things that make me cry.  I used to cry about everything.  I could cry on cue, to get the big sis in trouble.  I could cry over getting punished.  But the first time a movie made me cry was the first time I saw Titanic in fourth grade.  Maybe it was Leo's sheer beauty, or the frozen bodies in the water, or the fact that one half of the star-crossed duo died (everyone knows the ending anyway, don't whine).  I guess it was all of it, because 9-year old Sandy stayed in the seat after the movie and sobbed.  Next up was My Girl, because really who can't cry during that?  Come on, when he goes back to get the mood ring, and then the bees, and the funeral home, it's the most depressing.  

But nothing compares to the ultimate tearjerker.  Starring the famazing Bette Midler and the unknown in anything else to me, Barbara Hershey, is the sob-inducing masterpiece, Beaches.  I can barely even think about that movie without breaking down.  Who can resist, when Bette sings Wind Beneath My Wings, with the daughter watching from the sidelines?  If you can, don't tell me, because I will deem you heartless and write you off.

I will not deem you heartless if you write off the first ever book that made me cry, A Walk to Remember.  I agree with your mocking.  Because Nicholas Sparks is terrible. But dying teenagers is sad.  Right?

Ever since, everything will make me cry.  I have to skip season finales of TV shows, and don't even get me started on the Ross/Rachel breakup episode of season 3 (they continue to break up every season following, but they don't do it).  

Now you know.  My pathetic secret.  Movies, TV episodes, books, "Let it Be", it all reduces me to the status of a post-partum mother.  Fortunately, TV commercials haven't done it yet.  Maybe the whole my brother ditched me for pot commercials, but THAT'S IT.

Love you Taylor Swift!

Whoops, I forgot

I neglected to mention Callie from Grey's.  I used to really hate her, but the show did everything that it could to redeem her, so now I am lukewarm.  Liz Skale has her wallet. Sara Ramirez that is, the actress who plays Callie.  And who also has a small role in the romantic comedy wonder You've Got Mail.

When Good Things Turn Bad

Does anyone remember the hype after the first season of Grey's Anatomy?  All about how ABC had finally gotten something right, and was becoming the staple of broadcast television.  It really was true.  The first two seasons of Grey's really did make ABC the go-to channel.  But then somewhere along the way, it lost its footing.  Der and Mer broke up and got together one too many times, George's character lost his purpose, Izzie cut her trademark blond hair, and gay slurs kicked off one of the main characters. Add those errors to the incessant new characters, abrupt removals of others, and weak plotlines and you get the recipe for a show that has lived past its prime.  

The first two seasons were so great, that every time I walked past the dvds at Target, I got the urge to buy them again.  That's why my family owns 3 copies of first and 2 copies of second.  It had interesting characters, interesting medical cases, and plausible plotlines.  But now... no no no.  

Once in a while, there is a decent episode, or an interesting case, but as a whole, I only continue watching the show out of obligation.  ABC, please cancel it and restore some sanity to my life.  You already cancelled Pushing Daisies, and that was great.  Let me enjoy my new pleasure, Life on Mars, and get rid of my Grey's burden!  George hates it too.  Just throw us a bone, before it's too late.

The epiphany

In When Harry Met Sally, Sally explains that she broke up with her ex-boyfriend because he did not believe that there were no Sundays in her days of the week underwear.  She says that they don't make Sundays "because of God."  Sundays are a holy day in which you should do no work and whatever.  I guess that translates to underwear.  And to blogs.  This Sunday was the first time I have skipped a day since starting the thing.  And I picked the holy Sabbath to do it.  Uh, but as a Jew, my Sabbath is on Saturday and this rational makes zero sense.  But I needed some sort of excuse.

It has come to my attention recently that I have been labeling my different entries as if they were episodes of a TV show.  You know, with a twist on a movie title or song.  The original "pilot" was intentional, but after that, I guess my incessant tv watching just inspired me.  I don't really mind the whole TV format, but only if they don't become too predictable.  No one style.  This post is in the style of The O.C., always beginning with "The".  Next up, maybe a Friends, with a "the one where..."  But if I ever pull a Degrassi and start labelling each post after an 80s pop song (with the exception of the first season masterpiece, "Jagged Little Pill", hellooo 90s), please stop me.  I need the variation.  

Speaking of variation, I want to jump to a new topic.  I wish that I could write a novel. Like a really silly, fun one.  Cecily von Ziegesar isn't even good and she got a hit TV spinoff of her bestselling series.  I just finished Something Borrowed, written by Emily Giffin and encouraged by Liz Skale (from the carousel).  It was so cute and girlie that I think that I could totally do it.  Better right about being young when I still am.  Well, sort of young.  No more teenager.  Hello wrinkles and gray hair.  But yeah, I would be a fab chicklit author.  I have certainly read enough of it.  The best is Sophie Kinsella, in case you were wondering.  Hello new career.  I welcome you.

Sandy-Go-Lucky

So, I think that a good employee should never indulge in too much behavior that might alter their working abilities.  So as a Hebrew teacher on Sunday mornings, I try not to stay out too late on Saturday nights.  So this Saturday night (right now), I went to the movies with Bergs and Emerson.  We went to one of the tiny Ithacrazy movie theaters and saw a Brit flick called Happy-Go-Lucky.  And it was.  Totally happy-go-lucky.  No famous actors, at least not in America, so I couldn't play the "I have scene this actor in one episode of Friends in 4th season" game.  Instead, I just had to watch it and enjoy. And despite the British actors' crazy bad teeth, it was completely fab.  

I am now thinking of moving to London and setting up shop as an orthodontist.  I would make a killing fixing those Austin Powers facial fixtures.  But since I know nothing about orthodontia, I think I will just spend a semester in London studying history and seeing plays.  Ah now that sounds like a dream.  I like seriously want to go to London now.  

See Happy-Go-Lucky.  It's so different from anything I have seen.  It's really just a snapshot of a woman's life that could make almost anyone feel so hopeful.  Pretty much the anti-Revolutionary Road.