Hysterical butterflies.

My GOD, it's fucking cold outside! I almost didn't make it out of bed this morning. I huddled under the covers for at least half an hour after my alarm went off (why was it set so early to begin with?), and then the thought of showering was sickly hilarious, and I could hear my joints screaming as I sat in front of the heater. Oh, god. I don't do well with heat, but....I've never lived in a freezing room before. (Except for the time in high school when my room was so ungodly cold and we couldn't figure out why...until someone realized that the top half of my storm window was slightly open. A family of geniuses.)

Anyway, I'm working today, which is EXCELLENT. I've been going completely nuts for the past few days. I'm worried about work and money, as usual. I hate having to worry about that. I feel like I'm on edge all the time...will I be able to pay rent? Won't I? I volunteered for this lifestyle....but that doesn't mean I have to like it. (Whatever.)

So, Broadway is shuddering back into life after the strike. The shows that were supposed to open are finally opening, and I imagine things'll be back to total normality before long.

The Farnsworth Invention opened last night, and here are some things from the NY Times:

"With billionaire parents now producing bar mitzvah celebrations and sweet-16 parties as if they were major motion pictures, it’s only a matter of time before this spare-no-expense approach is applied to their kids’ school projects. Imagine that Mr. Hedge Fund, with money to burn and many favors to call in, imports a crack combination of writer, director and actors to put across Junior’s oral report with envy-making, A-worthy flair. The resulting effort might well be something like “The Farnsworth Invention,” the new play by Aaron Sorkin that had its strike-delayed opening last night at the Music Box Theater. This information-crammed, surface-skimming biodrama about the creators of television suggests nothing so much as a classroom presentation on a seven-figure budget."

Damn, Ben Brantley! This man can write a zinger like no one else alive today. But you know....I sort of agree. The kind of facile nature of the show was what bugged me the most about it, and I think he's right- that it's more like a report- albeit an earnestly presented one- than a drama.
This is big: "Having made a great success in television, Mr. Sorkin knows its pitfalls and limitations inside out. But it’s hard to avoid the impression that, for all its high-reaching ambitions, “The Farnsworth Invention” often shares the glibness and reductionism of which mainstream television is regularly accused."

Yikes.

The view from the office where I'm working (near Union Square) is amazing. I can't really see it from my desk, of course...but it's beautiful from the bathroom. ;) Much like in CFA! I can see the Williamsburg Bridge, which is kind of fun.

Tonight, I'm going to a Yelp Elite event--- oooooh, so fancy. It's of course turning into more of a headache than something fun...but we'll see what happens. Supposedly, there'll be free drinks. Disaster. After that, there will potentially be latkes and singing at my apartment. I hope. I need something to warm that place up.

Finally, the title of this silly post refers to what was going on at my temp agency this morning-- the funny receptionist who shares a name with one of my good friends (always good for a double-take) was bouncing off the walls about some butterflies that he had ordered online. Excuse me-- some caterpillars. Not butterflies yet. He ordered five for the office and five for his sister/niece in Syracuse (yes!), but was realizing that no one was going to be in the office to receive them, and that they might freeze or something. There was also much discussion of releasing the butterflies into the wild, in order to brighten someone's day....this idea was met with a lot of disapproval from a girl waiting to work, who said "If you let them out...they're going to...end...pretty quickly."

Anyway, I told gchatting friends and friend Thom suggested that the sentence "The receptionist was slightly hysterical about some butterflies he had ordered online" might make a good kick-off for a writing exercise. If only my BUSTI kids had looked at life that way.

To end- Justin Knudsen makes me laugh:

me: and what is this business about crispin glover suing zemeckis? why did he do that?the guy is nuts

Justin: i dont know i kind of what to sue him too though for perpetrating The Polar Express
me: oh god yeah
Justin: did you see it? the hobo looks like tom waits. but its Tom Hanks. and the magic hobo doesnt actually do anything, even though he's the only cool thing about it. my sister rented it and made the family watch it. disaster. a trainwreck, if you will.

Walk this way!

So, a few different things of interest this morning. I'm writing to you from a cushy (knock wood) receptionist job somewhere on Sixth Avenue. There's a big impressive fountain in the plaza out front, and the building is a bajillion stories high....but I'm on the fourth floor and consuquently it looks like eternal evening in here. Thanks, skyscrapers. (This is not necessarily one of the items of interest. There are as follows....)

1) YOUNG FRANKENSTEIN GETS SLAMMED! Okay, not slammed, but...it's far, far from a rave in the NY Times. I don't know why, and I didn't even realize this until I read the review last night, but I sort of *wanted* this show to not be good. I mean, I did. The ticket price thing, the fact that I love the movie SO much and think it is perfect, the fact that I really like Mel Brooks but think maybe this movie-to-musical thing has gone on long enough... All of that. Plus, I hate Megan Mullally. Come on. Here are some highlights from the NY Times...starting with the headline:

"Who Put the Trance in Transylvania?"

Bahhhhhhhhhhhh! Ok. Also:

"It also surely has...the largest percentage of gags per scene. Some of those gags, many of which are lifted from the movie, are pretty funny. (O.K., let's be honest: I laughed exactly three times.) There are some enjoyable musical routines. (All right, my count is 2 out of nearly 20.)"

Damn, Ben Brantley. You know how to wound.

Here, from the post, is a seriously stupid sentence:

"It also has a great comic lead in Roger Bart as that virginal Dr. Fronkensteen being transported to the dark side of the moon."

"Great"? We're talking about a guy who is playing a part the TRULY great Gene Wilder originated. Let's not get overly-lovey, please. And virginal? And that spelling? I just don't get it.

Whooo....I was on a major roll of pretension there, but I checked myself before it could get truly bone-crushing. Next time, I'll just let it go.

Also, this: "Well, I understand from the press release that "$25 orchestra seats will be available at most performances." At that price the show would be a bargain, even if the seats are in the orchestra pit. You would even have money left over for a soda during intermission." Really? I mean...I'll go for $25 bucks.

2) So, last week, I worked at an ad agency. One of the guys that also worked there (real job, though, unlike me) is the writer and producer of a cool internet show called The 'Burg, which pokes fun at those loveable hipsters residing in...my neighborhood. Check it out: http://www.theburg.tv If you like dogs, watch the 2nd ep, "myspace." There is a funny funny gag involving a pug.

3) I'm currently stage managing a show! I am a very bad stage manager, take no initiative, and mostly spend my time eating while being on book, which is always a recipe for disaster. It's actually two different shows that go in rep- each show being made of two pieces. One evening is called Circle (it's in the round), and the other is Square (you can guess), and it's a mix of new short plays and collaboratively-created pieces. The people are nice and it's good to be doing something, even if I am a zombie most of the time. On the off chance that a) anyone is reading this mess, and b) said theoretical person should want to come see the show, go to http://www.smarttix.com and search for "mud as man" and it should come up. Or just ask me about it.

Sayonara for now.

It's a numbers game.

Really? Because I'd probably subsitute "stupid" or "fucking absurd" for "numbers."

This place is getting to me, and I have to let it not. It's Friday and I'm exhausted and still sick so anything that isn't great is probably going to ruffle me a little bit. This morning, I received (second-hand) a "complaint" because someone who I'll call N told my supervisor that my "head was down" when she walked by the reception desk yesterday. What? I can think of any number of reasons why my head would have been less-than-erect. Probably because it was too laden down with murderous thoughts and destructive ideas! Bwa ha ha! Really, though-- WHO FUCKING COMPLAINS ABOUT A TEMP RECEPTIONIST?! My whole thing here has been to not let 'em get to me, not let 'em get to me. And after a week and a half...my resolve is fading a little.

My co-reception zog, Matt, said that maybe I'll be asked to come back next week. Yesterday, that sounded like a great idea. Today...not so great.

I'm so worried about money.


Okay, I have to stop writing this because I feel the panicky tears welling in my puffy, under-rested eyes and I'd like to quit while I'm ahead.....after all, I've got 8 more hours to be here today. And all I have for lunch is cereal. I think a more appropriate title for this post would be "A coffe and a java all day."


Ok-- A few hours later, I've calmed down and am editing this. I'm not supposed to use this blog for personal ranting- that's what my ancient, creaking Xanga is for. I'm supposed to use this for pretentious discussions.

So-- here's some snark, fresh and hot off the griddle of The New York Times:

"I passed a night of unmingled wretchedness,” pants the tortured title character in one of many a palpitating passage in Mary Shelley’s gothic novel “Frankenstein.”
After passing a similar night, courtesy of the new musical version of Shelley’s tale that opened last night at 37 Arts, I can only say, “Victor, buddy, I know where you’re coming from.”

Is that great, or what? Hot damn. What if you got a review like that? Jesus. I'd never read the NYT again.

Dunder-Mifflin, this is Pam!

From Hotel Cassiopeia:
JOSEPH [sitting at a cafe table]There are days that I will have
a few donuts
a caramel pudding
two cups of Dutch process cocoa all milk, white bread,
peanut butter and peach jam
a Milky Way candy bar
some chocolate eclairs
a half-dozen icing cakes from Bay West
a peach pie (6 cents)
and a prune twist
and, on other days:
cottage cheese, toast,
bologna, jello,
fresh baked shortcake with creamy chocolate icing
Kool Aidbrownies and cherry Coke
a cinnamon donut
homemade coffee cake
the pink centers of Huntley and Palmer shortcake cookies
pancakes

It's no coincidence that some of my favorite passages from this play and bobrauschenbergamerica are all about food. Or that I'm writing this as my stomach grumbles! I'm working reception at a global ad agency right now. Which means there are some foreign hotties walking around.

In the pretentious update....hmmm. What do I have? Ah, yes-- I just got finished with my duties as production assisstant for the Common Thread Theatre Company's workshop production of Moving Shortly. The show ran for three performances, two of which were completely sold-out, which was fun. A whole bunch of friends came: Katy, Emma, Molly (and here's a SHOUT OUT!), Jade, Juls, Lee, Ava, Duke, Liz...punch me if I'm forgetting anyone. The show went quite well, from a technical/production view-- which is the vew that I, as a bona-fide techie, had for it. Michael and I worked sound/projection and lights, respectively. I haven't really touched a light board since the days of the BRTC, when I ran A Lesson Before Dying. I remember it being very stressful, though that could have had somtehing to do with the fact that cast members were dropping out left and right ALL. THE. TIME. Anyway... There were lots of silly antics in the booth, and Michael and I had a good time. There were lots of stupid scrawlings all over the walls- Michael and I added our own contribution: one of those twist-things that everyone used to draw in middle school, accompanied by "'95!' next to it. We were proud.

This is another line I really loved when I saw the show:

Then Balanchine revived The Somnambulist for me
and in that ballethe always had me exit backwards
because you know
well
because I didn't need to see a doorwayto go through it.

I thought it was VERY Judith Chaffee.

I'm going to see The Farnsworth Invention tonight-- it's a play by Aaron Sorkin, starring Hank Azaria. Jess is working for the producers, so she had a bunch of free ticket opportunities during previews. I'm psyched.

Here is a post that I meant to do the other day, but I'll tack it on here and elaborate:

In weird New York City coincidences part 1,586—

I ran into Rebecca McHugh the other night as I was leaving the Bedford stop. I was walking behind this girl and I thought 'She is so put together. Why can't I dress like that?' and then I realized that it was her. I stopped her and we walked out together—she lives two blocks away from me. Strange, isn't it? Then, yesterday, I saw Meghan Dalton's brother Tim in a coffee shop right near my house. We had a big case of mistaken identities when I tried to talk to him that we eventually cleared up....funny funny.

Michael and Nitz and I watched innings 4-9 of the baseball game the other night. We leapt for joy when Youkilis hit that homer. Matt Rudnicki was in the same bar as us, randomly, and we took a lot of pleasure in watching him from afar as he and some girl drank copious amounts of beer and occasionally flashed us the high-sign. Good fun.

Also, speaking of baseball AND coincidences—at work the other day, I was transcribing some phone calls and in one, a guy was talking about eh revitalization of downtowns. He mentioned two cities, and two cities only: Boston and Denver. Oooooooooh!

There is too much glass in this office. Everyone can see that I'm surfing the internet. Oh, dear.....

Things Coming Up (Most of Which I am Vastly Underqualified or Unprepared For):

-an interview for a position as counterperson/sandwich-maker at a cafe located inside some sort of Scandinavian Cutlural Center (underqualified)
-an interview at a high-power temp agency that demands real skills from the people who work there (underqualified and unprepared)
-an interview with an allegedly sexist (but in my favor!) temp agency (unprepared)
-a trip to BAM to hear Anne Bogart and Charles Mee speak (unprepared)

Plus, I submitted an application to Trader Joe's and underwent a "screening" today. If they want me, they'll call within two weeks.

Meanwhile, my new friend Rachel told me how to make a living as a nude artist's model at colleges. Um...where do I sign up?