As promised yesterday, I'm back for an unprecedented two days in a row of posting.

Last night thanks to an insider friend blah blah blah, Jacob and I got to go see the premiere of Netflix's new season of Arrested Development.

We've done some semi-glamorous things in Hollywood in our years here. Back when Jacob worked for Jerry Bruckheimer we constantly found ourselves at CSI wrap parties where I still managed to enjoy the buffet despite constantly making a fool of myself because I didn't recognize any of the cast.

We got to go to cast and crew screenings of this piece of cinematic genius

and this feat of fantasy

More recently with Jacob's new company we were invited to the premiere of this

 

where I caught sight of all kinds of teen starlets, but unfortunately Emma and Jeremy didn't make the trip across the Atlantic consequently missing all the dry ice fountains at the Roosevelt after party.

...I think you get the picture...

Enter last night where we get the chance to go see the premiere of one of my all time favorite shows. If you made it to the post quickly enough yesterday you know we got to see two episodes of the new season. I  had to update the post to edit out that info because, immediately after I clicked Publish, Jacob forwarded me this email:



Bet you didn't realize how "enterprising" the R Log was...

Anyhow it was awesome. Though my pics weren't. Here's a blurry picture of the cast.



That's Jessica Walter in the pink. Pretty much as close I got to her, sorry Jessie.

And another picture of...an ostrich.
 


We got to see Patton Oswalt (If you have ANY geek tendencies at all and 8 free minutes you should do yourself a favor and watch this clip.) and lots of other nifty people.

I loved the episodes. Jacob says he was a little disappointed - which I suppose I should tell you so you don't get your hopes way way up - I however hardly remember if I liked them because I was too busy maintaining the stupidest grin on my face.

May 26. 

Feast of St. Phillip Neri, patron saint of joy and humorists, 

and 

ADvent (forgive me) of Season 4.

We await you.

Nursery Rhymes, Nuptials, and Never Nudes

I'm sitting in my office now. I probably should be tallying grades or doing something productive because Oh! Productivity! I need you to be mine this week. But no. I'm becoming strangely nostalgic about teaching and so I turn to ye old blog.

My last day to teach is Wednesday. And then little October Baby has me taking a break from the working world for the foreseeable future. I haven't felt a twinge of emotion about my four years of LMU ending until today.

The end of the semester marks the time when my students come in and recite poetry.

This delights me so much I can hardly talk about it. They come in like little poems themselves, tense and nervous, wiping sweaty palms on pant legs. They start in on their fourteen-liners and stutter and falter through the first couple stanzas until they can see the end at which point they start going a little faster and fall more easily into the cadence of the poem. Then they finish. And they smile. And off they go feeling proud. I feel like I've given them something. Something very real.

I will however NOT be feeling nostalgic on Wednesday when I'm grading. Grading is miserable. Period.

We've been busy bees as of late. I've been mostly coming out of pregnancy nausea but dealing with lots of end of semester details which leaves me dead tired. So Jacob is still doing all the housework, and we're watching too much Diego and Super Why.

We traveled to Texas the weekend before last for my little brother's biggest of big days. The wedding was everything that is lovely. 

I watched my brother marry the most beautiful of brides under a giant oak tree, and I couldn't have been happier. Commence photo dumb:

He's 6'5" and she's obviously no shortie. They make SUCH a striking couple.

Be jealous that your nieces won't get that hair.

My little sister reading like a boss.

My almost 93 year old grandmother cutting a rug with my father.

In other and also very good news. My little man has FINALLY become a hugger which has been perhaps my favorite milestone yet.

Encouraging the groom on his big day.

Now to wrap up, I could tell you how a piece of firewood fell over on Jake's foot yesterday and ROYALLY mangled his poor little toddler toe. Or I could tell you how he had a major blow out at my non-parent-friend's dinner party the other night with nary a diaper in sight. OR I could give a slew of other stories that would immortalize my recent less-than-impressive-parenting, and they would all be so at home on this blog.

But I won't. 

Instead I'll tell you to sit tight and pray that I update you tomorrow because guess where I'll be tonight?

I will be at the premier of this show at the Chinese Theater and sitting next to Michael Cera. 

(Fine. That last part is a lie, but the rest is true. True. TRUE! Don't hate me too much, Bluth fans.)

Premiering

Last Wednesday Jacob and I found ourselves at the Chinese Theater for the premiere of this film which was produced by the good ole employer and payer of most bills Rhodes and for those reasons I will refrain from saying too much about the movie...except that neither Emma Thompson nor Jeremy Irons attended the premiere.  

I don't have any prom-esque pictures for you. Just this one of Jacob biting his lip and that will have to suffice. 

I thoroughly enjoyed the experience. We’ve been to similar events before, but I’m sure I’ll always vainly enjoy seeing our name on The List. And the after parties are always top notch. Free food. Free drinks. Fancy hotels. Over the top décor. I mostly want to just retreat to the one open seat (Oh, wait. This couch is reserved for celebrities? And that one too? Oh all of them? Smile. Nod. Scurry away.) to drink in peace and talk to Jacob whilst eyeing the room for famous people. In no other circumstance do I catch eyes with strangers as often as I do at these parties, because everyone else – just like me – is looking around for famous people.

But the wifey didn’t get to hole up in a corner with her glass of red and instead had to go socialize with the coworkers. I don’t do a good job at this. I’m constantly juggling a plate of food, a glass of wine, and shaking hands with people while racking my brain to remember if I’ve met them before. At one point we were talking with the head of Jacob’s department, and I took a bite of salad and felt some roasted beet go tumbling out of my mouth. I figured it wasn’t too noticeable, and I didn’t want to draw any attention, so I played it cool, kept chitchatting, and internally apologized to the wait staff who’d soon have to clean up my droppings. The apology was ultimately unwarranted, however, because fifteen minutes of “hellos” and “how are yous” later I found the bit of food clinging to my bicep.

The night ended when the dessert was too sweet to warrant seconds and the memory of a 5:30 wake up was calling me back to my bed. But not without hi-fiving this old friend on our way back to the parking garage.

Such is another brief encounter with Hollywood since I know you, and I know you’re all just red-carpet-starved.

What the Chalkboard Says (and other words)

This week has been a relatively uneventful one in the Rhodes Casa, that is if you discount the mountains of student writing I've been sifting through (and the consequent piles of dishes that I haven't touched). 

Midterms. That word fills me with more fear now than when I was a student.

Pity me pity me. I can't handle my job that takes me from home twice a week from 10-5. 

Jacob just left for some "industry party" where he will "network" and drink free liquor on some rooftop in Santa Monica.

So, I ask you, grand readership. Would you rather spend your evening ...

sipping scotch on some overlook breathing in the ocean air and watching the night twinkling on the waves of the Pacific

or 

blogging at home?

Good. I thought so. The rest of you can just leave.

Now down to the real business of Thursday night: cheap wine, chocolate covered almonds, and pictures. Here's a good one:

Camera: Uncle John's Canon Rebel T2i

Photographer: Me (you can tell because of the implicit narrative and how exquisitely in focus the chair behind the grocery bag is)

Here's some two heads are better than one action:

Still strolling

 

and drooling all over the front of our clothing

 and looking generally (generically?) babyish.

And of course What the Chalkboard Says courtesy of Papa Jacob and A. A. Milne:

Happy Day!