a somewhat unremarkable three-day weekend overall, though nice and relaxing. as tommy noted, movies were watched - "million dollar baby" and "mean girls," which i had never seen. if you know me at all, you can guess which film i thought was the vastly superior one. i mean, i liked "million dollar baby" alright, and i thought hilary swank was pretty superb, but the cliches, grizzled voiceovers, emotional maniuplation and the stupid-sport-as-metaphor-for-life genre just didn't do it for me (which is weird, because i'm usually a sucker for that kind of stuff, minus the sports metaphors). plus, i had heard so much about the "twist" partway through the movie that i halfway expected an alien lifespawn to bust through swank's stomach during the climatic boxing match and swallow her opponent whole. but the scene where a partially blind morgan freeman punches out a young whippersnapper with only one glove and no effort was pretty kickass.

a good part of the rest of my weekend was spent shopping for a formal evening gown. you see, a good friend of ours is getting married in a month to a very lovely young woman that i like a lot. i think they'll be very happy, etc etc. thing is: they decided to make their wedding black tie, and (HORROR) i'm also fairly sure that the reception will be dry. at first, i thought dressing up would be fun and glamourous and exciting; now i realize i just have to spend $100+ on a dress that'll hide a thigh-flask.

anyway, after hours at the racks at such glamorous institutions of couture as hecht's department store, i think i found a proper dress (though it's a little too clingy to really wear a thigh-flask; don't worry, i'll bring along a proper-sized clutch instead), but i need my readers' fashion-forward advice. what i've got in hand is a flesh-colored gown with spaghetti straps, some beading, and some gauzey-ish material. it's not totally unlike this dress naomi watts wore to the oscars last year, except, well, a LOT less beading and more of the gauze. maybe this evening i can upload a picture of the actual thing (or beg tommy to take a picture of it today and upload it? eh?).

my questions: does this scream 2004? is it too fancy? is this color-appropriate for a wedding? will i look like one big washed-out blob of flesh? and, for the love of god, WHAT SHOES SHOULD I WEAR?

this is a dire matter. i hope you will pay it the attention it deserves.

UPDATE: here is a picture of the dress hanging from our bedroom door, with animal gaping at it in the background. it's returnable, so make fun of it all you like.

A while ago I wrote about Verizon's efforts to block the city of Philadelphia's plan to offer municipal broadband. Unfortunately this phenomenon seems to be spreading. Legislative enshrinement of private monopolies... catch it!

Alright, the slogan might need to be punched up a little. But the print campaign is coming along nicely: FreePress.net has got a good map showing the progress of this kind of legislation around the country. Hey, Virginia legislators: thanks SO MUCH for saving me from the scourge of cheap internet access. You guys have really been on a roll lately.

Okay, actually the Virginia barriers to municipal broadband are among the least onerous of those of the states with relevant legislation. But still.

If you've been doing your duty as an American media consumer, you're aware of the following recent developments:

• Everyone in Hollywood is a lesbian


• Paris Hilton's Sidekick got hacked


• Despite not living in Hollywood, Paris Hilton is also at least kind of a lesbian (NSFW)

Yes yes, it's all very titillating, but what about the cell phone?!?!

Well, the Sidekick hacking thing happened because SK data is mirrored to T-Mobile's servers. It's a neat feature that lets you use your phone's address book over the web and ensures that you'll never lose your data. Someone broke into that server and could consequently help themselves to a copy of the data on an SK user's phone. The hack affected all T-Mobile SK users, so yes, I too am dreading seeing Gawker post that photo of Aaron bowling I took that one time. I'm sure they'll get to it any day now, and it will be devastating.

But now Paris' voicemail has been hacked, too. Or, more accurately, phreaked, the term of art for hacking phone systems. Interestingly, this was done through means unconnected to the SK data theft. And unsettlingly, the exploit used might be applicable to your voicemail, too.

Kevin Rose has the scoop, but it's simple enough to summarize. There exist various services allowing users to fake Caller ID information -- you dial into a system and it places a call with customized caller ID info, then connects you. This can make for some great pranks.

Unfortunately, Caller ID appears to be the security measure used by T-Mobile, Sprint and perhaps others to let users avoid entering their PIN every time they call to check their messages. So if you want to get into someone's messages you just need to place a spoofed call from their number into the voicemail system -- usually accessible by calling the mobile number in question when you know it won't be picked up. Oof. Not great, guys.

More worrying: the fact that credit card activation is frequently confirmed via Caller ID. Businesses might want to think about leaning on this insecure system a bit less. In the meantime, you might want to turn off automatic voicemail login if you've got any messages you don't want to share with nosy friends.

I caught a little bit of the much-loved Moulin Rouge on TV not too long ago, and I've been meaning to ask: what the hell is wrong with you girls?

It's not that I dislike the actors, or the plotline, or watching celebrities die of tuberculosis. In fact, I even like musicals: I think the Buffy musical episode was great!

But what possible reason is there for the movie's bizarre timing? Or the odd sound effects that accompany the constantly-swooping camerawork? Or the outbursts of "ohmigodthisisSOfunny"-high-school-improv-workshop-style hamminess?

Well, I suppose I shouldn't hope to comprehend the work of an artist capable of creating that goddamn sunscreen song -- that ML director Baz Luhrmann could create an artifact of such bottomless banality makes me think his films ought to be viewed with the same sort of critical eye directed toward, say, the cinematic ouevre of a costume designer.

But really, I don't dislike Moulin Rouge -- I just find it astoundingly strange. Watching it makes me feel like I have a neurological disorder.

I hope everyone had an enjoyable President's Day. I had to work, bike through the rain and lose at trivia, but still had a good day. My secret? Drinking heavily at the end of it. Oh, and Kriston and Susan gave me this awesome shirt which they picked up on their Gotham/Gates getaway. Thanks guys! I'm getting even more spoiled than usual.

Not a lot to report from over the weekend: Julie and Jon came over on both Friday and Saturday night. It was cold. Doing things is hard. So we stayed in and watched movies. Million Dollar Baby was heart-wrenching and all, but having thought about it a bit more, I agree with Catherine's initial assessment: it's a little cliched. C'est la boxing movie. Of the films watched, Mean Girls clearly stands as the more lasting cinematic achievement.