Brad Renfro is dead.
RENT is closing.
What is happening to the nineties?! I don't like this at all.
In what is becoming a pattern, I spent the evening in Astoria last night. After having lunch with Katy in Williamsburg, I met Erin by NYU, and we snuck into Tisch ("I'm so sorry! I just don't have my ID with me!") to deliver a present to her friend, went shopping (ridiculous, as usual), and headed back to her apartment to kill some time by....watching Brokeback Mountain. I'm not sure what possessed us to this, and we had very bad attitudes about the proceedings. we mainly spent the time yelling "BOOBS!" and asking each other questions like "Do we get to see any penis in this movie?" Stupid.
Later, I met up with Misters Cowart and Klein at a bar and proceeded to drink a fair amount. It was great to see them and catch up...they're certainly wilder outside the theatre than they are in in. Were were joined eventually by three of their friends, all guys. As Lauren would say- sausagefest. (Motif to this post? Christ.) I stayed out late and had a wonderful time. Then it was back to Erin's the watch SVU (terrifying) and The Simpsons and to terrorize the cat.
Today's greatest hits include shopping at Trader Joe's, buying an amazing t-shirt with a picture of a phrenology head on it, and wandering around Williamsburg muttering to myself, as I am wont to do.
And I turn to the Stray Cats to keep me going.
Oh! This is intersting-- Jane called me this morning to tell me that a weird package came to the house, missing $1.62 in postage, which contained....MY WALLET! The missing one! Weird, right? The return address is something like "Brooklyn Undeliverable Property" and/or the post office. I don't get it. My bank cards are missing (but of course they were canceled immediately), but it seems like most if not all of my other stuff is in there- including my Girl Scouts of America Lifetime Membership card (phew!) AND my student ID. Which I am overjoyed about.
Who ran the iron horse?
Showing posts with label queens. Show all posts
Showing posts with label queens. Show all posts
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
Saturday, December 8, 2007
A healthy eight hours!
From 5:00 am to 1:00 pm!
It's been a while since I've done that. Ah, youth! Too bad tomorrow it'll all be gone, gone, gone!
Work was very silly yesterday. I met up with Craig at around 8:30 in Times Square, which was a terrible idea but also a good idea, and we just wandered around and chatted. I was so happy to see him. He walked me over to the theatre where I saw....
'Things We Want.' It wasn't great by a long shot but it was good enough that I enjoyed myself and didn't fall asleep...which felt like a very real possibility as soon as I sat down. Paul Dano was really pretty good- he had the most to do, sort of. I don't know-- the play itself wasn't good. Josh Hamilton had to play two diamaetrically opposing parts of the same annoying, completely unbelievable character, and he did so in a way that, uh....made my flesh crawl? I couldn't stand him. I guess it served him as the play wore on, but at that point I was so done watching him that I didn't really care. Peter Dinklage had a fun part and got to do a lot of stumbling around and running into things, which people in the audience kept responding to with "Awwwww!," in a "How CUTE!" way. Iiiiiiiiiiiii don't know about that. And Zoe Kazan....her part sucked so much. It had so much promise in the first act and then all of a sudden fifteen minutes later she's walking around with no pants on and pretending to give Josh Hamilton a blowjob. Whatever.
For me, the frustrating thing is....of course I love to go to the theatre, even if it's bad, usually even if I KNOW it's going to bad. I'd usually rather see even bad theatre than do a lot of other things. And I really believe that and feel that, because I think everything has merit, even if it's just to show me what I have to spend the rest of my days combatting. To be dramatic about it. So I see things like this play-- certainly I'd rather watch that than Cats or those readings I saw the other night-- and I dont' expect everything, or really anything, to be perfect, but-- this play had what I thought were some serious, serious issues. Did everyone responsible for getting this production disagree with me? Because the thought that goes through my mind is-- Well, if they liked this piece of crap, then they'll fucking LOVE *my* play!
Which of course has absolutely no basis in logical fact. But you know? I know in my brain that it's all based on a myruiad of factors which have absolutely no part in my life. But in my not-brain, in my...heart? (what?), I don't know, I just think "What I have to say is so much BETTER than this!"
And maybe that's at the core of everyone who is stupid/ballsy/cocky/generous enough to enter into any sort of artistic pursuit. Who the hell knows. It's 2:00 and I just woke up.
After the show, I made the epic trek to Katy's house in Queens. I don't even know where in Queens I was. All I know was that the directions involved things like 'Okay, now you see those train tracks? Walk over them.' I wrote her address down incorrectly and wound up a few blocks from her house, amidst these dark, creepy, overgrown houses with freaky statuary and/or junk in the yard. I forced myself to have a second wind, and the night wound up being very nice-- the Boston caravan arrived around 2, and Pat and Ollie were there when Craig and Nitz arrived. We did Hannukah, and Pat and I each got a birthday cupcake. Everyone was so beyond exhausted that the punchiness level was sky-high, and almost everything made me laugh literally until I was crying. (THAT's what's on the other side of tiredness, Elaine!) Billy drove us home pretty smoothly. I went to bed at 5!
Today, I'm dedicating most of my day to watching Arrested Development with Meg. Because I can-can-can.
It's been a while since I've done that. Ah, youth! Too bad tomorrow it'll all be gone, gone, gone!
Work was very silly yesterday. I met up with Craig at around 8:30 in Times Square, which was a terrible idea but also a good idea, and we just wandered around and chatted. I was so happy to see him. He walked me over to the theatre where I saw....
'Things We Want.' It wasn't great by a long shot but it was good enough that I enjoyed myself and didn't fall asleep...which felt like a very real possibility as soon as I sat down. Paul Dano was really pretty good- he had the most to do, sort of. I don't know-- the play itself wasn't good. Josh Hamilton had to play two diamaetrically opposing parts of the same annoying, completely unbelievable character, and he did so in a way that, uh....made my flesh crawl? I couldn't stand him. I guess it served him as the play wore on, but at that point I was so done watching him that I didn't really care. Peter Dinklage had a fun part and got to do a lot of stumbling around and running into things, which people in the audience kept responding to with "Awwwww!," in a "How CUTE!" way. Iiiiiiiiiiiii don't know about that. And Zoe Kazan....her part sucked so much. It had so much promise in the first act and then all of a sudden fifteen minutes later she's walking around with no pants on and pretending to give Josh Hamilton a blowjob. Whatever.
For me, the frustrating thing is....of course I love to go to the theatre, even if it's bad, usually even if I KNOW it's going to bad. I'd usually rather see even bad theatre than do a lot of other things. And I really believe that and feel that, because I think everything has merit, even if it's just to show me what I have to spend the rest of my days combatting. To be dramatic about it. So I see things like this play-- certainly I'd rather watch that than Cats or those readings I saw the other night-- and I dont' expect everything, or really anything, to be perfect, but-- this play had what I thought were some serious, serious issues. Did everyone responsible for getting this production disagree with me? Because the thought that goes through my mind is-- Well, if they liked this piece of crap, then they'll fucking LOVE *my* play!
Which of course has absolutely no basis in logical fact. But you know? I know in my brain that it's all based on a myruiad of factors which have absolutely no part in my life. But in my not-brain, in my...heart? (what?), I don't know, I just think "What I have to say is so much BETTER than this!"
And maybe that's at the core of everyone who is stupid/ballsy/cocky/generous enough to enter into any sort of artistic pursuit. Who the hell knows. It's 2:00 and I just woke up.
After the show, I made the epic trek to Katy's house in Queens. I don't even know where in Queens I was. All I know was that the directions involved things like 'Okay, now you see those train tracks? Walk over them.' I wrote her address down incorrectly and wound up a few blocks from her house, amidst these dark, creepy, overgrown houses with freaky statuary and/or junk in the yard. I forced myself to have a second wind, and the night wound up being very nice-- the Boston caravan arrived around 2, and Pat and Ollie were there when Craig and Nitz arrived. We did Hannukah, and Pat and I each got a birthday cupcake. Everyone was so beyond exhausted that the punchiness level was sky-high, and almost everything made me laugh literally until I was crying. (THAT's what's on the other side of tiredness, Elaine!) Billy drove us home pretty smoothly. I went to bed at 5!
Today, I'm dedicating most of my day to watching Arrested Development with Meg. Because I can-can-can.
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