Double Mint Crumb

 Lady, You're a Lion Necklace

Dress: Modcloth

Shoes: Ami Clubwear

Bag: DSW

Sunglasses: Mudd, Kohl's

Fluorescent Flight Necklace

Tee: American Rag, Macy's

Skirt: Material Girl, Macy's

Shoes: Worthington JCPenney

Bag: Nine West, Boscov's

Belt: Wet Seal

Sunglasses: Candie's, Kohl's

This week I have only this paltry pair of vaguely mint outfits to offer.  But rest assured that there's more --a whole dessert buffet more! -- waiting in the wings for next week.  

Then again, sometimes three is a crowd. 

WARNING: Spoiler alert ahead!  If you're not watching FOX's The Last Man on Earth and you want to start watching it without being first exposed to my spin, then stop reading right now and go get yourself a cupcake.

In the pilot, Will Forte's Phil is wandering the Arizona desert alone, everyone else on the planet having been wiped out by some mystery virus.  He does what I imagine most men would do, which is to say that he steals stuff (priceless art, the Oval Office rug, and a stucco mansion to put it all in), watches and mocks Cast Away only to assemble his own army of Wilsons, chats up a mannequin, and turns his swimming pool into a toilet, all while sporting a Grisly Adams-style beard.  The sun-drenched desert is as beautiful as it is creepy, the ideal setting for this Twilight Zoney, hilarious yet haunting story, and Phil falls somewhere between pathetic and tragic.  Still, despite this potential for depth, halfway through I couldn't help but worry that the whole thing was going to burn down to a vehicle for frat-style cheap thrills.  Then, at the end of the episode, everything changed.  Overcome with his plight, Phil tries to do himself in only to be distracted by a beautiful, doting woman, the kind of his dreams.  Turns out, she is a dream, although not of the mirage quality (Last Man on Earth isn't as easy as all of that).  She morphs into a gun-toting, takes-no-prisoners Kristen Schaal! Only her name is Carol.  And she's just as kooky as you'd expect.  Clad in eccentric outfits, this craft-a-holic is a combination of annoying and endearing.  She knows what's what, insisting that man-child Phil fix her front door, rig up some plumbing, and, oh yeah, marry her so that they can (legitimately) repopulate the Earth.  Phil grumbles at every grammar correction and to-do list item but begrudgingly, if slowly, begins to mend his slovenly ways.  The ensuing "yes, dear" dynamic brings a typical element to an atypical situation, making for a funny story line that reaffirms the classic sitcom marriage even as it challenges it.  Because the get-it-together-or-die message throbbing through Carol's near-hyper pursuit of the moral high ground makes it clear that she's no wilt-in-the-background wife, but a spunky, spirited force that's going to kick the world back into gear.  And I like to think that, despite his protests, deep down, Phil knows this, too.  In fact, he seems to get downright cozy with the idea (and Carol!) as they enjoy a post-nuptial drive down the deserted desert streets when -- BAM! -- they collide with a car.  Yep, that's right.  There's someone else out there.  And it's January Jones as Melissa, a blonde beauty with whom Phil is instantly smitten.

See?  Sometimes three is a crowd.  Not to mention one too many for a gum commercial.

Movie Moment: The Muppets

About four months after its Thanksgiving weekend debut, the bf and I finally succumbed to Muppet mania.  Like most people, I'd been looking forward to The Muppets for its color, comedy, and all-around craziness.  But I was a little disappointed, which made me feel curiously guilty (I mean, this was the Muppets!), so much so that I defensively chided myself, "Well, maybe that's because you're not five."

Speaking of being a kid, "The Muppet Show" was a little before my time, but I saw The Great Muppet Caper, Muppets Take Manhattan, The Muppet Christmas Carol, and of course, that hallowed mecca of Muppets, "Sesame Street."  Miss Piggy was my favorite.  Her wardrobe was so dazzling that it outshone her bad attitude.

But back to the movie at hand.  Sweethearts Gary and Mary (Jason Segal and Amy Adams) travel to LA to celebrate their anniversary with Gary's kid brother, Walter, in tow.  Walter, it should be mentioned, is not a man, but a muppet (the philosophical ramifications of which are examined to song later on).  Loveable but odd, Walter has been unknowingly driving a wedge between the two-cute-for words Gary and Mary for the better part of ten years.  Mary, like so many women before her, has had it but is too sweet to say so.  As a result, romance is tossed out the window as the trio sets off to tour the old Muppet studio only to find that it's fallen into the clutches of an oil-hungry opportunist (Chris Cooper).  Stricken, Walter leads the way in rounding up his heroes, finally persuading Kermit, Fozzie, Gonzo, Miss Piggy, and the rest of the gang to reunite to perform one last show to save their studio.

Despite a star-studded cast comprised of Kristen Schaal, Jack Black, Rashida Jones, Alan Arkin, and several others, the storyline falls slightly flat.  Nevertheless, highlights include Amy Adams's retro-cute outfits (her inaugural one is in Ronald McDonald-worthy red and yellow), Emily Blunt as secretary to Miss Piggy's Paris plus-size Vogue editor, a la The Devil Wears Prada (red wig and all!), and Bret McKenzie's Oscar-winning song "Man or Muppet," during the course of which "The Big Bang Theory's" Jim Parsons makes an appearance as Walter's alter ego.  As a side note, "The Big Bang Theory" in general and Jim Parsons (as Sheldon) in particular are growing on me.  But more on that later.

Movie Moment: (Kicking Off the Fall Movie Line-up With) Going the Distance

It was a beautiful, sunny Labor Day weekend Sunday - which meant, of course, that I wanted to go to the movies. I hadn't been for the last couple of weekends and was feeling the void. So, on our way home from my sister's apartment (the bf and I had stayed there last night after attending our friend's [her best friend's] wedding), we stopped off to see Going the Distance, which had opened Friday. Undoubtedly, you've seen the commercials. Distance stars real-life couple Drew Barrymore and Justin Long. (They're an on-again/off-again kind of duo, but according to my most recent Google update, they're currently "on.") Drew Barrymore plays Erin, a Stanford journalism student spending the summer in New York doing a newspaper internship, and Justin Long plays Garrett, a New Yorker working for a soulless record label. Garrett has a history of misunderstanding women and has never been in love, and Erin once dropped out of grad school for a guy who broke her heart (this explains why she's a 31-year-old intern). They meet at a bar (where Flight of the Conchords stalker Kristen Schaal pours the drinks) and get together for a fling. Six weeks later, when it's time for Erin to return to San Francisco, they realize they're in love. So, they try the long distance thing. Heartache peppered with raunchiness ensues, with Garrett's buddies (Charlie Day and Jason Sudeikis) trying to drown his sorrows in pitchers of beer and Erin's sister (Christina Applegate) unabashedly dispensing tough love advice.

So, was it what I expected? Not really. It was more serious than the trailers let on, and not a little wrenching. But I liked that about it, appreciating its commitment to keeping things real. I could especially identify with Erin, a writer looking for a job in a world where print journalism is dying. She tries to get a permanent position at the New York newspaper where she interned to no avail and meets with the same rejection at every other publication in the city. Finally, she's offered a job with a San Francisco paper. Garrett is less than pleased, they fight, and he ends up asking her to move in with him, in New York. Touched, she accepts, planning to continue waitressing until a writing job opens up. Her brother-in-law (Jim Gaffigan) suggests she start a blog. (She doesn't).

At the last minute, Garrett steps in and tells her she can't throw her life away and needs to take the job. She does. At the risk of sounding like a cliché, their breakup is very sad, a classic case of two people wanting different things. They each go on with their lives, but of course it's not the same. Then Erin receives tickets to see the band that she and Garrett first saw together. She goes, and of course he's there. He's ditched his dreaded job, become the band's manager, and now lives in Los Angeles, which is only an hour's plane ride away.

For a minute there, I thought it might be one of those movies where they don't get back together. Kind of like The Break-Up, or 500 Days of Summer. So, I was relieved that that wasn't the case. But I was also left thinking that San Francisco and Los Angeles are still kind of far away for maintaining a healthy relationship. (That's the cynic in me showing its colors). Anyway, at least it was a more realistic ending than if Garrett had, say, landed a job in San Francisco. I gave myself more closure by deciding that the ending was trying to say that successful relationships thrive on never-ending compromise. (Although the movie delivered the message in a much less cheesy way than I just did.)

Overall, I think Going the Distance was good and undeserving of its bad reviews. But that's just this humble viewer's opinion.

Movie Moment: Dinner for Schmucks

I thought it was high time I provided my readers with some borrowed visuals when appropriate. If only to add photographs other than my own to the mix.

All summer long, I've been waiting for the movies. For the blockbusters and comedies that give summer its excitement and sparkle. But after Sex and the City 2 came out in May, June melted into July with nary a prospect, and I resigned myself to the sad truth that there would be nothing to see.

And then came August. Instead of winding down with a cold buffet of B offerings, summer finally came into its own, unleashing a smorgasbord of possibility in Dinner for Schmucks (I know it came out at the tail end of July, but for the purposes of my argument, that works too); The Other Guys; Scott Pilgrim vs. the World; Eat, Pray, Love; The Switch; and Going The Distance. Now, I know you must be thinking, "What?! These are the movies for which you've been waiting?" I know, I know. Most of them aren't stellar, in and of themselves. But together they present a united front of much-needed, light-hearted summer fare, offering choices where none existed before. I'm someone who likes to go to the movies. A lot. And quite frankly, I don't expect to have a religious experience each time. I'm just looking to be entertained. I want comedies (and sometimes dramas), and lots of them, even if they turn out to be merely lukewarm.

So, last night I decided that the bf and I should venture out and see one of these contenders. I was torn between Dinner for Schmucks and The Other Guys (Scott Pilgrim vs. the World was out because I knew the bf wouldn't want to see it, not sharing my appreciation for Michael Cera.). They were two comedies that may or may not be funny. On the one hand, you had Paul Rudd, Steve Carell, and Jemaine Clement (Flight of the Conchords) and the promise of all the color and noise and hilarity that comes with a plot based around a dinner party. On the other hand, you had Will Ferrell (and Mark Wahlberg, but he hardly counts as an asset. Nothing against him, but he's just no Will Ferrell, you know?). Now, Will Ferrell's genius is such that it trumps the characteristic dreariness of the cop movie. So, I was clearly feeling the pull. But despite my emotional tug-of-war, I decided to go with Dinner for Schmucks. The appeal of the weird factor was too strong to resist, as was Paul Rudd.

So, how was it? A little slow at first. And definitely weird. It also had a faintly European flavor, which was probably owing to the fact that it was based on the 1998 French film Le Diner de Cons (or to us, The Dinner Game). It became more farcical and dramatic as it built to its (admittedly predictable) conclusion. Steve Carell stole the show as Barry, an IRS agent who creates diorama "mouseterpieces" featuring dead mice in elaborate settings such as the Last Supper, Orville and Wilbur Wright's first flight, and an extravagant picnic starring little girl mice in red wigs emulating his ex-wife. Barry is the well-meaning moron who wreaks havoc every time he tries to "help," the ultimate schmuck who is destined to take first prize at Tim's (Rudd's) boss's competition dinner for idiots. Yet despite his annoying personality and fondness for dead rodents, I must admit that I was genuinely charmed by Barry and his mouseterpieces. Call it the artist in me, but anyone who would devote so much time, detail, and love to such an off-putting craft couldn't help but emerge as endearing. Jemaine Clement's role as an out-there, oversexed artist was interesting too, although in a creepy and decidedly not endearing way. It was strange seeing him with long hair, no glasses, and a tan - not to mention actually getting chicks -- when I've known him as only the hapless nerdy musician on Conchords. Speaking of which, the Conchords's friendly stalker, Mel (Kristen Schaal), also made an appearance as Tim's quirky secretary (she is just as odd as she is in Conchords and wears some fabulously kitschy pins).

Overall, Dinner for Schmucks wasn't laugh-out-loud funny. But it was fun to watch, and to this comedy-starved moviegoer, well worth the trip.