Sometimes, in the morning, I get up when real people get up (not 10.30), and go out, and do things that real people do, like walk around or drink coffee in a cafe. And it is lovely. Today, the nip in the air is nice, the sun is nice, the flowering trees are beyond nice, the dogs, the people, the company, the everything.
Last night I went to BAM to see Endgame by Samuel Beckett. So I've decided that I'm really, really not very into Beckett, at all at all at all. At least not right now. Honestly, I don't know what the play was "about," what I was theoretically supposed to be getting out of it, and I'm not that interested in trying to figure it out or dedicate much thought to it. I was mostly there to see the four actors (Elaine Stritch, Alvin Epstein, John Turturro, Max Casella) because I like each of them individually (ok, except maybe A.E.) and wanted to see them together. Weirdest cast ever.
ANYWAY, my point is that the evening would have been sort of unremarkable (or perhaps even remembered negativgely, since the fucking guy next to me couldn't stop sniffling (aka ruining my life) AND the bar of the balcony was running right through my field of vision) EXCEPT for the fact that something terrible and terrific happened. John Turturro, Hamm, spends the whole play in this big heavy wood chair that has wheels on the legs, and early-ish in the play he asks Clov, Max Casella, to wheel him around the room so he can feel the walls. Clov doesn't bring him close enough, so Hamm yells at him and Clov almost rams the chair into the wall, to get back at him. when this happened, the bag leg's wheel fell off. M.C. picked it up really calmly, and eventually tried to fix it while still delivering his lines. He seemed nervous and they adapted some business involving moving the chair, and I thought the result was actualy hilarious and probably better than what it was supposed to be. But what do I know. Anyway, this goes on for some time, MC fiddles with the wheel again, and it seems like everything is copacetic.
20 minutes later, Hamm has this massive speech where he's telling his dad an installment of this crazy story he's making up. His dad is in a garbage can, further downstage. J.T. flings his arms open and the chair, as if in slow motion, hurtles backward. The audience gasped louder than I've ever heard any gasp, JT smacked his head on the stage, and MC came running on. Staying mostly in the moment and in character, he assessed the situation and JT starts yelling "I don't need my chair to finish my story! I need to finish my story!" and starts wriggling out of the chair and crawling over to the garbage can. MC starts trying to get the chair righted and then this stagehand runs on and wheels the chair off. For the rest of the story, JT sat next to the can, and from the back of the stage, you could hear hammering and drilling and stuff. Which is hilarious, because Endgame is sort of supposed to exist in a VACUUM. Or something.
The conclusion of this hilarity was at the end of the story, someone coming over the God mic, saying "Ladies and gentlemen, we'll hold to bring the chair back on, it is fixed" and a stagehand whisking it on. They could have not said anything, and I wish they hadn't. I am also fully confident that they would have figured something out if they HADN'T taken the chair away and I kind of wish thay they hadn't.
It was wonderful. Later lines in the play had new, funny significance all of a sudden, and I don't even (or only) mean cheaply funny. It was wonderful to watch them adapt and scramble and compensate for the accident. And it made me think about all the stupid things that have gone wrong in shows I've been in.
Work has been silly lately-- two nights of drinking on the job raised morale a little bit. Had to watch one of the worst things I've ever seen in my life...but it was a fundraiser to, you know, stop GENOCIDE, so I look like a bastard if I complain about the shittiness of the thing. I don't care. It was super shitty. My friend Matt at work texted me from the sound board "I'm glad you're here to see this-- it's the real cultural atrocity."
Today, I will hopefully coerce Nitz to see the cherry blossoms with me, then we will hopefully go see Jhumpa Lahiri read at the Strand, then I will come home and hopefully binge to excess on Twin Peaks. These are my hopes.
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Sunday, April 27, 2008
The same old way...
Indulge me in a minute of brain-picking ranting:
I'm getting so if I don't have to work, and I don't have anything planned, I get a little panicky. THIS is how much I've let myself neglect myself. While it's unrealistic to assume I would spend every waking minute that I'm not at work pursuing my career/art/whatever (ok, it's really not that unrealistic), I should hope I'd spend SOME of my time doing that. I mean, for me. Jesus! Isn't that what I'm supposed to be doing? Isn't that what I WANT to be doing? But all I do is watch tv, cross-stitch, mope around at the computer, have solo dance parties, or let the dirty dishes pile up around me.
The point is, I think, that I need to maybe adjust my attitude about solo time and try, just try, to be a little more motivated or productive. Or, at the very least, be easier on myself when I'm not either of those things. Because if I"m not doing anything, I may as well try to feel okay about it.
Right?
Man, I don't know.
This being said, I've been lucky to see friends lately. After work on Friday, I took a walk with Ben and ate some Pomme Frites. He was dropping a play off in the LES somewhere so he stopped by. Or maybe it was: he was dropping a play off, and walked by. I don't know. Either way, it was an interaction far more pleasant and civil than any of our previous ones, which was good. Yes, good. After that, I went to the Strand and blew $20-something on books and some squared Moleskines for x-stitch charts. Then I went to Forbidden Planet and bought the newest American Splendor. Some part of me really loves going in that place and looking at the bizarre mix of people in there. Fanboys and girls, Japanese cutie pies, fat old dudes, hipsters, all kinds. I love it. Then I read A.S. in Union Square while a man in a suit stared at me. For half an hour. Stared. At. Me. I tried to ignore it but eventually it became too much.
Craig got out of work and we met up but he had a searing headache and I was tired of carrying my books and we couldn't agree on anything to do so it looked like a classic Anna/Craig passive-aggressive encounter was about to occur, but he finally gave in to the temptation of Red Stripe in my fridge and came back to Wburg with me. Gossiping and drinking ensued.
Yesterday, I had a brief but fun visit with Joanna and Justin, singing friends from Boston. We walked around Thomson Square Park and they expressed shock and horror at every hipster/weirdo we passed. They don't coime to NY much. He doesn't leave the plantation much. :)
Today, I met up with Emily (one night only, folks!), Julie, and Molly for breakfast at the hip and delicious Egg on North 6th. We had to wait about 45 minutes, but it was no big thing and we were obviously happy to catch up while waiting. I had eggs and grits and they were....mmmmm. Uh-huh. It was wonnnnnnderful to see them. After, Julie and I went to Brooklyn Industries where I bought a bag, thinking "I'll return it in a few days, when common sense kicks in." Too bad she stamped FINAL SALE on my receipt. Looks like I'll have to keep it. Rats.
Tonight was work, watching tv on the computer, reading boring boring boring verbose thick unexciting (but I am halfway through so have to slog through) "Atonement," and eventually drinking beer with Chriz and Elliot, listening to Lily Allen, in the box office. I get paid for this? Give me a break.
Now? Twin Peaks.
I'm getting so if I don't have to work, and I don't have anything planned, I get a little panicky. THIS is how much I've let myself neglect myself. While it's unrealistic to assume I would spend every waking minute that I'm not at work pursuing my career/art/whatever (ok, it's really not that unrealistic), I should hope I'd spend SOME of my time doing that. I mean, for me. Jesus! Isn't that what I'm supposed to be doing? Isn't that what I WANT to be doing? But all I do is watch tv, cross-stitch, mope around at the computer, have solo dance parties, or let the dirty dishes pile up around me.
The point is, I think, that I need to maybe adjust my attitude about solo time and try, just try, to be a little more motivated or productive. Or, at the very least, be easier on myself when I'm not either of those things. Because if I"m not doing anything, I may as well try to feel okay about it.
Right?
Man, I don't know.
This being said, I've been lucky to see friends lately. After work on Friday, I took a walk with Ben and ate some Pomme Frites. He was dropping a play off in the LES somewhere so he stopped by. Or maybe it was: he was dropping a play off, and walked by. I don't know. Either way, it was an interaction far more pleasant and civil than any of our previous ones, which was good. Yes, good. After that, I went to the Strand and blew $20-something on books and some squared Moleskines for x-stitch charts. Then I went to Forbidden Planet and bought the newest American Splendor. Some part of me really loves going in that place and looking at the bizarre mix of people in there. Fanboys and girls, Japanese cutie pies, fat old dudes, hipsters, all kinds. I love it. Then I read A.S. in Union Square while a man in a suit stared at me. For half an hour. Stared. At. Me. I tried to ignore it but eventually it became too much.
Craig got out of work and we met up but he had a searing headache and I was tired of carrying my books and we couldn't agree on anything to do so it looked like a classic Anna/Craig passive-aggressive encounter was about to occur, but he finally gave in to the temptation of Red Stripe in my fridge and came back to Wburg with me. Gossiping and drinking ensued.
Yesterday, I had a brief but fun visit with Joanna and Justin, singing friends from Boston. We walked around Thomson Square Park and they expressed shock and horror at every hipster/weirdo we passed. They don't coime to NY much. He doesn't leave the plantation much. :)
Today, I met up with Emily (one night only, folks!), Julie, and Molly for breakfast at the hip and delicious Egg on North 6th. We had to wait about 45 minutes, but it was no big thing and we were obviously happy to catch up while waiting. I had eggs and grits and they were....mmmmm. Uh-huh. It was wonnnnnnderful to see them. After, Julie and I went to Brooklyn Industries where I bought a bag, thinking "I'll return it in a few days, when common sense kicks in." Too bad she stamped FINAL SALE on my receipt. Looks like I'll have to keep it. Rats.
Tonight was work, watching tv on the computer, reading boring boring boring verbose thick unexciting (but I am halfway through so have to slog through) "Atonement," and eventually drinking beer with Chriz and Elliot, listening to Lily Allen, in the box office. I get paid for this? Give me a break.
Now? Twin Peaks.
Friday, April 25, 2008
the sad state of my life (abridged):
me: god damn. elvis costello was 24 when he made 'armed forces.'
Erin: damn
me: i want to scream
Erin: no. we have Etsy.
Erin: damn
me: i want to scream
Erin: no. we have Etsy.
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Dios mio.
Gahhhhh.
I'm in a little mood so I thought I'd remind myself of all the wonderful things I've been doing lately and hopefully, that way, feel a little better.
First, my cell phone came back to life. Frankenphone?
This weekend was fun. I did stupid things like shop and spend money (on ridic dresses and jeans that are too tight and such like....stuff I'll probably return but the point is that I bought it in the first place. I'm making progress.) Stayed up late late on Saturday then woke up (late) to go to a birthday brunch for Molly on the Upper West Side, accompanied by Julie, Michael, Craig, and one of Molls' roommates. It was really nice to see people, to eat frivolous food, to be out somewhere...nice. Then I killed two hours at the Columbus Ave flea market, trying on vintage frames and buying old postcards. (The guy next to me, unfortunately, bought up many of the ones I wanted...turns out he was from Troy and we had similar tastes. Bummer. AND he was unfriendly and didn't want to talk about the Capital District. Screw him.) After that it was to St. Bart's for a quick hour and a half of singing- the group was sparse but well-intentioned, and I tried my best to sing alto. It went better than it has in the past. And then I went to work!
Yesterday I futzed around, went to the Farmer's Market, ran into Jess and Mikey who were on a "domestic errand," then went to a free reading of three short plays written by JR Baitz, S. Ruhl, and L. Kron in honor of Earth Day. They were at NYU. I hate NYU. Craig met me there and we snickered at a man falling asleep in the front row and marvelled at how bad some actors are. (Am I a bitch? I don't care.) Then we got free coffee, sat in "Homeless Park (Lebewohl)" and listend to a guy wearing headphones rant about how his landlord "screwed him," then belatedly decided to get sushi. We did. I wanted to barf. Then we went back to my apartment, listened to Gershwin, read personal correspondences (not our own), drank beers, and reminisced about the good places people used to live in Boston. It was, after all, the most Bostonian of all holidays-- Patriots' Day! Or Marathon Monday.
[I feel somewhat better now. (The source of mood is the impending (so I think) ream-out I'm going to get from my boss. Maybe it won't happen. Maybe it will. I think it will. I don't feel like feeling bad today.)]
I'm reading 'Atonement' and I'm finding it really hard to get through. As I told Craig, I think 7 of the last 15 or so books I've read, and this is going back a ways, have been K. Vonnegut books, and I've gotten used to being able to blaze through them. So all of this detail, this incessant detail about the smell of the grass and the look of the sky and the feel of the silk and the quality of the light....it's beating me down. I was going to give up but I hate doing that, AND nothing had really happened yet (though I was 90 pages in) and I didn't want to put it down without having given it a really fair chance. Then this review exceprt on the first page caught my eye: "...with one of the most remarkable erotic scenes in modern fiction..." So I had to keep reading. Obviously.
I'm going to push on with that. Then hide under the counter to avoid the diatribe.
I'm in a little mood so I thought I'd remind myself of all the wonderful things I've been doing lately and hopefully, that way, feel a little better.
First, my cell phone came back to life. Frankenphone?
This weekend was fun. I did stupid things like shop and spend money (on ridic dresses and jeans that are too tight and such like....stuff I'll probably return but the point is that I bought it in the first place. I'm making progress.) Stayed up late late on Saturday then woke up (late) to go to a birthday brunch for Molly on the Upper West Side, accompanied by Julie, Michael, Craig, and one of Molls' roommates. It was really nice to see people, to eat frivolous food, to be out somewhere...nice. Then I killed two hours at the Columbus Ave flea market, trying on vintage frames and buying old postcards. (The guy next to me, unfortunately, bought up many of the ones I wanted...turns out he was from Troy and we had similar tastes. Bummer. AND he was unfriendly and didn't want to talk about the Capital District. Screw him.) After that it was to St. Bart's for a quick hour and a half of singing- the group was sparse but well-intentioned, and I tried my best to sing alto. It went better than it has in the past. And then I went to work!
Yesterday I futzed around, went to the Farmer's Market, ran into Jess and Mikey who were on a "domestic errand," then went to a free reading of three short plays written by JR Baitz, S. Ruhl, and L. Kron in honor of Earth Day. They were at NYU. I hate NYU. Craig met me there and we snickered at a man falling asleep in the front row and marvelled at how bad some actors are. (Am I a bitch? I don't care.) Then we got free coffee, sat in "Homeless Park (Lebewohl)" and listend to a guy wearing headphones rant about how his landlord "screwed him," then belatedly decided to get sushi. We did. I wanted to barf. Then we went back to my apartment, listened to Gershwin, read personal correspondences (not our own), drank beers, and reminisced about the good places people used to live in Boston. It was, after all, the most Bostonian of all holidays-- Patriots' Day! Or Marathon Monday.
[I feel somewhat better now. (The source of mood is the impending (so I think) ream-out I'm going to get from my boss. Maybe it won't happen. Maybe it will. I think it will. I don't feel like feeling bad today.)]
I'm reading 'Atonement' and I'm finding it really hard to get through. As I told Craig, I think 7 of the last 15 or so books I've read, and this is going back a ways, have been K. Vonnegut books, and I've gotten used to being able to blaze through them. So all of this detail, this incessant detail about the smell of the grass and the look of the sky and the feel of the silk and the quality of the light....it's beating me down. I was going to give up but I hate doing that, AND nothing had really happened yet (though I was 90 pages in) and I didn't want to put it down without having given it a really fair chance. Then this review exceprt on the first page caught my eye: "...with one of the most remarkable erotic scenes in modern fiction..." So I had to keep reading. Obviously.
I'm going to push on with that. Then hide under the counter to avoid the diatribe.
Thursday, April 17, 2008
Obviously...
I am without a cell phone. Again.
This time? Let's just say I made a nice pot of cell phone soup today. Here's the recipe:
Ingredients:
One cell phone
One bottle of water (make sure it has a leaky cap)
One bar of goat's-milk soap (bought at Bedford Cheese today)
Place all ingredients into rubber chicken-shaped purse. Get on the B61 bus. Sip your water right before you get off the bus, but make sure you don't close the cap tightly. Sit on the bus, reading and gazing out the window and the beautiful day. Put water bottle back into your bag.
Shake it up a little bit.
Get off the bus in Fort Greene, by the Walt Whitman Projects. Notice the water dripping onto your foot. Plunge your hand into your chicken-shaped purse to find....cell phone soup! Yay! Tasty AND incommunicado!
So, yes. That's what's happening. After a fit of rage and then a fit of crying, I seem to be mostly over it. Ugh. When will I be a grownup?!
(Also, to my own...whatever...it WAS an accident. At least I wasn't wasted this time, right? Eh.)
This time? Let's just say I made a nice pot of cell phone soup today. Here's the recipe:
Ingredients:
One cell phone
One bottle of water (make sure it has a leaky cap)
One bar of goat's-milk soap (bought at Bedford Cheese today)
Place all ingredients into rubber chicken-shaped purse. Get on the B61 bus. Sip your water right before you get off the bus, but make sure you don't close the cap tightly. Sit on the bus, reading and gazing out the window and the beautiful day. Put water bottle back into your bag.
Shake it up a little bit.
Get off the bus in Fort Greene, by the Walt Whitman Projects. Notice the water dripping onto your foot. Plunge your hand into your chicken-shaped purse to find....cell phone soup! Yay! Tasty AND incommunicado!
So, yes. That's what's happening. After a fit of rage and then a fit of crying, I seem to be mostly over it. Ugh. When will I be a grownup?!
(Also, to my own...whatever...it WAS an accident. At least I wasn't wasted this time, right? Eh.)
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Watch out if you're unzipped!
I told Craig that I'm going to Alabama for a week in the summer. He said:
"You dig up old veteran's graves, hug them, tell them it is ok they seceeded, you forgive them, and then bury them again?"
He knows me too well!
(Given, a year ago RIGHT NOW is the period of time where we'd be at CFA together until approx. 1:00 in the morning every day. Doing work. But also jumping over chairs, running away from perceived ghsots, and/or using BUSTAMFOP money to buy hot dogs.)
So, my parents were in town! I neglected to mention that. They arrived on Monday morning and we immediately started picking at each other. But....in a loving way? Right? We ate a disgusting amount of fried Polish food of all different varieties at Kasia's, then went to Brooklyn Heights where they each uttered their catchphrase, "Look at this joint!," at least five times apiece. I knew they would like it there. We walked across the Brooklyn Bridge and then wandered around Chinatown trying to buy I <3 NY t-shirts to send to Evan in Africa. I nearly lost my mind because of the Asian ladies GRABBING ME and yelling "You want bag?" but this was redeemend when I saw a Jesus-on-the-cross statue that said "THE PRINCE OF PEA" underneath. There just wasn't room for that "CE," I guess. And it made all the difference.
After this we yelled at each other some more, jovially...then had more food at Island Burger. Then we were dismayed to find out that the L train wasn't running....at all...from Manhattan to Brooklyn....so we took an epic trek involving the 6, the J, and walking fifteen blocks. More yelling ensued. Then they drove me to Erin's, where Erin, Jacob and I consumed large quantities of the Champagne of Beers and played Karaoke Revolution until Frenchie pounded violently on the ceiling. (The remarkable thing was that he wasn't sent over the egde by Come Sail Away, or Bohemian Rhapsody, or even Rihanna's Unfaithful-- no. It was My Heart Will Go On.) I mean, it WAS 1:30 AM on a Monday, but wtf needs sleep?
Next morning I bussed, belatedly, back to the burg, beaten there by Brother (cousin, Amish joke) Matthew. Parents got there after being stuck on the BQE for an hour and a half. Good moods prevailed! No, actually, everyone was happy after we had donuts at Peter Pan. We ate at Kasia's again, so Matt could have Polish food, and everyone went their separate ways. I immediately rode my bike around the neighborhood, trying to remember to use the handbrakes and not futilely jam my heels back when I needed to stop. It's going to take some getting used to. Later, I rode it to the Greenpoint library and checked out some Walt Whitman. Obviously this is some sort of phase. Erin and Jacob agree that I'm getting spoiled by my 'hood. I think they're right.
And now I'm at work. Let's hope I actually do something productive today.
"You dig up old veteran's graves, hug them, tell them it is ok they seceeded, you forgive them, and then bury them again?"
He knows me too well!
(Given, a year ago RIGHT NOW is the period of time where we'd be at CFA together until approx. 1:00 in the morning every day. Doing work. But also jumping over chairs, running away from perceived ghsots, and/or using BUSTAMFOP money to buy hot dogs.)
So, my parents were in town! I neglected to mention that. They arrived on Monday morning and we immediately started picking at each other. But....in a loving way? Right? We ate a disgusting amount of fried Polish food of all different varieties at Kasia's, then went to Brooklyn Heights where they each uttered their catchphrase, "Look at this joint!," at least five times apiece. I knew they would like it there. We walked across the Brooklyn Bridge and then wandered around Chinatown trying to buy I <3 NY t-shirts to send to Evan in Africa. I nearly lost my mind because of the Asian ladies GRABBING ME and yelling "You want bag?" but this was redeemend when I saw a Jesus-on-the-cross statue that said "THE PRINCE OF PEA" underneath. There just wasn't room for that "CE," I guess. And it made all the difference.
After this we yelled at each other some more, jovially...then had more food at Island Burger. Then we were dismayed to find out that the L train wasn't running....at all...from Manhattan to Brooklyn....so we took an epic trek involving the 6, the J, and walking fifteen blocks. More yelling ensued. Then they drove me to Erin's, where Erin, Jacob and I consumed large quantities of the Champagne of Beers and played Karaoke Revolution until Frenchie pounded violently on the ceiling. (The remarkable thing was that he wasn't sent over the egde by Come Sail Away, or Bohemian Rhapsody, or even Rihanna's Unfaithful-- no. It was My Heart Will Go On.) I mean, it WAS 1:30 AM on a Monday, but wtf needs sleep?
Next morning I bussed, belatedly, back to the burg, beaten there by Brother (cousin, Amish joke) Matthew. Parents got there after being stuck on the BQE for an hour and a half. Good moods prevailed! No, actually, everyone was happy after we had donuts at Peter Pan. We ate at Kasia's again, so Matt could have Polish food, and everyone went their separate ways. I immediately rode my bike around the neighborhood, trying to remember to use the handbrakes and not futilely jam my heels back when I needed to stop. It's going to take some getting used to. Later, I rode it to the Greenpoint library and checked out some Walt Whitman. Obviously this is some sort of phase. Erin and Jacob agree that I'm getting spoiled by my 'hood. I think they're right.
And now I'm at work. Let's hope I actually do something productive today.
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