I recently got a site meter for this blog and have been loving it. I got the free, crappy version so it only tells me so much, but one of the things I can find out is where people are reading from-- and I think I know most of the people who read this blog with any sort of regularity, and the locations the meter has been telling me confirm most of those readers...but who is reading from SLOUGH?! Amazing!
Hello, whoever you are. :) Hello, in fact, to anyone that I don't know personally. And of course, hello to those of you I do.
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Third eyes, trips, and TWO TINY DOGS JUST RAN BY
The other day at work, one of my favorite co-workers was talking about of friend of his from home, Japan, who sometimes 'can't go outside because his third eye is too open and it's too hard for him...he sees demons on the street and bad stuff everywhere and he can't handle it.' This was met with derision by my Israeli co-worker (who ardently believes in astrology, incidentally) but I was super into. What makes me think of this is mostly the fact that I, too, have a third eye. It is located below my left ear. I can't see out of it--YET--but it's getting there. I'll update you later.
I venture down South tomorrow! I finished packing this afternoon after much hemming and hawing and obsessing. Of course the part that took the longest was picking out the jewelry. Of course. I am taking the SuperShuttle (how super could it be? My mind turns to Arrested Development, and Tobias-- "Why would I take a limo, when for only twelve dollars I can get to the airport in this van?" to "Are you kidding, another stop?! I paid twelve American dollars for this ride!") from Union Square tomorrow and hopefully I'll get to the airport with plenty of time, etcetera. I printed out my ticket and, allegedly, my boarding pass for tomorrow, so hopefully the process will be somewhat expedited tomorrow. We'll see. From there it's a lot of schlepping, carpooling and then getting to camp at some point in the early evening, sitting down to the first camp dinner at 6:00, and then we're off. I can't believe I'm doing this. This whole thing is sort of insane. I was saying to someone today that I'm not sure when I got so nervous about traveling. I traveled so much by myself when I was abroad-- it wasn't easy as pie, but I managed just fine in Prague, Budapest, all around Scotland....planes, buses, trains. I was stressed then-- and maybe I was as stressed as I have been and just don't remember.
Anyway, one way or another, it's all going to work out and I think it's really going to be good. I was advised to avoid the following things in New Orleans-- some of them are going to be harder than others: vampires, floods (too soon?), inbreeding, teeth tattoos (that's tattoos ON my teeth-- I'm not sure about tattoos OF teeth)... we'll see what happens. And I'm so excited to see Jacob in his (new) element! And of course anticipating stuffing myself to the gills with really delicious food.
This trip. Hoo boy.
I am at work right now....for two and a half more hours. Doing. Nothing. Nothing. Going. On. So. Ridiculous.
Alright, I have to finish up intarweb stuff because I'll be without a computer for a week ("Just like the old days!" says friend...I feel like I'm going back in time in more ways than one. I literally am, I suppose!). I want to put a goofy vacation response up on my gmail but am afraid that Hollywood will come calling and be met with "I'm down South, wearing a frumpy outfit, avoiding conversion!" So we'll see.
Says my West Village-dwelling coworker:
"Gay Day and Halloween. They are the worst."
Goodbye until the 11th of July! Expect pictures and more than you'll want to read when I get back.
I venture down South tomorrow! I finished packing this afternoon after much hemming and hawing and obsessing. Of course the part that took the longest was picking out the jewelry. Of course. I am taking the SuperShuttle (how super could it be? My mind turns to Arrested Development, and Tobias-- "Why would I take a limo, when for only twelve dollars I can get to the airport in this van?" to "Are you kidding, another stop?! I paid twelve American dollars for this ride!") from Union Square tomorrow and hopefully I'll get to the airport with plenty of time, etcetera. I printed out my ticket and, allegedly, my boarding pass for tomorrow, so hopefully the process will be somewhat expedited tomorrow. We'll see. From there it's a lot of schlepping, carpooling and then getting to camp at some point in the early evening, sitting down to the first camp dinner at 6:00, and then we're off. I can't believe I'm doing this. This whole thing is sort of insane. I was saying to someone today that I'm not sure when I got so nervous about traveling. I traveled so much by myself when I was abroad-- it wasn't easy as pie, but I managed just fine in Prague, Budapest, all around Scotland....planes, buses, trains. I was stressed then-- and maybe I was as stressed as I have been and just don't remember.
Anyway, one way or another, it's all going to work out and I think it's really going to be good. I was advised to avoid the following things in New Orleans-- some of them are going to be harder than others: vampires, floods (too soon?), inbreeding, teeth tattoos (that's tattoos ON my teeth-- I'm not sure about tattoos OF teeth)... we'll see what happens. And I'm so excited to see Jacob in his (new) element! And of course anticipating stuffing myself to the gills with really delicious food.
This trip. Hoo boy.
I am at work right now....for two and a half more hours. Doing. Nothing. Nothing. Going. On. So. Ridiculous.
Alright, I have to finish up intarweb stuff because I'll be without a computer for a week ("Just like the old days!" says friend...I feel like I'm going back in time in more ways than one. I literally am, I suppose!). I want to put a goofy vacation response up on my gmail but am afraid that Hollywood will come calling and be met with "I'm down South, wearing a frumpy outfit, avoiding conversion!" So we'll see.
Says my West Village-dwelling coworker:
"Gay Day and Halloween. They are the worst."
Goodbye until the 11th of July! Expect pictures and more than you'll want to read when I get back.
COME ON
The only thing more shudder-inducing than "Baby Borrowers" itself is the ad campaign:
"It's not TV, it's birth control!"
WHAT?!
"It's not TV, it's birth control!"
WHAT?!
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Jimmy Kimmels and Bits.
So The All-For-Nots played on Jimmy Kimmel Live last night, and they were killer! I don't want to get all Larry Hu on you, but if you didn't watch it, and would like to... here's a link to the old YouTube.
AFN on JK!
As I was tagging this, "Jimmy Gortva" came up as a tag I'd previously used. Good lord!
AFN on JK!
As I was tagging this, "Jimmy Gortva" came up as a tag I'd previously used. Good lord!
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
This is a Formica tabletop.
Oh lord. Well, it's futile to hope that I will be able to put down everything that I've been doing lately-- slacker alertttttt. I'll do my best.
So the night after darts and margaritas, I went out with my friend Matt and some of his friends. This is the Matt that I staged managed for back in November, and he is supposed to be going to South Africa at some point this summer to work on a movie. There've been a lot of holdups and now I'm not sure what's happening, but this was a goodbye-for-the-summer party. I worked until ten, then went to meet him at a schmancy uptown lounge where my drink was more than I want to spend on food for a whole day. But I got to hobnob with funny people and feel vaguely special, and hear hilarious stories to be used as blackmail fodder when Matt gets famous and his current become his detractors out of jealousy or bitterness. From there we took a harrowing cab ride to a trashy bar on St. Marks that is owned and presided over by a terrifying person who Michael Peterson and I refer to as Johnny Cage-- this because we spent a scary long ride on the subway sitting across from him, frightened that he was going to kill us. JOhnny Cage seemed appropriate. And then we come to find out that he owns this bar. Of course. Annnyway, at the bar we met up with a whole bunch of Matt's friends from school that I had never met, so there was a lot of "Hi, what do you do? Oh, and where is that?" talk going on, but it was exhausting bc it was hellishly loud in there and I was just yelling and yelling. BU! YEAH, BOSTON! Right. And then it was home again, home again, jiggity jig, to go to sleep around 3 for the second night in a row.
The next day, Erin and Molly and I went to the Brooklyn Flea market in Clinton Hill (um, my new favorite neighborhood....does someone want to give me a cool million so I can set up shop there? Thanks!) and bought various and sundry junk. I bought something amazing. I post a picture later-- that's all I am at liberty to say right now. It was really cool-- lots of good vendors of different varieties, mostly really good stuff. I'll definitely go back. After this, we hit some stoop sales, walked in a very roundabout way to Fort Greene, and then I went over to Chelsea to see Lauren. We gossipped, further worried about how we're going to get kicked out of a camp (now less than a week away!) and ate tacos. Free chips at Burritoville? Satan. Then we went back to my apartment and wrote notes on the flyers for the NYC Sacred Harp All-Day Singing...the issue is that though I know who a lot of people are, they have no idea who I am. Or, as in some cases, I remember them for a very specific, small reason which they have no doubt forgotten-- for example, one guy will live forever in my mind because he publicly declared a song I led a "train wreck." I'm sure he forgot it right after it happened, but....let's just say there might be a horse head in the envelope holding his flyer.
After lots of flyering, I met up with my family that was up from Florida at Spice Market in the meatpacking district. Ooh la la! (Incidentally, Spice Market is where Molly filmed her episode of Gossip Girl [as an extra]. Hilarious.) I can't even think of the last time that I saw my aunt, my uncle, and my cousins-- so it was really great to see them for a little while. My cousin Leah joined, too...I have no excuse for seeing her as infrequently as I do except that I'm lazy. There's a big family party happening this weekend which I can't go to because I'll be en route to Alabama-- so they'll get to see each other more...but I had to do a lot of catching up over one dinner. Our food was funky and good, and the place was really beautiful. My cousins are so grownuppppp, it's really strange. It was a lovely dinner. Afterwards, Leah and I went down to the East Village for a drink. It's nice to hang out with her. Also, I can't stay away from East 4th street if I try, apparently!
On the way home, I had a little bit of a conniption fit/seemingly mysterious emotional incident. I think I was staying up too late too many nights in a row and drinking too much and that it caught up with me. I am not impervious to these forces. Sometimes I forget that if I don't take care of myself, I won't feel good. I mean, duh. But when I'm doing it, that thought doesn't occur to me. But I got home and forced myself to watch Arrested Development until I crashed, and the next morning I forced myself to call Nitz so I wouldn't lay around moping all day. I went to Fort Greene and we lounged in the heat, Craig appeared out of nowhere and Julie gave me an exploding chocolate bar. Big doings, big doings! Then I went back to the burg, rented Fire Walk With Me, and went to Queens to watch it with Erin.
That movie. Is. INSANE.
GIVE ME ALL MY GARMONBOZIA!
Really, it was insane. It was like every terrifying and gross thing from all the episodes of Twin Peaks put together into two hours of nonsensical, maddening, and sometimes anger-inducing footage. Some of it was wonderful, either in the way that the show was great or in a different way. Some of it was awful. Some of it was ridiculous. For some reason, I had it in my head that some of my questions would be answered. Obviously, I was on crack thinking that David Lynch was going to help me out in any way with this movie. I should have known better! It was a lot of Ray Wise, so that was good-- lord knows I love Leland Palmer a lot. But I missed all of my other favorite characters, and it just frustrated me and made me watch the show. Super weird.
And yesterday, I tried to start cleaning/packing/all that shit that I haven't even thought about. I am starting to get nervous about my trip, going to camp, and the attendant logistics. Which I haven't figured out at all. So instead of actually relieving some stress by taking care of things, I shunted it to the side by getting sushi with Craig, lounging in the Sheep's Meadow in Central Park, and then going up up up to 107th street to the million dollar apartment of two New Year's Eve's ago for a birthday party for Therese. It was AMAZING and so many people from school, from a bunch of different years, were there. I haven't seen such a big group of school people since graduation. It was terrific.
And finally....this week, you can see me as an extra in The All-For-Nots! Watch episode 15A and keep your eyes peeled for the disaffected, vaguely lesbian hipster dressed like a sailor...it'll be me. And while we're on the subject of the AFN-- they're playing on Jimmy Kimmel tonight. Amazing! Check it out. (The bad news being that you'll have to endure Mike Meyers before they play, so...be ready.)
I think that's it.
So the night after darts and margaritas, I went out with my friend Matt and some of his friends. This is the Matt that I staged managed for back in November, and he is supposed to be going to South Africa at some point this summer to work on a movie. There've been a lot of holdups and now I'm not sure what's happening, but this was a goodbye-for-the-summer party. I worked until ten, then went to meet him at a schmancy uptown lounge where my drink was more than I want to spend on food for a whole day. But I got to hobnob with funny people and feel vaguely special, and hear hilarious stories to be used as blackmail fodder when Matt gets famous and his current become his detractors out of jealousy or bitterness. From there we took a harrowing cab ride to a trashy bar on St. Marks that is owned and presided over by a terrifying person who Michael Peterson and I refer to as Johnny Cage-- this because we spent a scary long ride on the subway sitting across from him, frightened that he was going to kill us. JOhnny Cage seemed appropriate. And then we come to find out that he owns this bar. Of course. Annnyway, at the bar we met up with a whole bunch of Matt's friends from school that I had never met, so there was a lot of "Hi, what do you do? Oh, and where is that?" talk going on, but it was exhausting bc it was hellishly loud in there and I was just yelling and yelling. BU! YEAH, BOSTON! Right. And then it was home again, home again, jiggity jig, to go to sleep around 3 for the second night in a row.
The next day, Erin and Molly and I went to the Brooklyn Flea market in Clinton Hill (um, my new favorite neighborhood....does someone want to give me a cool million so I can set up shop there? Thanks!) and bought various and sundry junk. I bought something amazing. I post a picture later-- that's all I am at liberty to say right now. It was really cool-- lots of good vendors of different varieties, mostly really good stuff. I'll definitely go back. After this, we hit some stoop sales, walked in a very roundabout way to Fort Greene, and then I went over to Chelsea to see Lauren. We gossipped, further worried about how we're going to get kicked out of a camp (now less than a week away!) and ate tacos. Free chips at Burritoville? Satan. Then we went back to my apartment and wrote notes on the flyers for the NYC Sacred Harp All-Day Singing...the issue is that though I know who a lot of people are, they have no idea who I am. Or, as in some cases, I remember them for a very specific, small reason which they have no doubt forgotten-- for example, one guy will live forever in my mind because he publicly declared a song I led a "train wreck." I'm sure he forgot it right after it happened, but....let's just say there might be a horse head in the envelope holding his flyer.
After lots of flyering, I met up with my family that was up from Florida at Spice Market in the meatpacking district. Ooh la la! (Incidentally, Spice Market is where Molly filmed her episode of Gossip Girl [as an extra]. Hilarious.) I can't even think of the last time that I saw my aunt, my uncle, and my cousins-- so it was really great to see them for a little while. My cousin Leah joined, too...I have no excuse for seeing her as infrequently as I do except that I'm lazy. There's a big family party happening this weekend which I can't go to because I'll be en route to Alabama-- so they'll get to see each other more...but I had to do a lot of catching up over one dinner. Our food was funky and good, and the place was really beautiful. My cousins are so grownuppppp, it's really strange. It was a lovely dinner. Afterwards, Leah and I went down to the East Village for a drink. It's nice to hang out with her. Also, I can't stay away from East 4th street if I try, apparently!
On the way home, I had a little bit of a conniption fit/seemingly mysterious emotional incident. I think I was staying up too late too many nights in a row and drinking too much and that it caught up with me. I am not impervious to these forces. Sometimes I forget that if I don't take care of myself, I won't feel good. I mean, duh. But when I'm doing it, that thought doesn't occur to me. But I got home and forced myself to watch Arrested Development until I crashed, and the next morning I forced myself to call Nitz so I wouldn't lay around moping all day. I went to Fort Greene and we lounged in the heat, Craig appeared out of nowhere and Julie gave me an exploding chocolate bar. Big doings, big doings! Then I went back to the burg, rented Fire Walk With Me, and went to Queens to watch it with Erin.
That movie. Is. INSANE.
GIVE ME ALL MY GARMONBOZIA!
Really, it was insane. It was like every terrifying and gross thing from all the episodes of Twin Peaks put together into two hours of nonsensical, maddening, and sometimes anger-inducing footage. Some of it was wonderful, either in the way that the show was great or in a different way. Some of it was awful. Some of it was ridiculous. For some reason, I had it in my head that some of my questions would be answered. Obviously, I was on crack thinking that David Lynch was going to help me out in any way with this movie. I should have known better! It was a lot of Ray Wise, so that was good-- lord knows I love Leland Palmer a lot. But I missed all of my other favorite characters, and it just frustrated me and made me watch the show. Super weird.
And yesterday, I tried to start cleaning/packing/all that shit that I haven't even thought about. I am starting to get nervous about my trip, going to camp, and the attendant logistics. Which I haven't figured out at all. So instead of actually relieving some stress by taking care of things, I shunted it to the side by getting sushi with Craig, lounging in the Sheep's Meadow in Central Park, and then going up up up to 107th street to the million dollar apartment of two New Year's Eve's ago for a birthday party for Therese. It was AMAZING and so many people from school, from a bunch of different years, were there. I haven't seen such a big group of school people since graduation. It was terrific.
And finally....this week, you can see me as an extra in The All-For-Nots! Watch episode 15A and keep your eyes peeled for the disaffected, vaguely lesbian hipster dressed like a sailor...it'll be me. And while we're on the subject of the AFN-- they're playing on Jimmy Kimmel tonight. Amazing! Check it out. (The bad news being that you'll have to endure Mike Meyers before they play, so...be ready.)
I think that's it.
Saturday, June 21, 2008
Maybe I Just Don't See The Reason.
But...
Well, I'm certifiably intoxicated. Let's see how many (if any) typographical errors I make. Tonight, I "worked" by seeing a show, then went out for Mexican and margaritas with Emma and Matt afterwards. Delicious and way, way too much. There was a brief downpour; service was bad; Kurt Vonnegut says that semicolons are "transvestite hermaphrodites that do nothing except prove you've been to college." Sue me, Kurt. I've been to college.
Craig met up with us and we eventually extricated ourselves from the morass that is Mary Ann's on Second Avenue. We then took a detour into Alphabet City, Emma got her ass groped, and we wound up back on Second Avenue at a nondescript "Irish" bar, playing darts. I am a very, very bad darts player. I had several beers, and now my fingertips are refusing to cooperate.
In the words of the Raconteurs-- should we call it a day? Yeah? Would that be okay?
Well, I'm certifiably intoxicated. Let's see how many (if any) typographical errors I make. Tonight, I "worked" by seeing a show, then went out for Mexican and margaritas with Emma and Matt afterwards. Delicious and way, way too much. There was a brief downpour; service was bad; Kurt Vonnegut says that semicolons are "transvestite hermaphrodites that do nothing except prove you've been to college." Sue me, Kurt. I've been to college.
Craig met up with us and we eventually extricated ourselves from the morass that is Mary Ann's on Second Avenue. We then took a detour into Alphabet City, Emma got her ass groped, and we wound up back on Second Avenue at a nondescript "Irish" bar, playing darts. I am a very, very bad darts player. I had several beers, and now my fingertips are refusing to cooperate.
In the words of the Raconteurs-- should we call it a day? Yeah? Would that be okay?
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
I bet you check it now!
I will sing "Violet" all day today for two different reason:
1) Apparently Cyd Charisse just died.
2) You know how sometimes cats freak out and try to run but do that scramble-y thing with their feet before they actually cover any ground? Imagine a little cat doing that... on your face. You are imagining what happened to me last night. So while it didn't take an axe-blade to split my face in two, I *could* use some Bergman cheekbones. Thank you, Rory "Slash" Calhoun.
1) Apparently Cyd Charisse just died.
2) You know how sometimes cats freak out and try to run but do that scramble-y thing with their feet before they actually cover any ground? Imagine a little cat doing that... on your face. You are imagining what happened to me last night. So while it didn't take an axe-blade to split my face in two, I *could* use some Bergman cheekbones. Thank you, Rory "Slash" Calhoun.
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
I am falling behind and I actually have things to record! BUt for now, I'll just tell you something that happened to me yesterday.
I came out of the subway and was on the NE corner of Bedford and N. 10th, and a construction guy sitting outside the corner store yelled the following at me:
"Are those real?! Fuckin' BEAUTIFUL!"
!!! What a ridiculous and hilarious thing to yell! Gordie's gf Grace happened to be coming out of Anna Maria pizza at that same moment, and she said "Anna! Why are you like this?" and made a goofy, jaw-hanging face. I told my friend Matt and his response was "I assume he wasn't talking about your knockoff designer shoes?"
Too good.
I came out of the subway and was on the NE corner of Bedford and N. 10th, and a construction guy sitting outside the corner store yelled the following at me:
"Are those real?! Fuckin' BEAUTIFUL!"
!!! What a ridiculous and hilarious thing to yell! Gordie's gf Grace happened to be coming out of Anna Maria pizza at that same moment, and she said "Anna! Why are you like this?" and made a goofy, jaw-hanging face. I told my friend Matt and his response was "I assume he wasn't talking about your knockoff designer shoes?"
Too good.
Thursday, June 12, 2008
White stone!
I had a truly excellent day today, filled with fun, sun, friends, junk food, and even a little bit of good news on the "what I'm supposed to be doing here in NYC" front.
And I found a four-leafed clover!
More to come. Last revelation: The Hulk seems to be a nevernude.
And I found a four-leafed clover!
More to come. Last revelation: The Hulk seems to be a nevernude.
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
good honest dirty hippie fun
Today was absolutely brutal. One of my many fatal weaknesses is my complete intolerance for the heat. I'd say it's my tragic flaw, but my weakness for candy probably is closer to qualifying for that elite title. That or my love of The Osmonds. Anyway....my moaning and groaning and repining today paid off in a SPECTACULAR thunderstorm just now! Before the rain, the wind kicked up and blew so hard through the windows that plastic dishes were literally flying out of the dish drainer. My bedroom door, which either doesn't close or doesn't open was in a doesn't close phase, which meant it was slamming open and closed repeatedly. It even shattered two of the Chinese peppers on the string hanging on the doorframe. Totally unexpectedly, amidst this pre-apocalypse wind, Greg showed up! He said "It's crazy out there. The wind is insane. There's sand and dirt blowing all through the air. I had to get off my bike. It's insane. LET'S GO WATCH."
So Greg, Aldo and I walked to the water (common sense was obviously not a big part of this venture) as it started to pour. The raindrops were huge and cold and lit up by the lightning-- they looked totally silver. Beautiful. The lightning was amazing. I love a good thunderstorm. And shivering felt great, drenched to the bone. I was wearing a dress, which supports my casual theory that whenever I try to look good, nature exacts revenge on me, saying "Who do you think you are?!", but this time I didn't give a fuck.
And now I'm back in the apartment, where it is still sweltering, but I somehow feel much better.
Things are happening. Maybe one of these days I'll do any of the number of things that I know I need to do.
So Greg, Aldo and I walked to the water (common sense was obviously not a big part of this venture) as it started to pour. The raindrops were huge and cold and lit up by the lightning-- they looked totally silver. Beautiful. The lightning was amazing. I love a good thunderstorm. And shivering felt great, drenched to the bone. I was wearing a dress, which supports my casual theory that whenever I try to look good, nature exacts revenge on me, saying "Who do you think you are?!", but this time I didn't give a fuck.
And now I'm back in the apartment, where it is still sweltering, but I somehow feel much better.
Things are happening. Maybe one of these days I'll do any of the number of things that I know I need to do.
never turn back!
as of a few minutes ago, i have my plane tickets for my trip below the mason-dixon. leaving the 30th of june to atlanta, then to anniston, alabama--departing new orleans on july 11th. oh my gosh. excuse me while i commence panicking. ok, ok-- excited panicking. more panicking over where and how i'm going to get the church-mouse clothes i feel like i have to wear, and how i'm going to avoid fainting dead from the heat every time i move a muscle.
217!
217!
Friday, June 6, 2008
your man in the electric city...
i'm at home, and it sure is nice. as much as i don't want to live here, boy, is it fine to visit! sunlight, windows, no fourth-floor walkup, my beloved slinky by my side, all my records, a non-slanting floor. grass! trees! the overgrown pool next door, mr. dugan and mr. ziskin at the high school...old letters in a box on my bookshelf to read and smile at. food! ha! a seersucker bathrobe that i conned off my brother, a pasticiotti from the florentine in utica (wasn't i just talking about that?), lunch at peter pause with my grandparents, my mom and my cousin...a trip to PRICE CHOPPER!! reliable urchins on eastern avenue. YES. a sighting of the albino girls across the street and i will be set set set. (ret-set-set?)
i have two guests at the house right now, two singers from RI. they sat in the kitchen as my mom and i hustled and bustled around making things. read: i took up space, spilled flour on the counter, and broke measuring cups as my mom made a cake for me to take to the singing tomorrow. actually, i WAS busy making jell-o to take to the brunch i'm going to on sunday-- which will be followed by the flag day parade. what is the jell-o in the shape of this time? well, the united states of america, natch! it's creamsicle orange and is guar-an-TEED to be patriotically delicious. (manhattan doesn't exist in it.) look for pictures later.
right now, marvin hamlisch records are beckoning to me and slinky is perched on the table beside my bed. cares, begone! worries, flee! i guess that's the hope, at least.
ah, schenec.
i have two guests at the house right now, two singers from RI. they sat in the kitchen as my mom and i hustled and bustled around making things. read: i took up space, spilled flour on the counter, and broke measuring cups as my mom made a cake for me to take to the singing tomorrow. actually, i WAS busy making jell-o to take to the brunch i'm going to on sunday-- which will be followed by the flag day parade. what is the jell-o in the shape of this time? well, the united states of america, natch! it's creamsicle orange and is guar-an-TEED to be patriotically delicious. (manhattan doesn't exist in it.) look for pictures later.
right now, marvin hamlisch records are beckoning to me and slinky is perched on the table beside my bed. cares, begone! worries, flee! i guess that's the hope, at least.
ah, schenec.
Thursday, June 5, 2008
i need to read this ten more times.
sam shepard says:
Now lemme get this straight
You say
You're tortured because you can't write
Or
You can't write because you're tortured
You say
These times have made you cynical
Or
These times confirm your cynicism
Now lemme say one thing
I'd rather rope steers
Than talk politics with you
I'd rather get skunk drunk
Under a goose-neck trailer
Your despair is more boring
Than The Merv Griffin Show
Your sniveling whine
Your dime-a-dozen solutions to crime
Get off your tail and cook
Do time
Anything
But don't burn mine
Now lemme get this straight
You say
You're tortured because you can't write
Or
You can't write because you're tortured
You say
These times have made you cynical
Or
These times confirm your cynicism
Now lemme say one thing
I'd rather rope steers
Than talk politics with you
I'd rather get skunk drunk
Under a goose-neck trailer
Your despair is more boring
Than The Merv Griffin Show
Your sniveling whine
Your dime-a-dozen solutions to crime
Get off your tail and cook
Do time
Anything
But don't burn mine
Chew every word.
If I was King Lear, this is how I would describe when you could next find me buying sushi from Trader Joe's again: never, never, never, never, NEVER! (Whenever I think of that line, I think of poor Peregrine Devlin saying it at the end of 'Theatre of Blood,' as the knives are coming towards his eyes! Aie!) I don't know why I buy it-- ever since Catherine, illustrious bassist for even-more-illustrious ska band extraordinaire Captain Destructo and the Armageddon Horns, went on a twenty-minute rant about how shitty it is (this is nigh on four years ago, mind), I've had some sick compulsion to try to prove her wrong. Catherine will always be right.
This mugginess is killing me already. I sweat doing nothing. Yesterday, I went to yoga and every time I did a downward dog, I wad blinded by my own sweat rolling into my eyes. Ugh. Yoga was a farewell date for Katy and me-- she heads to Rio for three months on Sunday. Today I took a nice stroll around Soho/into Little Italy (reminiscing about Schenec's own little Italy, of course: though it hasn't been nearly as impressive since the gay bar Blythwood closed three years ago, a restaurant, two bakeries [one of which really only deals in lemon ice and mob hits, as far as I'm concerned], a biker bar and a funeral home DO constitute a cultural district of sorts...right?); saw a lot of rich, good-looking people and hated every one of them (I'll never be anything but a stormbird in various stages of disguise, I guess); made mad dashes to the Strand (for "When You Are Engulfed in Flames" by David Sedaris), Fishs Eddy (eeeeek father's day presents) and Trader Joe's (accompanied by anxiety...assuaged when the girl directing people to registers told me that my shirt was sassy) and NOW, now, millions of parentheses later, I am at work for the most pointless shift ever. Ending at TEN.
That was really obnoxious. Congratulate yourself if you actually read that.
A few nights ago I saw "The Country Girl" on Bway. Obviously I'd wanted to see it since it was announced months and months ago, because I want to see anything by Mr. Odets. I bought the script at a bookstore in my neighborhood shortly after moving to NY, but never read it. And then I dragged my feet about getting tickets, and had all but forgotten about it. And....I don't know, maybe it would have been better that way. I certainly enjoyed going, I always enjoy seeing stuff even it's crap and I wind up infuriated ie "Rafta, Rafta" at the New Group a few weeks ago. It was wonderful to see Frances McDormand. I think she's a really good fit for this type of play, and I'd love to see her play Bessie Berger in "Awake and Sing!".... in about twenty years. I think she'd be fantastic. Morgan Freeman did not thrill me in any way. Peter Gallagher was doing a sort of schticky, slicked-back hair, smooth-talking turn, but I can't say I didn't enjoy it at least a little bit. Please. I have to fight the urge to imitate Jennifer Jason Leigh's speech patterns from "The Hudsucker Proxy" every time I open my mouth, see?
Tommorrow I'm getting on a bus in the wee hours of the morning, getting picked up in Albany (Desolation Station, eh, J. Knudsen?) by G-pa, hopefully conning my gparents into taking me and Maddy to lunch at Peter Pause, swinging by the old alma mater to get the latest gossip from Mssrs. Dugan and Ziskin, and then, HOPEFULLY, logging some quality time on the floor of my room listening to Hair and Elvis Costello on vinyl with Slinky. Phew. And then begins the extravaganza-- Albany Area All-Day Singing on Saturday, social afterwards, then brunch/singing/Flag Day parade at Jesse's in Troy (Collar City for those in the know) on Sunday.
If you made it through this mess, look at these amazing photos as a reward (thanks to Boing Boing):
One with Dinos
One with a Monocle (bought at Daffy's?)
Amazing.
This mugginess is killing me already. I sweat doing nothing. Yesterday, I went to yoga and every time I did a downward dog, I wad blinded by my own sweat rolling into my eyes. Ugh. Yoga was a farewell date for Katy and me-- she heads to Rio for three months on Sunday. Today I took a nice stroll around Soho/into Little Italy (reminiscing about Schenec's own little Italy, of course: though it hasn't been nearly as impressive since the gay bar Blythwood closed three years ago, a restaurant, two bakeries [one of which really only deals in lemon ice and mob hits, as far as I'm concerned], a biker bar and a funeral home DO constitute a cultural district of sorts...right?); saw a lot of rich, good-looking people and hated every one of them (I'll never be anything but a stormbird in various stages of disguise, I guess); made mad dashes to the Strand (for "When You Are Engulfed in Flames" by David Sedaris), Fishs Eddy (eeeeek father's day presents) and Trader Joe's (accompanied by anxiety...assuaged when the girl directing people to registers told me that my shirt was sassy) and NOW, now, millions of parentheses later, I am at work for the most pointless shift ever. Ending at TEN.
That was really obnoxious. Congratulate yourself if you actually read that.
A few nights ago I saw "The Country Girl" on Bway. Obviously I'd wanted to see it since it was announced months and months ago, because I want to see anything by Mr. Odets. I bought the script at a bookstore in my neighborhood shortly after moving to NY, but never read it. And then I dragged my feet about getting tickets, and had all but forgotten about it. And....I don't know, maybe it would have been better that way. I certainly enjoyed going, I always enjoy seeing stuff even it's crap and I wind up infuriated ie "Rafta, Rafta" at the New Group a few weeks ago. It was wonderful to see Frances McDormand. I think she's a really good fit for this type of play, and I'd love to see her play Bessie Berger in "Awake and Sing!".... in about twenty years. I think she'd be fantastic. Morgan Freeman did not thrill me in any way. Peter Gallagher was doing a sort of schticky, slicked-back hair, smooth-talking turn, but I can't say I didn't enjoy it at least a little bit. Please. I have to fight the urge to imitate Jennifer Jason Leigh's speech patterns from "The Hudsucker Proxy" every time I open my mouth, see?
Tommorrow I'm getting on a bus in the wee hours of the morning, getting picked up in Albany (Desolation Station, eh, J. Knudsen?) by G-pa, hopefully conning my gparents into taking me and Maddy to lunch at Peter Pause, swinging by the old alma mater to get the latest gossip from Mssrs. Dugan and Ziskin, and then, HOPEFULLY, logging some quality time on the floor of my room listening to Hair and Elvis Costello on vinyl with Slinky. Phew. And then begins the extravaganza-- Albany Area All-Day Singing on Saturday, social afterwards, then brunch/singing/Flag Day parade at Jesse's in Troy (Collar City for those in the know) on Sunday.
If you made it through this mess, look at these amazing photos as a reward (thanks to Boing Boing):
One with Dinos
One with a Monocle (bought at Daffy's?)
Amazing.
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
Also:
Why do I read things that contain quotes like this? Who IS this woman? Where is her soul?!
"This is an absolutely huge, huge story for us," said Sarah Ivens, editor in chief of OK! magazine. "Essentially you have two of the most beautiful, famous people in the world. We've all seen they've had one baby, Shiloh, and it is the coolest, most adorable baby on the planet. And this time they're having two? It can't get any better."
Someone just came into work and I introduced myself to her. She said back "Ayana?"
"This is an absolutely huge, huge story for us," said Sarah Ivens, editor in chief of OK! magazine. "Essentially you have two of the most beautiful, famous people in the world. We've all seen they've had one baby, Shiloh, and it is the coolest, most adorable baby on the planet. And this time they're having two? It can't get any better."
Someone just came into work and I introduced myself to her. She said back "Ayana?"
empanada, turnover!
These days have been good. The weather is starting to oppress me. I need a fan on me at all times. (Can you send some fans up to me?)
Saturday afternoon was everything I wanted it to be. It's nice when things work out that way.
Saturday night found me at the Beer Garden at Bohemian Hall in Astoria to celebrate Jimmy's 24th birthday. It was a collection of his friends that I'd mostly never met, as well as Erin, of course. Try as I might, I drank more than I wanted to....they make it too easy there! Whatever. It was way less drunken than the last time I was there, no one was injured, I crashed on their couch, and all was well. We made a stop at the Neptune Diner on our way back to the apartment-- last time we were at the B.G., we tried to go into the Neptune but they wouldn't let us. Now I know why-- in Erin's words, there's something weirdly wholesome and family-y about it, even at 2:00 am. Our waiter was bizarre and had a talon. He mocked Jimmy's decaf coffee and seated us as far away from civilization as possible. Jimmy ordered the "Neptune Banana Royale" which only now is making me think of "Battle Royale"....and as far as dessert items go, if anything could remind me of Japanese school-child carnage, it MIGHT be that. Anyway, I had a lot of coffee and some pie and Erin and I wound each other up about Twin Peaks and I posed for a million pictures and a million more on the stumble home, where we proudly showcased the fruits of our petty larceny at the Garden. Someone said "Why would you steal those glasses?" and we couldn't really understand the question.
What else have I been doing? Ah. The other night, I met up with Nitzan and Katy in the W.V., we were joined by Craig, and then we went to see Harmony Korine's deranged "Mr. Lonely" at the IFC Center. It was bizarre and over-long, but amusing and engaging for almost the entire thing. Werner Herzog played this insane priest in it and that was really almost worth it by itself. Diego Luna dancing like Wacko Jacko and yelling "YOU CAN LIVE FOREVER!" in the faces of old people was pretty good, too. Then I bought circus peanuts, Craig and I went to a record store where neither of us bought anything. That didn't matter, though, as soon as Craig said "Did you know that there is a really fat cat in this store?" It was super-fat. I petted it. It bit me. Another comrade makes the excellent point-- "Well, how do you think he got so fat?!"
The night before, I took a short walk across McCarren Park to see The All-For-Nots at Matchless. It was my first time in Matchless, and I liked it. Nitz accompanied me, and Craig met us a little later. As neither of them have *really* watched more than two or three episodes of the show, they didn't really know what to expect...but we had a good good time. And they signed the mailing list. :) It was fun to see the AFN in Brooklyn...close to home is nice, of course. And also cool.
The only other thing worth mentioning is that in an effort to expand our crafting empire, Erin and I have branched out into making things from shrink plastic...something that apparently everyone else in the world did as children, but we never got around to doing. Slinky Calhoun will soon be full of the fruits of our labors.
I'm going home this weekend for the Albany Area All-Day Singing. It's supposed to be 90 degrees. I know that I want to be in an old building in Voorheesville in that kind of heat!
Saturday afternoon was everything I wanted it to be. It's nice when things work out that way.
Saturday night found me at the Beer Garden at Bohemian Hall in Astoria to celebrate Jimmy's 24th birthday. It was a collection of his friends that I'd mostly never met, as well as Erin, of course. Try as I might, I drank more than I wanted to....they make it too easy there! Whatever. It was way less drunken than the last time I was there, no one was injured, I crashed on their couch, and all was well. We made a stop at the Neptune Diner on our way back to the apartment-- last time we were at the B.G., we tried to go into the Neptune but they wouldn't let us. Now I know why-- in Erin's words, there's something weirdly wholesome and family-y about it, even at 2:00 am. Our waiter was bizarre and had a talon. He mocked Jimmy's decaf coffee and seated us as far away from civilization as possible. Jimmy ordered the "Neptune Banana Royale" which only now is making me think of "Battle Royale"....and as far as dessert items go, if anything could remind me of Japanese school-child carnage, it MIGHT be that. Anyway, I had a lot of coffee and some pie and Erin and I wound each other up about Twin Peaks and I posed for a million pictures and a million more on the stumble home, where we proudly showcased the fruits of our petty larceny at the Garden. Someone said "Why would you steal those glasses?" and we couldn't really understand the question.
What else have I been doing? Ah. The other night, I met up with Nitzan and Katy in the W.V., we were joined by Craig, and then we went to see Harmony Korine's deranged "Mr. Lonely" at the IFC Center. It was bizarre and over-long, but amusing and engaging for almost the entire thing. Werner Herzog played this insane priest in it and that was really almost worth it by itself. Diego Luna dancing like Wacko Jacko and yelling "YOU CAN LIVE FOREVER!" in the faces of old people was pretty good, too. Then I bought circus peanuts, Craig and I went to a record store where neither of us bought anything. That didn't matter, though, as soon as Craig said "Did you know that there is a really fat cat in this store?" It was super-fat. I petted it. It bit me. Another comrade makes the excellent point-- "Well, how do you think he got so fat?!"
The night before, I took a short walk across McCarren Park to see The All-For-Nots at Matchless. It was my first time in Matchless, and I liked it. Nitz accompanied me, and Craig met us a little later. As neither of them have *really* watched more than two or three episodes of the show, they didn't really know what to expect...but we had a good good time. And they signed the mailing list. :) It was fun to see the AFN in Brooklyn...close to home is nice, of course. And also cool.
The only other thing worth mentioning is that in an effort to expand our crafting empire, Erin and I have branched out into making things from shrink plastic...something that apparently everyone else in the world did as children, but we never got around to doing. Slinky Calhoun will soon be full of the fruits of our labors.
I'm going home this weekend for the Albany Area All-Day Singing. It's supposed to be 90 degrees. I know that I want to be in an old building in Voorheesville in that kind of heat!
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