Greetings...

...from the Electric City!

I'll elaborate later.  I've been spending a lovely, placid, gluttonous, few days in Schenec.  Slinky is sick or something today so he's been sleeping on my bed allllll day.  I've been eating. Watching tv.  Organizing some stuff.

Returning to NYC tomorrow, straight to work.  I can't believe the Oscars are this weekend. I'm not ready for them! I need more time.


Anyway. More later.  Good night.

I'm tearing up these tarot cards.

I recently took the book (Not That You Asked), by Steve Almond, out of the library. This is the first thing I've ever read by him, though I'd always sort of had a hankering to read Candyfreak, though I worry that if I do I'll just be mad that he wrote it before me. Anyway-- one of the essays in the book is called "Blog Love" and is about this weird relationship that Almond had with a blogger who absolutely hated him and all of his work and additionally appeared to be something of a hack in all areas of his professional life. So Almond's essay was essentially about how he hates assholes, and he especially hates assholes who blog, and how most of all he hates the blogs that are a product of those labors.

A tee-hee-hee, Steven Almond. I guess I should mention that I'm not liking his book very much. I think he's kind of a jerk. Maybe this'll turn into the second hack-written blog decrying Steve Almond at every opportunity? We'll see.


I FINALLY saw No Country for Old Men last night. I love going to the movies. I have done it so infrequently since moving here-- I'm still seeing a lot of things, thank you, Netflix, but I haven't been going out. Today I say I love it, but tomorrow I could very well say 'I HATE going to the movies' and honestly mean it. Whatever. I thought the movie was great. It was so brutal and slow and unrelenting and bloody and terrifying.....wonderful. I didn't recognize Kelly MacDonald AT ALL. She was really great and so cute. I mean, SHE's cute. She wasn't cute in it. And I just love Javier Bardem more and more all the time...Maybe I'll go as Anton Chigurh for Halloween this year. HOT.

Other exciting events in my life include: attempting to buy some new clothes at Buffalo Exchange and derailing that plan by ripping one of the shirts I tried on; calmly accepting Aldo's proclamation that 'We should really keep the dishes cleaner'; getting my eyes examined; living vicariously through various friends who are doing exciting things (including but not limited to playing Karaoke Revolution); trying to re-learn EGBDF lines and going to work.

Instead of real content, here are some links.

A cute little article from the NY Times about grammar and punctuation on the subway. Does that ring your bell, or what?

The most ridiculous series of videos I have ever seen. Aldo showed them to me. They were probably everyone's favorite on YouTube about three years ago, but I'm obsessed anyway.


WAIT, WHAT?! FIDEL CASTRO JUST 'STEPPED DOWN'?!?!?!?! I just went to the nytimes.com to retrieve that link and that's what I was met with. What? The eight-grade Anna would be throwing a fucking PARTY right now.

Apparently, he says:

“I will not aspire to, neither will I accept — I repeat I will not aspire to, neither will I accept — the position of President of the Council of State and Commander in chief. It would betray my conscience to occupy a responsibility that requires mobility and the total commitment that I am not in the physical condition to offer.”

Our fearless leader wastes no time:

“The United States will help the people of Cuba realize the blessings of liberty,” [Bush] said.


Wow.


Anyway, links:

Semicolons

Spare Me My Life!

If you like Spare Me My Life!, there are more in the series. The one teaching medical emergency terms is really good.

How come every time I make a plan to go to the movies, it's REALLY FUCKING NICE OUTSIDE all of a sudden?!

Nobody wants a monster for a Valentine. Or, Shenanigans, con't.

Blogs are sort of stupid, in general, but this one really sets new levels. Yes! I'm a trailblazer!

Whatever. There's more that needed to be reported.

I neglected to mention a few supporters, and any good politician knows that's a bad idea. Katy and Jess were there on the first night, which was Valentine's Day, so that says something! (And NOT that they're lonely. On the contrary.) Though who It should be noted, for posterity, and because Jess will, I think, get a kick out of it, that Andy didn't come to the show last night because he was drinking absinthe with his roommate, in their apartment.

Absinthe?


Really?


Uh-huh.


We all went out after the show last night, which was really great. There was a little but not really enough, catching up with Emily, who goes back to Boston tonight. Man, I miss those Boston people. I keep thinking "May, Boston, friends, Esplanade, BPL, Anna's, ERC (I will be there every goddamn day), etc." and it's getting me through the cold nights in my frigid apt. It'll be nice.

I have 3 episodes of Carnivale left and I'm actually feeling a little relieved. No, no one told me I had to watch them in such a marathon fashion, but how else was I gonna do it? Immersion, baby! At any rate, I'm relieved because it's actually unrelentingly scary/creepy/unpleasant/stressful and it's wearing on me a bit. I mean, how many times can I watch Brother Justin's eyes go completely black while he does demonic things? And how many times can I say "Clea DuVall is so hot" before I lose it? Only time will tell. (Man, I love cliches. I really do.)

Oh! The other exciting thing is that the female half of the psychotic and abusive couple that lives below us is MOVING OUT! Aldo and I saw them moving her stuff out yesterday. She hasn't been around since the COPS GOT CALLED last week, so who knows. Thank god. I don't know if he'll stay or go. But thank god.

Today? Work.

I get good advice from the advertising world!

Well.

So, first of all, something really sad happened. This guy that worked at Union College, and with the BRTC, and Saratoga Shakespeare...had kids that went to SHS, and his wife worked there, too-- died all of a sudden the other night. He wasn't old. My dad called me to tell me. I wasn't close to him, particularly, but he and his wife could always be counted on to say something super nice after shows-- usually too nice. So, I guess, RIP John Miller.

Uh, after that, anything else seems really sort of superficial...but I'll go for it. What first? Um...well, I got my hair cut by the wizards at Bumble and bumble the other morning (Valentine's Day, if I'm going to be specific), for $FREE.00, which is really the best part. I'm happy with it. Though I'm remembering from short haircuts of the past that sleeping does really weird things to short hair. Which means I have to extend more effort to not look like a freak. Which...is good. Anyway, here's a stupid self-taken picture.

That was on the day of the cut....compared with what it's actually going to look like most of time, which is probably something closer to:



We'll see. Anyway.

I saw a bizarre show at The Barrow Group the other night called "Gray Area," written by John Ahlin. It was about threee hardcore reenactors who kidnap a curmudgeonly, Ben Brantley-esque NY theatre critic/secret Civil War scholar after he writes a column deriding their pastime, or way of life, or whatever. The premise was funny and the show LOOKED amazing-- the set was kind of breathtaking and they didn't look too farby....there was a beautiful sound design and of course I was amazed at the number of instruments in use (esp. with "tech" for Wargasm fresh in my mind, where the game was not "What do we want it to look like?" as much as it was "What lights are pointing toward the stage? Awesome." Anyway, it was way too fucking long and not that great but the point is that the word "farb" was used.

Anyway.

I finagled my way out of work and went to the third and final (continent) show of The Civil Wargasm tonight. Friends were out in fine fettle- Erin, Jimmy, Rachel, Molly Ava, LEVI(!), Matt, Ben Lewis, Emily, Billy, Billy's bro and his bf, a ton of Emily's family members and friends from high school. They were insanely supportive. The couple next to me was slugging back beers and muttering lines they (apparently) liked to each other....seconds after they were said. They both liked farb and all variations. A lot.

It was wonderful to hear people laugh at something I wrote. That has rarely, if ever happened before-- I think the last time it happened was, well....the first draft of Wargasm. When I was a sophomore. Uh, yeah. But it was very exhilirating and nerve-wracking and fun and scary all at the same time, and I can see how people can get addicted.

Oh god, I'm tired and this is ridiculous. I will end with: Levi was his usual neurotic self, saying "Why didn't you tell me about this last week? You could have told me earlier you were doing a show. I know you downplay things, I know you're modest, that's your defense mechanism" and I was like "But it's not a big deal!" and then for a split-second I thought "No, he's right! I COULD have made a bigger deal out of this!" Then the feeling was (mostly) gone. I am disappointed that certain people, namely my parents, couldn't see it.

Ah, well. There'll always be other shows. And it WASN'T really a big deal.....oh, come on! :-P

delishhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Taking a cue from one of the Yoga instructors I take class from, and continuing on this new quest to be guided by what feels amazing, I celebrated Valentine's Day this morning by......eating candy for breakfast!

YAYYYYYYYY!

Train in vain. (Stand by me.)

And suddenly......my life exploded!

In a (mostly, I think) good way!

Phew.

Here we go. This will be all out of order, most likely, but who the fuck cares anyway?

Saturday afternoon found me singing alto and treble in Aldo's bedroomw ith a few staunch singing friends. Kelsey was in town from Boston for a little bit, and Lauren and Jesse came over to see her. I sang with her, and then when she left and Rachel and Zeke came in, I sang treble. I didn't sing tenor at all during the actual singing. It was interesting.

Saturday night, I saw "Passing Strange" at the Belasco with Miss Molly Garber. she got comps through some producer-type person. We were seated directly behind none other than Peter Dagger, a fellow Saratoga Shakespearean, and his friend Jeremy, both of whom appeared at La MaMa a few weeks ago. The show was really, really enjoyable-- one of the actors who I saw (and met) in Well when it was in Boston, Colman, was in the show and he is really a delight to watch. Speaking of delights, I felt so happy to be with Molly--I don't see her enough. I don't really see anyone enough.

After the show, we went by train and foot, in the cold rain, to a bar on Avenue C to meet up with my cousin Matt at a party for his girlfriend, Sarah. This was the first time I had met her and she was so lovely and sweet and I was glad that I made it to the fete.

Before I go any further, here: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ABE LINCOLN! And Ian Merrigan. And Mike Anderson. And Ben Silverstein.

Sunday morning found me being a real person, accompanied by another real person, in my neighborhood-- getting coffee, walking by the water, going in stores, things like that. I like Williamsburg more and more. Excuse me while I go get an ugly haircut. (Oh god, knock on wood, I shouldn't say things like that so soon before my appointment.) Really though-- why resist? Don't be a hater.

This is a gem from hilarious friend and former resident of Amsterdam, Justin:

Justin:
randy quaid is going to be in my nightmares now
i cant believe how crazy he is
he's a QUAID
that's a halftstep away from lower-tiered Baldwin
between a baldwin and a wayans, i'd say
and he sure the hell ain't no Guy Williams JR.

That he ain't, Justin.

After that I had a day at work, a brief stint at a baby's birthday party (she was asleep, I ate food), and a night at Erin and Jimmy's newly-painted and rearranged apartment. The decoupaged tray I made them long ago now has a place on the newly-appointed 'kitsch corner,' right under the Ouija board with a swastika on it. Yes! I fell asleep as soon as I got there. Erin and I ate bagels in the morning and then I made the stupid decision to go shopping. For clothes. In real stores. Obviously a bad idea. Like I don't know myself or something.

This morning, starting at 8 am, I ran tech for my surly bastard child of a play, The Civil Wargasm. It was satisfying and frustrating-- I had to work very hard and exercise my best SM/director/techie muscles. Pat had laid some really good tech groundwork for me, but I invented a light design that I think works okay, and created some sound transitions that are, I think, effective. This is borderline bragging for me. Who is this new Anna who acknowledges when she does work? And good work, at that? (Cocky bitch that she is, I'm sure she'll be nowhere to be found in a few moments.) Michael and I revisited our realization (had on World AIDS day last year) that we cannot and will not ever, ever date-- it's good to make sure you know who to avoid so as to not waste time, right?-- which no one found as hilarious as us, of course. Hysteria was constantly being beaten away, and the fact that I had to climb a rope to get into the booth DIDN'T help. But I love working. I love working. Even when I'm tired and lazy, I love working.

Though not at LM. I mean, not this kind of work.


(HIRE ME! Said like Maeby's MARRY ME!)

Now, work. Tonight, Carnivale and tea. And electric blanket. And dreams of cuddling with Slinky.