We're Obsessed: Jason Segel, Summertime, Pope Benedict XVI's Red Loafers

Jason Segel

I saw Forgetting Sarah Marshall twice last weekend. After opening night I was like, "Maybe my favorite Judd Apatow-related movie yet?" - and then the second viewing confirmed that, yes, I love this one even more than my beloved Superbad. Firstly and foremostly, I'm stoked that the two main female characters actually have personalities and neither is a fun-destroying pill like the quintessential Apatovian leading lady. And then there's the Paul Rudd, the Russell Brand, the Jack McBrayer, and the oh-so-lovely Kristin Bell - all just soooo delightful. But in the end it's all about Jason Segel, whom I didn't think I could possibly adore any more intensely after all those years of Freaks and Geeks obsession. And I don't usually fall for piano-playing giants who cry all the time, but Jason's Peter Bretter completely whisked my heart away. I think it must have lots to do with his fondness for Muppets (and, if you've seen the movie and loved it too, you'll be happy to download Peter's Dracula song, which I've listened to waaaaay too many times this week). Or maybe it's just that it's so great to see Jason Segel take the stalker-ish ex-boyfriend role he's played lots before and expand it into something so full of heart and smarts and hangdog glory. I'm so psyched for his Muppet movie! (Liz)

SUMMERTIME EVERYTHING

Walking down the street with the sunshine bouncing off your shoulders, you are a star and the world belongs to you. Instead of having to wear what you don't want, covered up with seventeen layers of more crap you don't want, you can finally wear what you want: shorts! T-shirts! Sundresses! Jeans and sandals! Anything! Your therapist is pleased to see the progress you've made; The Kinks are the Village Green Preservation Society sounds better than ever. Sitting on the floor with the balcony door open wide writing pop songs on an Audion mini-organ so that all the other summer-drunk Montreallers basking in these glorious April afternoons can hear them too. Sitting on a street curb drinking a Tropicalia smoothie (pineapple, banana, raspberries and orange juice) from Aux Vivres is appropriately refreshing. Days taste and smell like apples, ginger, cucumbers, and Kiehl's Pear Tree Corner body cleanser. You walk to the convenience store at 1 AM even though you're totally not out of cigarettes- you just want to FEEL it. Who gives a crap about New Year's Eve? These are the only days of the year when things feel legitimately new, lazing on a sunny afternoon. (Laura)

If you don't want to watch this, you're crazy:

Pope Benedict XVI's red shoes

I'm not a Catholic, nor do I play one on television. But I've been completely obsessed with the Pope's newfound fashion iconicity these days, and most particularly with his bright red Prada loafers! I eat up stories about the "cassock wars" he inspires, his revival of old-school papal fashion, and other such minutiae. But really, I just like seeing pictures of the pope and seeing the red shoes peek out from underneath his robes. It makes me inexplicably happy. I even advised a friend of mine getting married to wear red shoes if she was going for "dramatic effect" at her wedding. I didn't tell her "The Pope does it, too." That seems wrong. (Kat)

Posted by Kat, Liz and Laura in We're Obsessed
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