I love teh font comic sans!!!!111 lolz
Rachel: That's a joke?
Jesse: That's...at least four jokes.
Monday, February 11, 2008
Friday, February 8, 2008
All hail the Rat King.
Yesterday, I got off at Lorimer instead of Bedford in order to spice up my life a little bit. I walked down N.9th and saw the following: an old-ish guy pulled his car over, blaring "I Will Survive," got out, and left the door open. A younger guy crossed the street and waved at him, saying "Hi." Oldy says "I just gotta dance!" Youngy says "I can see that!" and goes on his way. Oldy dances up a storm. I walked all the way down the block, turned around, and he was still dancing. Ava says: "People sit at their typewriters for hours trying to come up with a line like 'I just gotta dance!' and it never happens!"
Please look at this. Unbelievably horrifying, wonderful, hilarious, and weird.
Last night, Erin and I saw "In Bruges," the Martin McDonagh movie. It was weirdly disjointed and disappointing in some ways....it didn't feel like a cohesive whole, really, and we kept looking at each other and making awkward faces because of the totally over-the-top-in-a-new-and-bad-way insults/racial slurs/violent comments in it. Whatever. I love M. M. but I think he might be going over the deep end. Whatever. Ralph Fiennes is Voldemort. That's all.
The night before, I went to 59E59 to see Slaughterhouse-Five. I'd wanted to see it, even though the reviews weren't that great and blah blah blah. I really enjoyed it-- it was scrappy and kind of a mess and sometimes made almost no sense, but I had an infinitely more interesting time there than at the glossy, well-produced and STUPID show I saw a few days earlier at the Connelly. Of course. Some of the acting was really pretty good, though in one case I think it was just the actor being himself.
Uh....what else. The other day I was walking to work and there was this really crazy homeless guy wailing and yelling on the street. As I walked by I swear to god he yelled 'DARKWING DUUUUUUUUUUCK!'
Yesterday, when I got home, there was a page of a book right in the doorway of my building. Hoping to attach some significance to it, I picked it up tos ee what it was. It was from "German Stories and Tales," and of COURSE, it was from Death in Venice. It took a second to figure out. What this could mean, I do not know. But it was weird.
Yesterday, I met up with Julie and Nitz after their rehearsal, saw Craig for a few minutes, went to lunch with the ladies, then went to Smooch and ate cake for a few hours with Nitz. Spending money, eating, wasting time....high society for one day. Please.
Last night I went to Kettle O'Fish in the Village for round two of Middle Earth, the new BU extravaganza gathering excuse-for-fun. It was a rip-roaring success, and I saw a ton of old friends. I got a little attention for my mug shot in Time magazine, which of course made me secretly happy. Some of the MUDasMAN gang showed up, which always makes my day approx. a bajillion times better. They promised to come to The Civil Wargasm. I'm getting a little bit excited.
Carnivale continues to make my life simultaneously better and worse. That's all I can say right now.
Please look at this. Unbelievably horrifying, wonderful, hilarious, and weird.
Last night, Erin and I saw "In Bruges," the Martin McDonagh movie. It was weirdly disjointed and disappointing in some ways....it didn't feel like a cohesive whole, really, and we kept looking at each other and making awkward faces because of the totally over-the-top-in-a-new-and-bad-way insults/racial slurs/violent comments in it. Whatever. I love M. M. but I think he might be going over the deep end. Whatever. Ralph Fiennes is Voldemort. That's all.
The night before, I went to 59E59 to see Slaughterhouse-Five. I'd wanted to see it, even though the reviews weren't that great and blah blah blah. I really enjoyed it-- it was scrappy and kind of a mess and sometimes made almost no sense, but I had an infinitely more interesting time there than at the glossy, well-produced and STUPID show I saw a few days earlier at the Connelly. Of course. Some of the acting was really pretty good, though in one case I think it was just the actor being himself.
Uh....what else. The other day I was walking to work and there was this really crazy homeless guy wailing and yelling on the street. As I walked by I swear to god he yelled 'DARKWING DUUUUUUUUUUCK!'
Yesterday, when I got home, there was a page of a book right in the doorway of my building. Hoping to attach some significance to it, I picked it up tos ee what it was. It was from "German Stories and Tales," and of COURSE, it was from Death in Venice. It took a second to figure out. What this could mean, I do not know. But it was weird.
Yesterday, I met up with Julie and Nitz after their rehearsal, saw Craig for a few minutes, went to lunch with the ladies, then went to Smooch and ate cake for a few hours with Nitz. Spending money, eating, wasting time....high society for one day. Please.
Last night I went to Kettle O'Fish in the Village for round two of Middle Earth, the new BU extravaganza gathering excuse-for-fun. It was a rip-roaring success, and I saw a ton of old friends. I got a little attention for my mug shot in Time magazine, which of course made me secretly happy. Some of the MUDasMAN gang showed up, which always makes my day approx. a bajillion times better. They promised to come to The Civil Wargasm. I'm getting a little bit excited.
Carnivale continues to make my life simultaneously better and worse. That's all I can say right now.
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
also, two silly things and one nice thing:
1) Why is Martin McDonagh so FUCKING HOT?! Here he is at Monday night's NY premiere of In Bruges (which I might get to see tomorrow, hope hope hope):
It brings to mind Emily's famous quote from a few years ago: "He looks like he'd be really good at....having sex."
2) Hilarious antics from Randy and Evi Quaid CONTINUE! He just got banned FOR LIFE from Equity thanks to his shenanigans during the catastrophe that is and has been "Lone Star Love." Basically, the producers (and everyone else) point the finger at these clowns when it comes to the reason the show closed, so now Randy's getting fined the total of two weeks' salary for the whole cast....and various charges are being made against both him and his wife. Check it out (from that most reputable of sources, the NY Post):
A source close to the Quaids said they will appeal Equity's decision. "These are ludicrous charges and this is a kangaroo court," the source said.
I love it.
3) My cousin has a cute baby!
It brings to mind Emily's famous quote from a few years ago: "He looks like he'd be really good at....having sex."
2) Hilarious antics from Randy and Evi Quaid CONTINUE! He just got banned FOR LIFE from Equity thanks to his shenanigans during the catastrophe that is and has been "Lone Star Love." Basically, the producers (and everyone else) point the finger at these clowns when it comes to the reason the show closed, so now Randy's getting fined the total of two weeks' salary for the whole cast....and various charges are being made against both him and his wife. Check it out (from that most reputable of sources, the NY Post):
A source close to the Quaids said they will appeal Equity's decision. "These are ludicrous charges and this is a kangaroo court," the source said.
Randy didn't show up for the hearing, which was held in Los Angeles. But his wife did and, according to a report on TMZ last week, berated several Equity staff members, including a 76-year-old receptionist whom she allegedly kicked in the shins, "drawing blood."
Equity reportedly took out a restraining order against her.
Evi, in turn, says staffers broke her finger, and she has requested a restraining order against them.
During the 61/2-hour hearing, Evi repeatedly screamed that the allegations against her husband were part of a "Nazi plot," according to a source who attended the meeting.
When Randy resigned from the union, he told some of the actors they were part of a "pinko-commie organization" that was out to get him, sources say.
A week before the hearing, Evi e-mailed several actors, threatening to sue them unless they dropped the charges against her husband.
"You have one last chance to stop this onerous campaign or else you will be drawn into a legal quagmire," she wrote.
The "War and Peace"-size complaint was assembled by the entire cast of "Lone Star Love" and included the following allegations:
* Quaid hit an actor on the back of the head four times during performances. When the stage manager told him to stop, he smacked the actor again.
* Another actor was warned that if he made direct eye contact with Quaid onstage, he'd be fired.
* Quaid made "sexually inappropriate" comments onstage, repeatedly referring to an actress' musical instruments as her "gynecological instruments."
* The couple tried to rewrite the script, to eliminate characters.
* Randy "felt free" to change blocking, lyrics and lines during performances, and repeatedly failed to show up for note sessions and rehearsals.
I love it.
3) My cousin has a cute baby!
Better yet-- I'll wear shades on sunless days.
For once, I'm happy to say that things have actually been going on. I've been doing stuff. Hard to believe, I know, but....sometimes the seemingly impossible can occur.
Monday night, rehearsals started for The Civil Wargasm. I didn't really realize it or admit it to myself before they began, but I was really pretty nervous. I did a lot of fast and dirty rewrites on the play, and before now I hadn't touched it since I was in London, and even then not really. I always read everything out loud and of course I know how the Platonic ideal version sounds, in my head (I just struggled to come up with "Plato"-- my instincts first said "Diogenes? No....Hegel?"), but hearing it read by actual people is always different. But Pat has assembled a good cast and they all seem psyched to be there and about the material--one of the actors bought Confederates in the Attic! Cute. I was running on hyper speed and made at least five un-funny jokes about doing crack and things like that. Hilarious.
Before rehearsal, Erin and I made an exciting trip to Pearl for some arts-n-crafts nonsense and then met up with our Mormon lookalike buddy, Professor Andrew Clayman. He really looks Mormon these days. We had a surprisingly less-than-excellent dinner at Excellent Dumpling House (Erin fretted: "This is NOT a good Excellent Dumpling House initiation for you, Andy!") while catching up on who's got kids (one of Andy's students is pregnant and we were reminiscing about the old days of girls doing crossword puzzles in gym class...or playing ping-pong) and who's in Schenectady blah blah blah. It's the same conversation we always have. It's cute to see Andy these days because we all always joked that all he ever wanted to do was become the new Doctor Wolos and thanks to something, possibly good karma, that's essentially exactly what he's done. It's nice when things work out well for people. (But only people I like, of course.)
Yesterday, I went to a brutal yoga class where the teacher actually touched me-- this usually doesn't happen because the classes are so big and there's no way they can pay attention to everyone. But I lucked out and got their early enough to be in the totally La Boheme upstairs studio-- you can see rooftops and chimneys out the window--with the crazy crazy man who is some sort of BMOC in the world of Yoga to the People. As usual, I thought I was going to die, but felt great afterwards. All the instructors have their own spiel and he likes to talk about doing what your body wants to do-- and he said "Why not let yourself be guided by what feels amazing?" And I wanted to yell "Hear, hear!" It's something for me to aspire to-- so often I guide myself by what feels horrible. Why? Why do that? Seek out the good.
I got a text from the illustrious Gabe Levey yesterday asking if I'd read stage directions in a reading he was in later in the night. I said yes, and though it eventually fell through, I went to see the reading and then went out with him afterwards, which was totally wonderful. Lee met up with us and we did major catching up. The best news is the Gabe is going to start working in the box/as house manager at La Mama! Amazing.
Though that reminds me of all the anxiety that's creeping into my daily life about my planned trip to Boston for the month of May. The specific anxiety that comes with the phrase "I'll see if I can get out of work that night/day/week/month" is a kind that I don't like at all. Not one bit.
And now, today. Work, and then a grant-seeking workshop with Katy, and then hopefully, if the stars align in my favor, seeing Slaughterhouse-Five at 59E59. It involves perfect timing, the MTA being sweet to me, retrieving my student ID, and pulling a scam. As usual.
I am realizing anew that life is much better when I am working. Working on my own stuff, I mean. It is better to work. Yes.
Also, being in the rehearsal for Wargasm made me remember just how much I like acting and how I want to do it, uh, now.
What a life. Right?
Monday night, rehearsals started for The Civil Wargasm. I didn't really realize it or admit it to myself before they began, but I was really pretty nervous. I did a lot of fast and dirty rewrites on the play, and before now I hadn't touched it since I was in London, and even then not really. I always read everything out loud and of course I know how the Platonic ideal version sounds, in my head (I just struggled to come up with "Plato"-- my instincts first said "Diogenes? No....Hegel?"), but hearing it read by actual people is always different. But Pat has assembled a good cast and they all seem psyched to be there and about the material--one of the actors bought Confederates in the Attic! Cute. I was running on hyper speed and made at least five un-funny jokes about doing crack and things like that. Hilarious.
Before rehearsal, Erin and I made an exciting trip to Pearl for some arts-n-crafts nonsense and then met up with our Mormon lookalike buddy, Professor Andrew Clayman. He really looks Mormon these days. We had a surprisingly less-than-excellent dinner at Excellent Dumpling House (Erin fretted: "This is NOT a good Excellent Dumpling House initiation for you, Andy!") while catching up on who's got kids (one of Andy's students is pregnant and we were reminiscing about the old days of girls doing crossword puzzles in gym class...or playing ping-pong) and who's in Schenectady blah blah blah. It's the same conversation we always have. It's cute to see Andy these days because we all always joked that all he ever wanted to do was become the new Doctor Wolos and thanks to something, possibly good karma, that's essentially exactly what he's done. It's nice when things work out well for people. (But only people I like, of course.)
Yesterday, I went to a brutal yoga class where the teacher actually touched me-- this usually doesn't happen because the classes are so big and there's no way they can pay attention to everyone. But I lucked out and got their early enough to be in the totally La Boheme upstairs studio-- you can see rooftops and chimneys out the window--with the crazy crazy man who is some sort of BMOC in the world of Yoga to the People. As usual, I thought I was going to die, but felt great afterwards. All the instructors have their own spiel and he likes to talk about doing what your body wants to do-- and he said "Why not let yourself be guided by what feels amazing?" And I wanted to yell "Hear, hear!" It's something for me to aspire to-- so often I guide myself by what feels horrible. Why? Why do that? Seek out the good.
I got a text from the illustrious Gabe Levey yesterday asking if I'd read stage directions in a reading he was in later in the night. I said yes, and though it eventually fell through, I went to see the reading and then went out with him afterwards, which was totally wonderful. Lee met up with us and we did major catching up. The best news is the Gabe is going to start working in the box/as house manager at La Mama! Amazing.
Though that reminds me of all the anxiety that's creeping into my daily life about my planned trip to Boston for the month of May. The specific anxiety that comes with the phrase "I'll see if I can get out of work that night/day/week/month" is a kind that I don't like at all. Not one bit.
And now, today. Work, and then a grant-seeking workshop with Katy, and then hopefully, if the stars align in my favor, seeing Slaughterhouse-Five at 59E59. It involves perfect timing, the MTA being sweet to me, retrieving my student ID, and pulling a scam. As usual.
I am realizing anew that life is much better when I am working. Working on my own stuff, I mean. It is better to work. Yes.
Also, being in the rehearsal for Wargasm made me remember just how much I like acting and how I want to do it, uh, now.
What a life. Right?
Monday, February 4, 2008
It's called a cuppa-chino...
...and wait'll you heard what it costs!
Bits and bobs, as they say in England:
There's a new coffee shop on Bedford Avenue and for the past few days, before the real opening, everything was free free free. The charming gent behind the counter persuaded me to smell the un-ground espresso beans-- 'Wild, right? They smell like BLUEBERRIES!'-- and then made me a fabulous cappuccino. Everything tastes better when it's free.
I accompanied one of La MaMa's weirder regulars to a show yesterday at the Connelly Theatre. It was called "The Lifeblood" and was allegedly about the last days of Mary Stuart. I'm not sure what it was really about because I didn't give a fuck what anyone was saying because it was so boring and the chain-link fence set design was distracting. Alright, I'm exaggerating. But it was super, super boring and the actors didn't do anything to make me like it anymore. I know I'm hard to please-- sometimes every very hard to please-- but come on. They had a lot of money. They have a huge resident company. This is what they came up with?
ANYWAY, she who does nothing shouldn't criticize the work of others.
Rehearsals start tonight for the current incarnation of my short play "The Civil Wargasm." Here's the info, if you're at all interested:
THE CIVIL WARGASM and SISTERS
The Richmond Shepard Theatre
309 East 26th Street, 2nd Floor
Thursday, February 14th @ 5:00
Friday, February 15th @ 5:00
Saturday, February 16th @ 8:00
SISTERS
Written by: Emily Kaye Liberis
Directed by: Craig Mungavin
THE CIVIL WARGASM
(Adapted from "Confederates in the Attic" By: Tony Horwitz)
Written by: Anna Hendrick
Directed by: Patrick James Lynch
Tickets: $15 General Admission. $10 Students/Seniors
Concessions: Beer/wine/soda/water
So. That's that. I guess I should maybe tell my parents about it? I don't know. I don't think they'd be able to come but they'd probably be mad if I refer to it later and that's the first they've heard of it. I don't know.
This week is so fucking zany. My first commitment of the day today is at ten pm. What is this life that I'm living? Why can't I get out of bed before ten thirty every morning?
Ooh, but something good-- I'm accompanying Molly to see Passing Strange this Saturday. I. Can't. Wait. She got free tickets and asked me to be her date. I haven't seen her in FOREVER, at least not for any significant amount of time, and it'll be so good to see her and see the show.
Meowskers asks: Is it worth all this sadness to hold on to your dreams?
Survey says: I don't know, Meowksers!
Bits and bobs, as they say in England:
There's a new coffee shop on Bedford Avenue and for the past few days, before the real opening, everything was free free free. The charming gent behind the counter persuaded me to smell the un-ground espresso beans-- 'Wild, right? They smell like BLUEBERRIES!'-- and then made me a fabulous cappuccino. Everything tastes better when it's free.
I accompanied one of La MaMa's weirder regulars to a show yesterday at the Connelly Theatre. It was called "The Lifeblood" and was allegedly about the last days of Mary Stuart. I'm not sure what it was really about because I didn't give a fuck what anyone was saying because it was so boring and the chain-link fence set design was distracting. Alright, I'm exaggerating. But it was super, super boring and the actors didn't do anything to make me like it anymore. I know I'm hard to please-- sometimes every very hard to please-- but come on. They had a lot of money. They have a huge resident company. This is what they came up with?
ANYWAY, she who does nothing shouldn't criticize the work of others.
Rehearsals start tonight for the current incarnation of my short play "The Civil Wargasm." Here's the info, if you're at all interested:
THE CIVIL WARGASM and SISTERS
The Richmond Shepard Theatre
309 East 26th Street, 2nd Floor
Thursday, February 14th @ 5:00
Friday, February 15th @ 5:00
Saturday, February 16th @ 8:00
SISTERS
Written by: Emily Kaye Liberis
Directed by: Craig Mungavin
THE CIVIL WARGASM
(Adapted from "Confederates in the Attic" By: Tony Horwitz)
Written by: Anna Hendrick
Directed by: Patrick James Lynch
Tickets: $15 General Admission. $10 Students/Seniors
Concessions: Beer/wine/soda/water
So. That's that. I guess I should maybe tell my parents about it? I don't know. I don't think they'd be able to come but they'd probably be mad if I refer to it later and that's the first they've heard of it. I don't know.
This week is so fucking zany. My first commitment of the day today is at ten pm. What is this life that I'm living? Why can't I get out of bed before ten thirty every morning?
Ooh, but something good-- I'm accompanying Molly to see Passing Strange this Saturday. I. Can't. Wait. She got free tickets and asked me to be her date. I haven't seen her in FOREVER, at least not for any significant amount of time, and it'll be so good to see her and see the show.
Meowskers asks: Is it worth all this sadness to hold on to your dreams?
Survey says: I don't know, Meowksers!
Sunday, February 3, 2008
Sunday SILLINESSSSSSSS
Aie!!!! How this has escaped me for so long I JUST DON'T KNOW, but....
Alright, so, if you know me at all, you probably know how I am destined for love with Sondre Lerche, Norwegian pop singer extraordinaire. Yeah, he's married, whatever. Please. We both love Elvis Costello and Ed Wood. AND, apparently, the novel (or movie, in this case) Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier.
"Just like that old movie
'bout Rebecca's spell
I feel like Max never felt
Minus the drama and the fraud!"
Sondre....when will we be together? Sigh.
Alright, so, if you know me at all, you probably know how I am destined for love with Sondre Lerche, Norwegian pop singer extraordinaire. Yeah, he's married, whatever. Please. We both love Elvis Costello and Ed Wood. AND, apparently, the novel (or movie, in this case) Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier.
"Just like that old movie
'bout Rebecca's spell
I feel like Max never felt
Minus the drama and the fraud!"
Sondre....when will we be together? Sigh.
Saturday, February 2, 2008
ends and odds.
So, I don't know who left that anonymous comment a few posts ago, but I guess I appreciate it. Anonymity has its benefits. They actually read that entire quote from Cummings one day in yoga and I liked it then and I like it now.
And Jess-- my statement about the three sisters was more about me never jiving with their mantra of "We must work, we must work" than about the play itself. Though I'm not saying anything about that, either. :)
I did something kooky yesterday-- I played my TRUMPET. Yes, that dusty old thing. The only music I have is tabs from my Captain Destructo days, which I don't even remember how to read, and a book of "Americana" songs intended, I'm sure, for marching band. I serenaded Aldo and Lucifer with "Home on the Range" and "Columbia, The Gem of the Ocean." Aldo tried to accompany me on the fiddle. Nightmares for everyone.
Work is work. Easy. Uneventful.
I finally came up with a draft of The Civil Wargasm that I was semi-satisfied with and sent it to the busy bees Michael and Pat. We'll see what happens.
Michelle Williams released a statement about Heath Ledger and I read it at work yesterday and literally started to cry. You can't take me anyway.
LES singing today-- I'm in no hurry to get there. I'm a little sung out.
I guess that's all. For now.
Hum-drum de-dum.
And Jess-- my statement about the three sisters was more about me never jiving with their mantra of "We must work, we must work" than about the play itself. Though I'm not saying anything about that, either. :)
I did something kooky yesterday-- I played my TRUMPET. Yes, that dusty old thing. The only music I have is tabs from my Captain Destructo days, which I don't even remember how to read, and a book of "Americana" songs intended, I'm sure, for marching band. I serenaded Aldo and Lucifer with "Home on the Range" and "Columbia, The Gem of the Ocean." Aldo tried to accompany me on the fiddle. Nightmares for everyone.
Work is work. Easy. Uneventful.
I finally came up with a draft of The Civil Wargasm that I was semi-satisfied with and sent it to the busy bees Michael and Pat. We'll see what happens.
Michelle Williams released a statement about Heath Ledger and I read it at work yesterday and literally started to cry. You can't take me anyway.
LES singing today-- I'm in no hurry to get there. I'm a little sung out.
I guess that's all. For now.
Hum-drum de-dum.
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