New video: NYC “Bee Movie” premiere (feat. Jerry Seinfeld and Chris Rock!)

“Why are bees funny?”

Psych! Nothing could ever ruin guac for me.

Today’s Take 5. Smells like egotism!

“Who died and made you Nadia?”

Really. So many of the photographic documentation of my summer has taken place at the Jersey Sub Shop, which is obviously located in New Buffalo, Michigan. The cookies are decorated by a crackhead, there are random Shreks and cows out front, and worst of all, the sandwiches aren’t even that great. So why is such a large percentage of my digipic options to throw on DR JSS-related? No clue, but I find it hilarious. So here are some more. The JSS is totally my “beat” for the summer. I’m such a journalist.

JERSEY SUB SHOP UPDATES, AUGUST 2007

Once a valiant standing figure, here is where Shrek sits, crumpled up, today.

The cookies have received a major facelift from last month, but still don’t look like anything anyone would ever choose to eat. (They don’t know what they’re missing!)

Contrary to what you’d expect from the lawn outside, the JSS is not actually a dairy. It’s just very supportive of the lactose community. Also, my friend and fellow Show Choir alum Kristers makes her DR debut, in just about the most flattering shot imaginable.

Right.

This new show called “Take 5″ debuted today on EW.com! Watch for the banana-flavored Reese’s and latent reference to Dee Barrett. Who am I kidding?

I’m “entertaining” people this weekend — I gotta go make a 72-hour playlist. Why wouldn’t I do that?

From EW.com: Glamorous entertainment writer Annie Barrett drools in the shape of a smiley face onto a plate of Oscar-nomintated desserts. (Close enough.)

I really am still blogging, I swear! Here’s a smattering of proof.

–‘The O.C.’: “Help us!” Love, the Cohens

–The Constantine: Everybody else is wearing it, so why can’t you?

–Dancin’ Dave Price may be the next Bob Barker. Who knew I’d ever have a chance to plug the only video I’ve ever made? No one! You idiots! NOTHING HAPPENS FOR A REASON. Or is it everything happens for no reason? Not everything happens for a reason? Longer treatise on this to come.

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Center-aligned asterisks make me seem so prolific!

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This was 2006’s installment of the “Tangled Up in Blue” Halloween costume (founded in 2001 by DR correspondent “Mughan” Dunn). Definitely my worst effort to date. Blatant lack of feathers. Zero leg action. Tiny bit of yarn and a scarf. Pizza.

I realized three years into the costume that maybe 50% of the people I encounter on Halloween weekend have ever actively listened to Bob Dylan… and only 30% of those people recognize the title “Tangled Up in Blue.” My friend TG, who’s seen the costume three times now, had no idea I was ever supposed to be a song. “I thought you just liked that yarn,” he said. But he was right — that’s really the whole point of the outfit anyway. I cannot get enough of that ball of yarn. Next year, I won’t even bother with the explanation.

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IS THIS YOUR VAN?

I need it. We totally bonded.

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Agh! Ann from Arrested Development (a.k.a. Bell, Egg, Man) guest starred on last night’s Desperate Housewives.

I love how this actress doesn’t mind being made to look gross on purpose… Also, god I miss AD.

Writing for EW.com’s PopWatch blog has been awesome, but it means I haven’t had much time to update on here with reports on my relationship with my DVR and pictures of food on my bed.

:(

In lieu of that, here are some of the entries I’ve found the most fun, since they’re a bit hard to find a few days after the fact:

In which Annie…

–makes fun of three new movie trailers

–peeps a sneak preview of The O.C.

–predicts which celebs could pull off a buzzhawk

–falls asleep in front of Vh1 Classic’s The Vault

–attempts, then fails to follow a lame theme of the letters “de”

–has an IM convo with Michael Slezak about why they’re still watching ABC’s “Brothers & Sisters”

–complains (in jest) about how having a DVR is stressful

–reviews the new Slash/Spinal tap Volkswagen commercials

–wastes an insane amount of time watching TV romance mashups on YouTube

I’ve also been doing recaps of Dancing With the Stars, if anyone cares. (I’d actually prefer if you didn’t watch this show.)

And here’s a link to the EW.com staff picks for The “Bad” Movie I Love. Mine (Don’t Tell Mom the Babysitter’s Dead) is the first one because I’m very cool.

From Straight Talk, the 1992 Dolly Parton “vehicle.”

Dolly: Why are they holding a cocktail party at the aquarium? [emphasis added to “Why” because she said it like “Wahhh” and this made it seem more dramatic. Oh, Southerners.]

Alan: Because rich people like to dress up and be seen in strange places.

That sounds like something you’d say to a child — a throwaway explanation just to make her shut up and quit asking you such silly questions. But it’s actually true! I love it.

A little old lady tried to buy my necklace while she helped me out at the bridal registry counter (holla, Heffa!) at Williams-Sonoma today. I don’t get that. If I bought it for myself, why would I sell it to you? Is this, like, a common practice?

As soon as I told her I’d bought it in Brooklyn, she looked crestfallen. No, no, it’s a cool store! There are two incredibly convenient locations! I tried to explain. But she wasn’t havin’ it.

“Oh, I’ll never go to Brooklyn,” she said.

And that was that. If our conversation was taking place within Nintendo, the screen would have flashed GAME OVER at this point. This was a perfectly normal, able-bodied citizen of Manhattan, flat-out refusing to travel less than five miles to Brooklyn.

She then started trying to find sneaky ways for me to get the necklace to her via a route that did not involve her setting foot in Brooklyn. Maybe she could write down her address, and I could send it to her, and she could send me money (because she didn’t have any cash…. yeah right). Maybe I could buy her one, then bring it back to the store and she’d pay me extra. Like a tip. Like I’m the food delivery guy. And finally she asked the biggie:

“Well, why can’t I have that one, that you’re wearing?”

There were many reasons, which I didn’t really feel like going through. Not that she wouldn’t have been willing to listen. She was clearly bored by her job and had a crush on me. (Some of her pickup lines included “I just love your style!” and “You’re my kind of girl.”)

So I could have whipped out a notepad and outlined specific bullet points of why I couldn’t/didn’t want to take off my necklace and give it to her. Instead, I just stared at her and made a noise that probably resembled “Hehhhhehh.” Imagine the noise Pat, the SNL character, made when he/she was nervous. Mine was in a lower tone. I probably sounded like a trucker.

Now I sort of want to go buy it for her and drop it off next week. It’d be so unlike me. I’d feel like a great humanitarian and she’d be thrilled and tell everyone she knows about the total angel who bought her a necklace.

Seriously, who would refuse to go to Brooklyn? I’m already obsessed with it. Reason 1: The movie theaters are always empty! Check it out (left). Just one of the highlights of my new and improved Brooklyn Life: Leno and I were treated to a private screening of the new L-Lo vehicle Just My Luck.

This movie was horrible on all levels, the most significant of which was the unfortunate presence of Samaire Armstrong (Anna from The O.C.) as one of L-Lo’s nondescript best friends. I gather that she was supposed to be “the quirky one,” which mostly meant a guitar, a lot of fake fur, and hot pink highlights. I don’t understand how this girl keeps getting to act while refusing to enunciate a single word in her life. Wouldn’t someone say something? We’re dying here.

I wasn’t kidding about the 7-Eleven obsession, as evidenced by the huge thingie on a popsicle stick some guy outside the store was handing out. It says “I AM A FAN OF 7-ELEVEN, 23RD STREET AND PARK AVENUE, NEW YORK CITY.” I think the apple shape is a reference to “The Big Apple,” which means “New York City” for all you non-locals. Ha ha. Very cute. I curbed myself at the last minute from shouting at the little man “No way, I totally just wrote about this on my blog!” because I feel like he wouldn’t have cared. Seriously. If someone told me that I’d want to slap her in the face. Sigh. Bloggers. Ew.

Just came home and promptly turned on Footloose, which I DVR’d tonight while at work. I’ve watched the opening sequence, with all the different ’80s shoes dancing (shown at left — yes, I did just really take two pictures of the opening scene from Footloose, thankyouverymuch), at least three times now. I’m in love with all the shoes in this sequence. I wish there was just a storefront with all of these shoes, so I could go up to it and then buy all of them. Would you guys make fun of me if I did the legwarmers/sneakers thing shown in the image to the left? Does it really matter if you would? I don’t care. I think the combo looks fun. And very warm! Yum.

Speaking of yum, I feel like now is as good a time as any to post these two embarrassing photos of Rebecca and me completely devouring huge hero sandwiches at Long Beach a few weekends ago. Yesss. We are so cool. She opted for turkey, while I went with the roast beef. We already had a big bag of Fritos in our Big Brown Bag from home, and although I love me a good turkey sub, I feel turkey doesn’t go as well with Fritos as does RB. Tuna or chicken salad would also have been good. Rebs should be taking notes here, although she looked pretty damn happy with her choice as it was.

Here is a non-eating picture of us on the boardwalk. I was smiling rather normally (for me) during the first three, but quickly realized she was insistent on doing the trademark Rebecca McFarland “Aggghh! Look at me, camera! Catch me in a hilarious moment!” open-mouth gape (OMG), so I grudgingly went along with it for this fourth and final shot. Cute, huh?

We also ran into our Boston College friend and roomie, Shannon. And when I say “ran into,” I mean “saw intentionally because we knew she was lifeguarding at this particular Long Island Beach.” We are such stalkers. But she loved it. I’m proud of her for letting down the sportsbra to avoid nasty tan lines. That’s a kindred spirit right there. Kudos to Shannon.

In Creepy News, I saw the same person two nights in a row while walking down 7th Avenue between 23rd and Bleecker. Last night I saw him a bit north of Gourmet Garage. I stared at him longer than the requisite half-second glance, because he was one of ‘my people,’ it seemed – long messy hair, casual non-stylish outfit, looked hippyish… and right before we crossed paths he gave a little nod/grin. It made my night. (Lame!) It wasn’t necessarily sexual at all. It was just nice to acknowledge someone like that, a sort of “we’re on the same page” glance that was shared. It really put me in the best mood. No big deal, but it made everything so much better at the time. Someone on the mean streets of Manhattan just grinned at me! Wow! I mean, that rarely ever happens. You know how it is.

So now that I’ve seen him twice, it’s just weird. Like, I sort of feel like this is Truman Show and I am the central character. (Imagine, a blogger thinking she’s the center of the universe. Whoa. No way.) It was a random glitch in the Truman-esque system that I saw him twice, like he’d been planted at that point in the city by accident twice in a row. Or maybe it was an intentional move by the producers! Maybe someone wanted me to see this guy two nights in a row and feel great the first night, and a little weirded out the second night. Very weirded out.

I saw him sooner tonight. Meaning, I got to stare at him for at least four seconds before the crucial “passing point” occurred, wondering is this the guy? Could this actually be the same person? And I’m positive it was. Oddly, he was wearing some sort of structured red coat, with gold buttons on the front and down the back. Not a big fan of the red coat. Was it a costume? Does he perform at the Stonewall and then walk up to the 14th Street subway every night? Is he just a madcap free spirit who thought that coat would be a unique fixture of his character?

This time, it was obvious that I was staring at him for at least four seconds, as was previously mentioned. I couldn’t help it, because I found all of this just that weird. He totally knew it. So he started nodding a hello while he was still in front of me, as if to say yes! I’m the same guy! Can you believe it? And I had no idea what to do – I was still pretty happy-slash-mildly-freaked-out from the first night’s encounter – so instead of giving my usual reaction to eye contact on the street (i.e. nothing), I squeaked out this really weird “Hi!”

Fuck!

It was about an octave and a half higher than my voice usually sounds. I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t want to watch/hear this in a surveillance camera playback. (Which I’m sure could be arranged, given that there are 2.5 delis per block around here.) I feel like I totally ruined that coolness of our second encounter that could have been achieved given the coolness of the first… by squeaking out a hello. Gross! Now if we never see each other again (which I kind of hope doesn’t happen), I will have “lost” round two after “winning” round one (when he gave a grin the first time, I didn’t smile, I just stared blankly. Somehow this counts as me winning).

Enough. I have no idea where this is going. I think I’ll go finish Footloose. I’ll leave you with this image, which was photographed on our day at Long Beach. It appears at the base of my spritzer bottle:

I mean, whatever. That’s cool. Thanks for letting us know you’re an equal opportunity employer and everything. The only part I don’t get is “in Michigan.”

This is how nasty I am: I just turned on Super Size Me on Showtime On Demand, simply because doing so gives me the option of looking at McDonald’s food. Since I’ve seen it before and I have an important entry to write, I’m not even technically watching it. It’s just on, in case I feel the need to glance up and look at fries.

This movie had the opposite effect on me as it did on most. I still don’t think McDonald’s is gross. The people who let themselvees become really fat are gross, totally. But not that amazing food. The gooey pies that are so tiny they look like doll food, like an American Girls accessory. Deliciously ambiguous chicken nuggets that forever dwell in possibility. The first bite of a Big Mac, when even the bun is greasy and after you chew, you wonder if it’s weird that something just crunched in your mouth. Don’t worry! It was probably the pickle, and if not, it’s just a harmless “burger knot” that you can politely spit out and lay to rest on the yellow, non-biodegradable wrapper.

What?

Today I’m embarking on a solo three-for-the-price-of-one film festival at the Battery Park Stadium. I’ll buy a ticket for Million Dollar Baby, then dart over to Sideways and The Aviator without ever leaving the theater. Yeah!

The cinema dart is a complicated strategy that requires meticulous planning and stealth, warn my parents, who do this at least once a week at the Quarry 14 in the ‘burbs. What can I say, they’re thrill seekers at their finest. The natural high gets them through those harsh Chicago winters.

They’re totally gonna kill me for posting this and outing them as dirty criminals. “And they seemed like such good people. You’d never know,” their former friends will say, shaking their heads sadly.

But I’m not addicted and obsessive like The Deedles are. I’m just doing the dart (I’ll probably do the Dew at the same time) so that I’ll have seen all the nominated movies before Sunday night. Last night was Hotel Rwanda. Yikes. Is it wrong that all I could think about the entire time was that Don Cheadle was my favorite featured porn star in the greatest movie ever, Boogie Nights? I don’t think so.

I better go fix a sack lunch… and possibly also a barrel dinner. I’m so excited. If my plan doesn’t work, it’s not just me who’ll be disappointed. I’ll feel like I’ve truly let down my parents. That would hurt.

What do you think? Is the cinema dart as daring as I’m making it out to be, or does everyone do it? At least assure me that my proposed triple play is SO much cooler than my parents’ usual double feature.

I just realized that the majority of my conversational humor revolves around the movie Wayne’s World.

Speaking of WW, or any other acronym with a double letter, it pisses me off that there’s no way to type the little-2 symbol for “squared.” I know that you can type “W^2″ like we used to on our TI-82s in high school math, but it’s just not the same. And while it sounds funny and natural to say that something’s “squared” out loud, you can’t write “W squared.” It defeats the purpose and just doesn’t work, much like the bum microwave I insist on keeping around just in case. (To be fair, a bum microwave would be a great place to store crusty-fooded plates in the case of an emergency. The door seals so tightly that I wouldn’t have to worry about rodentia and insectia. Just infectia, I guess. Strike that. Reverse it.)