thank the gods i'm not an american teen...

after a lovely dinner with lou and hot mama at the razzi (no celeb sightings this time around), lou, kent, and i hit up a free preview of american teen. it's a documentary that has been compared to the breakfast club. see exhibit a:

the movie was really interesting and quite good, but it is NOT the breakfast club (which, by the way, i saw in theatre in 1985 and a subsequent 389 times). although i wouldn't put it past megan to have said "Do you know how popular I am? I am so popular. Everybody loves me so much at this school," there are no great lines like "But face it. You're a neo maxi zoom dweebie," or "So it's sorta social; demented and sad, but social. Right?"

the kid pictured above in bender's (judd nelson's) position is no rebel! actually, mitch is far from it! he's the easily peer pressured pussy who also happens to play basketball. the real rebel is the kick-ass chick, hannah, whom we all cheered for and cried over (ok, prozac prevented that from actually happening, but ya get my point), and not at all like dandruff-shaking recluse allison that ally sheedy played. the kid portrayed above as the jock is far from "andy," who was in saturday detention for taping a geeky kid's butt cheeks together with duct tape; american teen's colin would never do anything like that. jake, the self-loathing "geeky" kid may have been an outcast for a lot of reasons, but unlike the geeky kids in my high school who went on to full academic scholarships at Harvard and are laughing at all those who heckled them in high school as they roll around in their millions of dollars, jake--with his there-they-are/now-they're-gone/there-they-are-again zits--didn't seem academically advanced at all. (although i did like jake and wish him lots of love and sex in his near future.)

the aforementioned megan is just horrible. i resist saying all the things i really want to about her because the movie is a documentary and megan is a real person, but WOW. talk about a completely unsympathetic character! she had no redeeming qualities, and i was actually disappointed at her successes--i so much wanted to see her fail. the WaPo review said that when she receives her college acceptance letters is "one of the movie's most affecting moments...here she moves us -- just when we thought we had her figured." bullshit--i never at any point felt any warmth toward the girl who vandalized another teen's house with the word "FAG," left super mean messages on a "friend's" voicemail after forwarding a topless photo of said "friend" to the whole school, and treated all of her peers/friends like crap, and i especially didn't feel happy for her when she got into notre dame. this girl is the main reason i am so glad that high school is long-ago over and will never have to be repeated. and you know what? megan isn't even hot--hannah is much more attractive in every way, and her story was most satisfying and literally had the audience cheering at the end.

***i really hope that seeing this movie was a real eye-opener for megan, and i kinda like that she is forever immortalized in celluloid as a snotty bitch. it's quite the same way that i love love love that those stupid RV-drivin' racist frat boys in Borat are humiliated for life for being such douche bags.

on another note, cell phones?? i am so so so glad there weren't cell phones around in my high school years. or email for that matter. just when you thought teenagers couldn't get more cruel, along came email and cell phones to more easily spread rumors, continuously gossip, and forward incriminating/awkward/inappropriate photos. i can't believe cell phones are even allowed in schools. the constant text messaging--uch! one chick was even texting while breaking up with jake. cheating freshman whore...

overall, the film was really good--i suggest you see it (waiting for it to be netflixable is acceptable). if you are like me, you will cringe for half of the film while during the other half thanking the gods that high school will never, ever have to happen again...

see ya soon...

weds night in the palisades...

oh my god, i chose my project runway fafarazzi team totally wrong—i was so good on top chef!! it is early in the season, and i can switch up my team, so who knows…? i mean, i didn’t start strong on top chef, i just happened to kick ass and finish at the top.

i didn’t lose power after all…

wait!! that was way too premature! let me reiterate: i didn’t lose power until 10:15. fare-lee-well to the million bucks. i coulda been a contender…i coulda been a millionaire.

so that’s 2 strikes--project runway and the electricity. what could possibly be worse? never having children?? forgetting how to do the hustle?? (i don't actually know how to do the hustle--sorry, rachel--but maybe this will help...)

so anywayzzzz…bats just flew right by my head. guess it serves me right for standing on the DARK DECK OF DOOM to watch the storm b/w commercial breaks…speaking of:

my dearest shitastic landlo'…

just b/c you have the rugged handsomeness of aaron eckhart doesn’t mean i am blind to your negligence.

i wanted to let you know that several times over the past couple of years i have slipped down or tripped up the back stairs either because the stairs were wet or because it is too dark to see (or both). i was carrying a flashlight and taking careful steps down to the laundry room last night; regardless, i slipped down the steps, hit my head, and bruised my back. this isn't the first time i've been hurt from a fall on those steps, but last night's fall was by far the worst and most frightening. is it possible to install lights in the back stairwell and put some slip-resistant treads on the steps? (the building attached to us has lighting for both the 1st and 2nd level stairwells, so maybe you could see how they did it...?)

oh, and while you're at it--can you PLEASE scale back the giant JUNGLE in our front yard? it not only harbors an entire homeless family and several species of rodents, but the bushes that have been dead for over a year have now turned black and smell like ass. we are an embarrassment to this lovely neighborhood.

thank you!

btw--the guy who lives across the hall has lived there for 30+ years--hasn't he ever cared that he has to risk life and limb to go down to the laundry dungeon??? (i think they filmed SAW down there--it is super creepy.)

xoxox,

MPL

i'll betcha a million dollars...

...that i lose electricity within the hour. i might even go as far to say 30 mins or less. too bad, really, as i had SO much to blog about...my life is like a sitcom sometimes (often) but without the huge paycheck...

xoxox,

mpl

saturday night on the couch

my sweetie and i are enjoying the remainder of our date weekend, watching the 4/5/08 episode of SNL. you'd think that we missed seeing it live b/c that was my birthday, but we missed seeing it live b/c we were asleep by 10. :) no worries, the birthday was more-than-adequately celebrated the weekend following. anyway, i hadn't seen this before:

(click on image to reach a page with the video--i have no idea how to snag a video from another site. yes, i know i was a web developer, but that was in years 1995-2002....much has changed.)

i just love kristin wiig. target lady!! "vanilla scented candles!" i practiced non-stop until could emulate that character. i also love penelope, the compulsive liar & one-upper.
wiig's imitation of padma lakshmi from "top chef" is pretty right on, as well; close your eyes and listen for a second before focusing on wiig's mouth. what wiig can't duplicate in skin tone and stunning beauty*, she makes up for in her dead on mannerisms and speech.

anyway, i will soon give an update on my dad (all is well, and thanks so much to everyone for their love and support), and will also present yet ANOTHER example of why i am the luckiest bitch in the world...love you, kurty. thanks for a wonderul weekend (so far)--off to billy-burg in the a.m.!!

xoxox,
MPL

*this is not meant to imply that ms wiig isn't a gorgeous babe in her own right, but no one can argue that padma lakshmi's beauty is incomparable.

love ya, d!!

i still haven't spoken to my dad, but from what kimmy (his wife of over 20 yrs) tells me, he did everything right and will be OK. i could be wrong on a few details b/c the information i have is gathered via one crackly cell conversation from the hospital waiting room (i assume that, as at tradeshows, to go outside for better cell reception means a very long walk down a very long corridor to wait for an elevator that will take you down 20 flights to the lobby via "the local" to then have to walk 1/2 of a mile to the final egress). my dad is in CCU, so there are no phones and one is not permitted to use cell phones in there b/c of the machines. even though it is I who is dad's pride & joy, of course it was steven who was first to reach dad on his cell at hospital and spoke with my dad for several minutes until nurse mildred ratched came in and put the kibosh on that. ANYWAY, from what i hear, my dad did everything right (i think i may have already said that, so sue me--i'm distracted): my dad felt some symptoms, called an ambulance, and (this is where i am fuzzy) either had the heart attack in the bus (thanks, law & order--bomp bomp) or at hospital after he arrived. apparently he'll be fine, but i won't know that for certain until i actually speak to my dad b/c he doesn't lie to me or hide me from the truth. hell, he wouldn't even shelter me from seeing halloween when i was 7 and poltergeist when i was 8, so he is certainly not concerned about the fear factor...

the thing that i can't wait to find out is HOW exactly this was able to happen at all. last year my dad had prostate cancer. he caught it uber-early on, went through 45 days in a row of radiation monday - friday (he got thanksgiving off--woot!). they actually put little beads inside his pelvis and zapped them every day for 15 mins or some crazy shizz like that. oh, and hospital was a 45 minute drive each way. talk about a friggin' wrench in your day! good thing my dad likes to sing to the oldies on the radio--holla to johnnie mathis, for the love of christ. during his radiation therapy, my dad claims to have never felt overly tired or sore or anything--doctor's said he did great and all has been clear since december. lee schulman is the poster-child for this therapy. (my other dad, rabbi dad, is the poster-child for the surgical therapy with prostate cancer, but that's another story another time.)

so, i'm curious to know--how did this happen? my dad has normal cholesterol, he is slim, he is (like me) a pescetarian who enjoys food but watches his diet, he walks every day, and on top of it, i am SURE my dad has been having regular check-ups since radiation finished, which was only +/-7 months ago. how the hell could he have a heart attack? maybe the self-employed get crap benefits and they didn't monitor that shizz.

by the way, this image was on the T'shirt he wore to the first day of his treatment:

i guess you need some background on my dad, but some other time. quick fix: d is extremely artistic and has a very...um...black and crude sense of humor. to him, there aren't many things or topics that are inappropriate, and he is overtly sexual. a true swingin' singles guy in the 70's--white leather loafers and all, girls. nights at the disco. hot tub parties. playboy clubs. many many stories to come. and ya gotta love him more for each one. i know it is hard to believe, but i have a little (???) of him in me.

my dad wore the same hat to every radiation treatment--it became his signature with the nurses: [please note: b/c BSUR is sold out of this classic item for the moment, i am unable to find a proper image to post below; therefore, i must trust you to please imagine the following artwork on a faded navy cap--the color of which brings out my dad's baby blues. carry on...]
why did he do this? not because my dad especially loves beer; ever since schlitz and PBR have become less available, i think he's more of a wine drinker. no, the reason he donned this cap every day (e-v-e-r-y-d-a-y) is b/c his little cha-cha bear, his chach, his p, his babe, his baby girl, his "yes, sir, that's my baby, no sir i don't mean maybe..." is, well, let's face his, his favorite of all his children. you can have 20 boys (he has 3), but boys have NO hope against the youngest child who happens to also be....a curly headed little girl. suck it. :)

more to follow...on my way out to take a LONG, hard core walk around this fine city with my iPod, my phone, and my smartwater in tow. my dad used to make me run 10Ks with him when i was 8. this is in his honor. i told you there are stories!!! you thought p. schulman had stories--you've heard NOTHIN'....

i can't wait to hear my dad's voice. :)

the addiction remains

my sister thought she could come over here and spearhead an intervention....it sure didn't take long until her addiction (and performance) put me to shame:
so, kurt says "i'm gonna send this picture to your mom. she'll wanna come over and play."

MPL says "please, kurty, please....the woman isn't even coordinated enough to clap her hands at jazzercise, and she's been at that for 15 years."

p.s. a 60 Minutes piece on david beckham reported by anderson cooper?!?! how could a sunday get any better? it's a good thing kurt isn't home, or he'd be givin' it up as soon as this is over... another addiction clearly remains.

oh snap!!!

"From a fashion viewpoint, Michelle Obama looks so comfortable and relaxed in her style and her fashion, and she exudes that. She has a presence that gives you confidence in her. Cindy McCain looks like someone has twisted her pony tail into a knot and tried to give her a face lift."
- Project Runway's Tim Gunn tells Time Magazine

Oh, suki-suki! I LOVE IT! By the way, Tim--have you put any thought into that show I want to create with you???

i'm a junkie...

my right forearm THROBS all freakin' day. my veins pulsate with anticipation. my muscles ache from (and long for) what lies ahead. gotta get my fix...

it's schulman vs. masse in the semi-finals. schulman is suffering a humiliating defeat, the likes of which have not been seen since the violent beatdown she and swenson put on masse & mccormick at the Scene It Winter Tournament of 2005. although schulman came into tonight's event as the favorite to take gold, and her strong performance in the first couple of rounds gave the high-rollers a false sense of security, the outlook no longer looks good for the little red haired girl. "barracuda" will never be the same...

stay tuned....

apro-fucking-pos

it is my bff rachel's birthday today. there is a prime time episode of TPIR on tv right now. (TPIR = the price is right, you dumb-ass motherfuckers.)

OH OH OH!!! and they're playing the goddamn YODELING game--i cannot believe it. holy christ. TPIR, drew carey, and the yodeling game?? rachel would be off her rocker if she were watching this right now. yes, i said 'off her rocker' because, bitch--we's OLD!! if we was young, i woulda said "rachel's underwears would be soaked if she were watching this right now." that's right, we're are both less than a handful o' yrs away from the big 4-0! but you know what--bring it on. BRING. IT. ON. 'cause if the 30s rock this hard, i can't wait to see my 40s. holla!!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, HO*!!!!

* ho = rachel Hodesh festenstein. yes, that's her name; no, i'm not kidding; and, yes, "hodesh" is hebrew so it begins with a hard h...


ohmahgad, i just realized--why stop there?! how about some classic pnut & ho moments from 1988-2008?! (twenty years?! i just threw up in my mouth a little...). the people deserve to hear some stories from the old days. ("the people" being rachel's children--as soon as they're old enough to read.) :)

*** stealing condoms every time we went to the kroger in kentwood--for no other reason than we thought it was hilarious. we filled with condoms an entire crystal bowl in your parents' foyer at the new year's party ('ello, 1989! woot!). funniest thing--we were all virgins. (still are...) (that was clear foreshadowing of my career in hiv/aids education, nachon?
***rachel chose me instead of my brother. true story: rachel & TR were high school sweethearts in the classic sense--we all thought they were in for the long haul. they were our jack & diane! she and i met. she and i realized we were going to be in it for the long haul, and he made her choose. MADE HER CHOOSE!! lol. fucking sophie's choice, right? well, ray ray (i'm the ONLY person in the universe allowed to call her that, btw), quite prophetically, chose ME. miss penny lane. pnut. p. schulman. scooter. flyman. sprout. poodle. yes, she chose ME. and i still have her! that's the ultimate revenge on a brother who, along with the 2 other older brothers, tortured me my whole life. ha!

more to come...

what to watch RIGHT NOW!!

for my millions of loyal fans who check MPL every 15 minutes, i implore you to turn on the USA Network NOW and catch as much as possible of this Warren Beatty AFI Special. this kicks the oscars' ass...

then again, USA will replay this 1,000,000 times, so enjoy your tuesday eve and be sure to catch the program from the quick.

p.s. diane keaton was phenomenal--from head to toe and from her heart; i hope someone has those kinds of things to say about me one day...

another reason i boycott denise richards

um, yeah...her next episode is all about how she is so so FAT FAT FAT--she must've said it 20x in the 30 second spot i accidentally saw on E! a moment ago. i also learned from that horrid ad that the ep includes her desperate quest to lose "all the weight." oh yeah...you're a real healthy role model for your children, you skinny bitch, let alone the rest of america.

by the way, i will NEVER...NEVER...NEVER watch her show. care to join my boycott??