Thank God It’s Sunday. We finally have our apartment back to ourselves, so we can lounge around in pajamas and feel lazy. Week of My German Roommate has ended happily with she happily moved (with movers, thank god) into a nice room in a massive renovated house that looks like the pub from “Shaun of the Dead” inhabited by Friendly Gay Doctor and Hetero Marketing Rep who walks around with no shirt on. Zaniness is certain to ensue.
I celebrated by laying around, reading New Yorkers and running errands. And, acting spontaneously.
Spontaneity Example #1: 9:40pm: Watching Real Time with Bill Maher, Gary Kasparov introduced. Having just read a really interesting piece about him and his attempt to reform Russian politics (see reading New Yorkers) I said:
Me: I really want to learn to play chess.
DG: Yeah. I think you would like it. Hey! Let’s go get a chess set!
So, we raced to our local Target and had chess set and bottle of wine in hand by 10:05pm. I don’t recommend wine + chess for learning purposes, but for freeing your mind to see the dimensions of the board, it totally rocks. I think I’ve got the hang of it. It’s a lot like holding the plot of the Godfather films in your head, so I think I will enjoy it.
Speaking of spontaneity, we went to an AIGA event at this local furniture store last week. It was awesome. In the midst of a presentation by the owners (who I have dubbed Eames-Richmond) I realized how much I love furniture. I kind of realized it when I had an emotional moment in the Art Nouveau collection at the VMFA (the enormity of this collection, and the free admission to wander through it is one of the best things about this city, thanks so Sidney & Frances Lewis who should have major publications banging down their door to write a piece honoring their contribution to modern art collecting pronto) and wanted to pull a “From the Mixed Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler” , curl up on the Ruhlmann “Sun Bed” and spend some quality time with the furniture.
Granted, I don’t own anything close to the authentic/design-relevant pieces they sell--but I just so enjoyed listening to the owners talk about how their collection started, and why chairs matter and how you shouldn’t just fill a room with furniture for the sake of it.
So, my friend PB bought this chair and and has suffered endless questions from friends. I mean, I can’t afford something in that price range right now, but I fully defend his aesthetic desire to own it. And, I to sit on it at his next party. Unfortunately, one acquaintance justified it this way, “My friend bought a $2,000 chair that has speakers.”
And on that note, I will pick up Project Bedroom where we left off.
Sunday, October 28, 2007
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Patience Limited
So, we saw “Darjeeling Limited” last night during a special press screening. That’s right NYC and LA dwellers— “limited release” is the real deal when you live outside of a metropolis.
I enjoyed the look of “Hotel Chevalier,” but I’m convinced all of the Y-chromosome reviewers are panting over it because it features a naked Natalie Portman, not the colors, set design, etc. I was more taken with the details of the hotel room then Ms. P’s glorious butt scene, but that’s just me.
I enjoyed DL. Not as much as I’ve enjoyed other Wes Anderson flicks, it doesn’t have the same melancholy note of “Rushmore” or “Royal Tennenbaums,” but it was fun to watch in the kind of western romanticized vision of what India is, looks like, etc. I also felt like I was watching a zany Beatles movie crossed with a J.D. Salinger short story. The cinematography was great, and I never turn down a chance to see Adrien Brody onscreen. And, it was low on quirk, which I found quite appealing. I was pretty disappointed with “Life Aquatic,” and felt I was watching a movie in translation inspired by a Richard Scarry template.
Anyway, immediately after the film, Fox Searchlight had a rep who came up to us and said “So, can I get a quote on what you thought?” Both DG and myself were still dumbstruck with “Uh, um. . . “ still processing, but not so the other 5 reviewers who attacked the film like a bunch of jackals.
“It was so long. I just couldn’t wait for the credits!”
“How was I supposed to feel about these characters? It gave me no feeling.”
“I loved the short, but the rest of it was boring.”
“I get it, I get it already. Anjelica Huston’s character was too unbelievable.”
“Jason Schwartzman is so short.”
“He writes so much better when Owen Wilson is involved.” (THAT I agree with)
WTF? I am all for critical debate, but nerd-style-guerilla-commentary not so much. It was as if they wanted to be THE FIRST ONE to say something witty. Sadly, they just sounded like embittered geeks with a knee-jerk response. This is all the kind of jockeying I just loathe. Even more so after attempting to make even short films. I just think a reaction deserves at least as much time to percolate as the time you spent in the film. ‘Nuff said.
I enjoyed the look of “Hotel Chevalier,” but I’m convinced all of the Y-chromosome reviewers are panting over it because it features a naked Natalie Portman, not the colors, set design, etc. I was more taken with the details of the hotel room then Ms. P’s glorious butt scene, but that’s just me.
I enjoyed DL. Not as much as I’ve enjoyed other Wes Anderson flicks, it doesn’t have the same melancholy note of “Rushmore” or “Royal Tennenbaums,” but it was fun to watch in the kind of western romanticized vision of what India is, looks like, etc. I also felt like I was watching a zany Beatles movie crossed with a J.D. Salinger short story. The cinematography was great, and I never turn down a chance to see Adrien Brody onscreen. And, it was low on quirk, which I found quite appealing. I was pretty disappointed with “Life Aquatic,” and felt I was watching a movie in translation inspired by a Richard Scarry template.
Anyway, immediately after the film, Fox Searchlight had a rep who came up to us and said “So, can I get a quote on what you thought?” Both DG and myself were still dumbstruck with “Uh, um. . . “ still processing, but not so the other 5 reviewers who attacked the film like a bunch of jackals.
“It was so long. I just couldn’t wait for the credits!”
“How was I supposed to feel about these characters? It gave me no feeling.”
“I loved the short, but the rest of it was boring.”
“I get it, I get it already. Anjelica Huston’s character was too unbelievable.”
“Jason Schwartzman is so short.”
“He writes so much better when Owen Wilson is involved.” (THAT I agree with)
WTF? I am all for critical debate, but nerd-style-guerilla-commentary not so much. It was as if they wanted to be THE FIRST ONE to say something witty. Sadly, they just sounded like embittered geeks with a knee-jerk response. This is all the kind of jockeying I just loathe. Even more so after attempting to make even short films. I just think a reaction deserves at least as much time to percolate as the time you spent in the film. ‘Nuff said.
Friday, October 19, 2007
The Return of Barf Friday
Though I did not think it was possible, this week HAS gotten worse. Unbelievable. Here is a re-cap from yesterday to present:
1. Had very bad meeting with directors of local arts orgs* who love nothing more than to complain.
2. The "alternative" mag DG writes movie reviews for folded because the mega-mediocre-media company that runs it once it to be less edgy.
3. I fell down on the median of very posh street while running and hurt my knee.
4. Walking into my apt. parking lot this morning, ran into my neighbor who found a wallet in our garden. Apparently, someone was robbed and the culprit decided to take a seat in our backyard and rifle through the wallet.
5. Frustrated!
I am getting so tired of the backstabbing, unfriendly mentality of this place. Argh.
1. Had very bad meeting with directors of local arts orgs* who love nothing more than to complain.
2. The "alternative" mag DG writes movie reviews for folded because the mega-mediocre-media company that runs it once it to be less edgy.
3. I fell down on the median of very posh street while running and hurt my knee.
4. Walking into my apt. parking lot this morning, ran into my neighbor who found a wallet in our garden. Apparently, someone was robbed and the culprit decided to take a seat in our backyard and rifle through the wallet.
5. Frustrated!
I am getting so tired of the backstabbing, unfriendly mentality of this place. Argh.
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Drama Rama
What is up with this week??? The planets must be in some terrible stress knot that is just tightening and tightening.
1. I have been sucked into some bad relationship drama usually reserved for Judge Judy. A "friend" of DGs--who he only knows socially through soccer--decided to break up with his girlfriend. The drama involves her being here on a J1 Visa, being kicked out of the house they share, getting her cellphone turned off, having no friends/acquaintances but us in the area, living in BFE, trying to sell furniture (ownership of which is being disputed by crazed boyfriend), a $3,000 guitar, a great dane puppy and a whole lot of stress. It's like an "Arrested Development" episode but with no humor. I've tried to stay minimally involved, but it is so hard for me to not try to problem solve for others. Especially a problem this big. I have managed to realize that my life is quite simple in comparison, and through a series of avoiding a-holes and over-spending on stupid gifts for stupid people (see $3,000 guitar), I may actually have de-stressed my life.
2. We have mice. Two weeks ago I noticed some rustling in the kitchen and voila! A mouse went scurrying across the floor. Gross. DG was not too concerned, convinced it was only one and it would go away. Ha. What fools we mortals be. Now we have at least 2-3 and they are cheeky and intelligent. They avoided the humane trap like the plague (no pun intended) and so we were forced to get ugly and unveil the death trap. We went for the old fashioned spring-loaded kind, but they have outsmarted us again by eating the peanut butter straight from the trap and thumbing their tiny noses at death. Except for two of their comrades who were not so smart. A moment of silence.
3. Arts group mayhem. Every few months, the arts groups we represent, help fund, etc. act like petulant, whiny children and freak out on us. As in, "What do you do for us, anyway?" "We don't get enough money," etc. "You don't care about XXX, you only care about XX" And, complete misinformation. So, I spend most of my day shooting out far too thought out and eloquent e-mails to put out fires only to have someone else gets snarky about not getting enough money. It's like Christmas with a dysfunctional family.
4. Stalled home improvement project. We cannot seem to find the time to put our new bed together and switch our office and bedroom. So, instead of having a 2-bedroom apartment, we have a 1-bedroom with additional room of furniture. Annoying!
5. I'm sure there's something else.
1. I have been sucked into some bad relationship drama usually reserved for Judge Judy. A "friend" of DGs--who he only knows socially through soccer--decided to break up with his girlfriend. The drama involves her being here on a J1 Visa, being kicked out of the house they share, getting her cellphone turned off, having no friends/acquaintances but us in the area, living in BFE, trying to sell furniture (ownership of which is being disputed by crazed boyfriend), a $3,000 guitar, a great dane puppy and a whole lot of stress. It's like an "Arrested Development" episode but with no humor. I've tried to stay minimally involved, but it is so hard for me to not try to problem solve for others. Especially a problem this big. I have managed to realize that my life is quite simple in comparison, and through a series of avoiding a-holes and over-spending on stupid gifts for stupid people (see $3,000 guitar), I may actually have de-stressed my life.
2. We have mice. Two weeks ago I noticed some rustling in the kitchen and voila! A mouse went scurrying across the floor. Gross. DG was not too concerned, convinced it was only one and it would go away. Ha. What fools we mortals be. Now we have at least 2-3 and they are cheeky and intelligent. They avoided the humane trap like the plague (no pun intended) and so we were forced to get ugly and unveil the death trap. We went for the old fashioned spring-loaded kind, but they have outsmarted us again by eating the peanut butter straight from the trap and thumbing their tiny noses at death. Except for two of their comrades who were not so smart. A moment of silence.
3. Arts group mayhem. Every few months, the arts groups we represent, help fund, etc. act like petulant, whiny children and freak out on us. As in, "What do you do for us, anyway?" "We don't get enough money," etc. "You don't care about XXX, you only care about XX" And, complete misinformation. So, I spend most of my day shooting out far too thought out and eloquent e-mails to put out fires only to have someone else gets snarky about not getting enough money. It's like Christmas with a dysfunctional family.
4. Stalled home improvement project. We cannot seem to find the time to put our new bed together and switch our office and bedroom. So, instead of having a 2-bedroom apartment, we have a 1-bedroom with additional room of furniture. Annoying!
5. I'm sure there's something else.
Sunday, October 14, 2007
Of Cheetahs and Men
So, a friend of mine who was/is a graphic designer briefly worked on some flyers, t-shirst, etc. with a guy from Namibia. They went out one evening to a club and the guy saw a girl with a cheetah print handbag. He suddenly got really angry and said: "Everyone have the cheetah print t-shirt! Oh, they think the the cheetah so cool. The cheetah on the bag. I have friends who die from cheetah. The cheetah kill you, man. The cheetah the devil!!"
Needless to say, this story stuck with me. When it seems an appropriate metaphor, I shout out to DG, "The cheetah the devil!" You, know, like when people are shocked that wild animals attack (thanks, YouTube) or are surprised that guns kill people, or that there are no WMD in Iraq and our governement lied to us. "Cheetah the devil," applies to so many things because it is a simples statement that is true. Kind of like the immortal words of my crazy Boston landlady when my roomates ferrets escaped while she was showing the apartment: "What is that look like cat, not cat?"
Okay, so today, "Cheetah the devil" = writer's block. It is the real deal, let me tell you. I used to joke about it, it sounds like a weak excuse, but it is real, man. I have so much to say about absolutely nothing, you may find it surprising that focusing on one topic wouldn't be easier. I try to clear out time all week/end to work on my writing, but as soon as I get in a space to do it all I want to do are terrible things, like clean the apartment or go to the grocery store--errands that produce something tangible. Okay, so maybe it's not the writing that is difficult, but the editing/arranging. I'll come clean, I'm working on a series of short stories/book length piece. I've been working on them since 2004. That is a stupid LONG time. Some are done, some may never be done, others are in progress. I've had a long standing writer's group that provides solid feedback, real edits/ideas/suggestions. But here I sit, staring at multiple piles of paper trying to rearrange scenes like a crazy Frankenstein. Ack.
Though I feel like a drama queen admitting it, sometimes, I feel like Mr. Don Music from Sesame Street. The "Self-critical composer with a writing block." I most identify with how he would crash his head onto the keyboard and paper would fly everywhere.
I've started to ferret (that's right, twice in one entry!) away weird tidbits of information about people I meet to use for later. Like the Fred Flinsone-looking tax preparer who cornered me in a mind-numbing conversation regarding stolen logos, and as he pulled out his biz card a black plastic comb feel out and I made a mental note to mark the importance of the comb. Or, as my trainwreck of a co-worker rambled on about inappropriate invitations at a wedding she attended and made comments like "I'll just say she was raised right." to indicate why one type of stationery paper was superior and the other marked the mother-of-the-groom a middle-class rube, I was simultaneously processing how sad it makes me Trainwreck is so hellbent to let me know she falls into the "right" category while she reeks of alcohol in the middle of the day.
Like I said to DG the other day, "Peoples are a mess."
Needless to say, this story stuck with me. When it seems an appropriate metaphor, I shout out to DG, "The cheetah the devil!" You, know, like when people are shocked that wild animals attack (thanks, YouTube) or are surprised that guns kill people, or that there are no WMD in Iraq and our governement lied to us. "Cheetah the devil," applies to so many things because it is a simples statement that is true. Kind of like the immortal words of my crazy Boston landlady when my roomates ferrets escaped while she was showing the apartment: "What is that look like cat, not cat?"
Okay, so today, "Cheetah the devil" = writer's block. It is the real deal, let me tell you. I used to joke about it, it sounds like a weak excuse, but it is real, man. I have so much to say about absolutely nothing, you may find it surprising that focusing on one topic wouldn't be easier. I try to clear out time all week/end to work on my writing, but as soon as I get in a space to do it all I want to do are terrible things, like clean the apartment or go to the grocery store--errands that produce something tangible. Okay, so maybe it's not the writing that is difficult, but the editing/arranging. I'll come clean, I'm working on a series of short stories/book length piece. I've been working on them since 2004. That is a stupid LONG time. Some are done, some may never be done, others are in progress. I've had a long standing writer's group that provides solid feedback, real edits/ideas/suggestions. But here I sit, staring at multiple piles of paper trying to rearrange scenes like a crazy Frankenstein. Ack.
Though I feel like a drama queen admitting it, sometimes, I feel like Mr. Don Music from Sesame Street. The "Self-critical composer with a writing block." I most identify with how he would crash his head onto the keyboard and paper would fly everywhere.
I've started to ferret (that's right, twice in one entry!) away weird tidbits of information about people I meet to use for later. Like the Fred Flinsone-looking tax preparer who cornered me in a mind-numbing conversation regarding stolen logos, and as he pulled out his biz card a black plastic comb feel out and I made a mental note to mark the importance of the comb. Or, as my trainwreck of a co-worker rambled on about inappropriate invitations at a wedding she attended and made comments like "I'll just say she was raised right." to indicate why one type of stationery paper was superior and the other marked the mother-of-the-groom a middle-class rube, I was simultaneously processing how sad it makes me Trainwreck is so hellbent to let me know she falls into the "right" category while she reeks of alcohol in the middle of the day.
Like I said to DG the other day, "Peoples are a mess."
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Gilgamesh
I woke up this morning with one word in my head: Gilgamesh. You know, the mythological hero-king from Babylon??
The full dream: I was taking a class on a freighter docked in Manhattan. The class had something to do with the bible and we were supposed to read the text and then re-create (out of clay) a new modern biblical world.
Yowza.
Recipe for Strange Biblical Dreams:
1 tablet methocarbamol (muscle relaxant for bad back)
1 hour "Heroes"
Marinate overnight in the subconscious
It must be my Catholic upbrining, but every time I dream in biblical terms I get a little uneasy. Especially with the current state of the world. I don't want to have to live on a freighter and re-create the world out of clay like some weird twist on "And God created the world in 7 days." If only I had access to high-powered tv producers--my methocarbamol-induced dreams could make it to prime time!
Now, back to the real non-profit arts sitcom of my life. ..
The full dream: I was taking a class on a freighter docked in Manhattan. The class had something to do with the bible and we were supposed to read the text and then re-create (out of clay) a new modern biblical world.
Yowza.
Recipe for Strange Biblical Dreams:
1 tablet methocarbamol (muscle relaxant for bad back)
1 hour "Heroes"
Marinate overnight in the subconscious
It must be my Catholic upbrining, but every time I dream in biblical terms I get a little uneasy. Especially with the current state of the world. I don't want to have to live on a freighter and re-create the world out of clay like some weird twist on "And God created the world in 7 days." If only I had access to high-powered tv producers--my methocarbamol-induced dreams could make it to prime time!
Now, back to the real non-profit arts sitcom of my life. ..
Monday, October 8, 2007
Holiday!
See? See what a commitment-phobe I am to this space? I depress myself.
Happy Columbus Day!! I am celebrating my leaving work early. Hurray!
Okay, so, speaking of depression, DG and myself have been suffering from a severe case of ennui. Seriously. I think I get into a rut when I stay anywhere for longer than 3 years. I get bored and need a change of pace. I really miss being in a city. I haven't felt this antsy since my pre-Dublin year in the other (only) D. I think what it is is that, here, in the RIC, quality of life is super-high if you want to own a house, save money, raise a family. And there's nothing wrong with that, it's just not right for the place we are in our life right now. The things we love to do just aren't in abundance here, and I find the same stale arguments that kept people propping up Detroit as next scene, happening here as well. Granted, I can see Richmond gaining a good foothold and becoming a cool city with the great arts school, independent spirit, etc. But, that's going to take a few years and I just don't have them right now.
So, we want to move. The short list is: Seattle, Portland, DC. I would love to live in NYC, but I just don't think we can swing it. If anyone (see, i assume someone might be reading this) has any suggestions, toss them over here. As long as it's not a place that gets too cold, put it on the list.
Short term, we're re-arranging the apartment. I think we have not been utilizing the space correctly. I'm hoping expanding our work space and shrinking our sleep space will broaden our horizons. How feng shui of me.
Non-Sequitor: Did anyone happen to see the AmEx ad with a list of favorites from Beyonce? She has some crazy capitalization problems as in "Favorite Place: On a Boat with my family or anyone I love." or "Weirdest Gift: Rhinestone Pedicure Toe Separators"--I wish I were joking) I guess some things falls by the wayside when you become a superstar at 18. I would trade my superior capitalization skills and use of proper nouns correctly for vacationing in St. Tropez.
I'm off to holiday.
Happy Columbus Day!! I am celebrating my leaving work early. Hurray!
Okay, so, speaking of depression, DG and myself have been suffering from a severe case of ennui. Seriously. I think I get into a rut when I stay anywhere for longer than 3 years. I get bored and need a change of pace. I really miss being in a city. I haven't felt this antsy since my pre-Dublin year in the other (only) D. I think what it is is that, here, in the RIC, quality of life is super-high if you want to own a house, save money, raise a family. And there's nothing wrong with that, it's just not right for the place we are in our life right now. The things we love to do just aren't in abundance here, and I find the same stale arguments that kept people propping up Detroit as next scene, happening here as well. Granted, I can see Richmond gaining a good foothold and becoming a cool city with the great arts school, independent spirit, etc. But, that's going to take a few years and I just don't have them right now.
So, we want to move. The short list is: Seattle, Portland, DC. I would love to live in NYC, but I just don't think we can swing it. If anyone (see, i assume someone might be reading this) has any suggestions, toss them over here. As long as it's not a place that gets too cold, put it on the list.
Short term, we're re-arranging the apartment. I think we have not been utilizing the space correctly. I'm hoping expanding our work space and shrinking our sleep space will broaden our horizons. How feng shui of me.
Non-Sequitor: Did anyone happen to see the AmEx ad with a list of favorites from Beyonce? She has some crazy capitalization problems as in "Favorite Place: On a Boat with my family or anyone I love." or "Weirdest Gift: Rhinestone Pedicure Toe Separators"--I wish I were joking) I guess some things falls by the wayside when you become a superstar at 18. I would trade my superior capitalization skills and use of proper nouns correctly for vacationing in St. Tropez.
I'm off to holiday.
Monday, September 3, 2007
I am absolutely committed to maintaining my A-Game when it comes to this blog. I mean it! So, get ready for a round-up:
WORK: Laid down the law with ineffectual, unpaid "interim" director who is so completely Mr. Grant in more and more ways every day. Remarkably, my complaints/concerns were heard. Still, the mess of a development director and her bird-like idiocy, racist comments is still employed in all of her aerobic-appareled glory. Yes, she wears her work-out wear to WORK. Sometimes, I pretend that I'm on Candid Camera. Problem is, I'm not.
PLAY: Went to see Superbad and loved every second of it. It totally reminded me of "Clerks" with a twist of "Sixteen Candles." Some reviews keep harping on the "immature" subject matter and tone, but hello, it's teenage boys. The writing was so fantastic and dead-on. And, I really enjoyed the fact that they took the bus. Woo-hoo public transportation!
WORK NOT WORK: I am now writing for a new local magazine! In this city, I feel like Carrie Bradshaw when it comes to writing assignments. One thing small southeastern towns with good arts schools have is smaller groups of like-minded people with less baggage which makes it easier to get interesting writing gigs. Even Detroit was snooty-palooty when it came to getting freelance jobs. Soooo, I'm very excited to be able to write about something other than new media, arts & culture stuff. My first story is about two girls who opened a little boutique that sells really interesting home goods--the place looked like a Domino spread, not exactly inspired, but definitely beats the overload of whimsical toile home decor I usually see in the stores here. They had a very cool pillow by this designer that I wanted to stuff into my too small handbag. Next up, a possible story on a local couple who collect modern furniture.
SPEND: I finally broke down and bought a headboard (in oatmeal, not bachelor black) and bed frame. Let's hope Target doesn't let me down. Though DG doesn't know it, I've been crafting my dream bedroom after this cover story for the last year or so. I actually found dressers that nearly matched what was in the spread for a steal, and I'm totally going for this color palette with a slightly more masculine/modern feel. He'll never be the wiser (insert cackle here)!
HEALTH: I've been working out like a MoFo (4 times a week, which may not be MoFo for many, but is like Lara Croft style behavior for me) after weighing myself and being so shocked I assumed I had a tumor. I like to pretend that my head weighs about 30lbs., but I can't pretend any longer. I am feeling a lot better and sleeping like a champion, so it turns out exercise IS good for you. Nothing beats my old red wine, cigarettes and cheese diet, but I've smartly quit the cigs (though "Mad Men" gets me itching for just a puff) and as I'm now settling in to the reality of being a 30-something, cheese and red wine just don't cut it anymore.
FUN: This town has finally got a real music venue! When I moved here three years ago (egads!) I was convined I'd moved to the town from Footloose. The music scene sucked the big one and until the last few months, we had to drive to DC to see anyone that wasn't "Air Supply," or "Spin Doctors." I'm serious--those acts actually came here, probably in the last year. But, no more! Wilco is coming to Charlottesville, Regena Spektor is coming to the new venue and the future looks bright. Thank the lord!
WORK: Laid down the law with ineffectual, unpaid "interim" director who is so completely Mr. Grant in more and more ways every day. Remarkably, my complaints/concerns were heard. Still, the mess of a development director and her bird-like idiocy, racist comments is still employed in all of her aerobic-appareled glory. Yes, she wears her work-out wear to WORK. Sometimes, I pretend that I'm on Candid Camera. Problem is, I'm not.
PLAY: Went to see Superbad and loved every second of it. It totally reminded me of "Clerks" with a twist of "Sixteen Candles." Some reviews keep harping on the "immature" subject matter and tone, but hello, it's teenage boys. The writing was so fantastic and dead-on. And, I really enjoyed the fact that they took the bus. Woo-hoo public transportation!
WORK NOT WORK: I am now writing for a new local magazine! In this city, I feel like Carrie Bradshaw when it comes to writing assignments. One thing small southeastern towns with good arts schools have is smaller groups of like-minded people with less baggage which makes it easier to get interesting writing gigs. Even Detroit was snooty-palooty when it came to getting freelance jobs. Soooo, I'm very excited to be able to write about something other than new media, arts & culture stuff. My first story is about two girls who opened a little boutique that sells really interesting home goods--the place looked like a Domino spread, not exactly inspired, but definitely beats the overload of whimsical toile home decor I usually see in the stores here. They had a very cool pillow by this designer that I wanted to stuff into my too small handbag. Next up, a possible story on a local couple who collect modern furniture.
SPEND: I finally broke down and bought a headboard (in oatmeal, not bachelor black) and bed frame. Let's hope Target doesn't let me down. Though DG doesn't know it, I've been crafting my dream bedroom after this cover story for the last year or so. I actually found dressers that nearly matched what was in the spread for a steal, and I'm totally going for this color palette with a slightly more masculine/modern feel. He'll never be the wiser (insert cackle here)!
HEALTH: I've been working out like a MoFo (4 times a week, which may not be MoFo for many, but is like Lara Croft style behavior for me) after weighing myself and being so shocked I assumed I had a tumor. I like to pretend that my head weighs about 30lbs., but I can't pretend any longer. I am feeling a lot better and sleeping like a champion, so it turns out exercise IS good for you. Nothing beats my old red wine, cigarettes and cheese diet, but I've smartly quit the cigs (though "Mad Men" gets me itching for just a puff) and as I'm now settling in to the reality of being a 30-something, cheese and red wine just don't cut it anymore.
FUN: This town has finally got a real music venue! When I moved here three years ago (egads!) I was convined I'd moved to the town from Footloose. The music scene sucked the big one and until the last few months, we had to drive to DC to see anyone that wasn't "Air Supply," or "Spin Doctors." I'm serious--those acts actually came here, probably in the last year. But, no more! Wilco is coming to Charlottesville, Regena Spektor is coming to the new venue and the future looks bright. Thank the lord!
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
Ennui and Me
I’ve been suffering from summer ennui. The two words side by side look like an interesting Japanese dish, but in fact, there is nothing so adventurous about it.
In some recent excitement, I judged a fiction contest. I can safely say that 98.5% of what I read was painful and unreadable. As in “Galbraith raised his chalice and turned to me.” Or, one story about a team of cats taking over a woman’s house and stealing her baby. Or, another tedious tale of a publicist at a retirement home who painstakingly details her conversation with a WWII vet who speaks in platitudes. I do not joke. Luckily, one of my fellow writing workshop cohorts won first place! And, in an even stranger “Being Jon Malkovich"/"Whatever Happened to Baby Jane” identity stealing twist, I was asked to accept the award on her behalf since she had already left for grad school. It was really a bizarre experience to accept an award for someone else AND try to do their story justice by doing a reading. I also had a weird summer cold which gave me a slightly raspy voice. I hope I sounded like Joan Wilder in “Romancing the Stone.” Fun times!
So, the fiction reading and recent resurgence of interest in actually writing urged me off the couch on Sunday to Barnes & Noble. I really wanted to buy this book , but, since it was a ridiculous $22, I opted for his other acclaimed book . I’m nearly done with it, and it’s pretty good, but I’m getting a strong D.H. Lawrence, Virginia Woolf crossed with “Remains of the Day” re-heat. Not to mention the “tragic misunderstanding” which occurs is actually rather Seinfeld-esque*
If it were set current day, it would be called “Wedding Crashers.” I assume any female who has suffered through co-ed junior high has probably received letters far more disgusting, only to have to continue attending classes with the jackass who sent the letter and watch him triumph in popularity on the soccer field and, his only punishment being--as is apropos for such jackassiness—a slow wither into adulthood after attending a sub-par regional college no one has ever heard of, marriage to the height of female perfection in 1993, and a slowdive into mid-life crisis while his kids run rampant with his credit card and his life drifts out of view.
But, this is set in 1935, and lewd letters totally up the ante of morals, ruining a man’s life, etc. I mean, it’s a good way to get into the class issue, and I’m completely minimizing the expert way the drama unfolds, the descriptions, etc. but still. If it’s going to be dramatic I need full on intrigue or murder!
So, as the Summer Ennui crept into Reading Ennui, I turned on the telly and flipped between “The Hills” and “Kimora: Life in the Fab Lane.” I feel totally guilty even thinking it, but I kind of like her. She’s really kooky and crazy, and somewhat without self-awareness. Or maybe that’s her thing. Either way, she’s like a big gay man in a woman’s body and such performance cannot go missed. “The Hills” is kind of eh this season. Without the idiocy of Heidi’s whining about actually working and the Jason the Werewolf drama, it’s kind of boring.
Except for Audrina’s beau who is totally channeling Eddie Vedder or, Ethan Hawke in “Reality Bites,” or any guy who attended college between 1992-1994. It’s kind of funny to see Cool Guy Circa 1994 interacting with Cool Shiny Girls 2007. It’s hilarious, actually. Especially since he is totally trying to be the bad guy.
=
See, Summer Ennui taints everything! I tried reading the VF interview with Shia LaBouef, but it could not hold my interest. All the young male stars seem so non-masculine and interesting right now. I was all on board for Jake Gyllenhal and Heath Ledger, but that’s where it ends if they are under 35.
Alright, the complaint train is coming to an end. Next stop, lord only knows!
*Spoiler Alert: If you plan on reading the book, you may want to stop reading. Or, you may want to read it to save yourself 100+ pages of dramatic build-up:
Basically, it’s 1935, class system is totally “Gosford Park” (sans Clive Owen) and a house servant who has been educated by owner of the manor home (sent to Cambridge, ready to attend med school, yada yada) gets the hots for the daughter. So, he decides to write her a letter telling her as much, except he writes TWO letters one is completely lewd (as in “I want to kiss your cha-cha” lewd. Literally. Except he doesn’t say cha-cha, he says the other c-word), the other letter is “I love you, etc.” Guess which one he accidentally passes on to the youngest daughter to give to her sister? Yep. The lewd letter. Through a series of MAJOR misunderstandings, the younger sister assumes he is a maniac and he is accused of rape and sent to jail.
In some recent excitement, I judged a fiction contest. I can safely say that 98.5% of what I read was painful and unreadable. As in “Galbraith raised his chalice and turned to me.” Or, one story about a team of cats taking over a woman’s house and stealing her baby. Or, another tedious tale of a publicist at a retirement home who painstakingly details her conversation with a WWII vet who speaks in platitudes. I do not joke. Luckily, one of my fellow writing workshop cohorts won first place! And, in an even stranger “Being Jon Malkovich"/"Whatever Happened to Baby Jane” identity stealing twist, I was asked to accept the award on her behalf since she had already left for grad school. It was really a bizarre experience to accept an award for someone else AND try to do their story justice by doing a reading. I also had a weird summer cold which gave me a slightly raspy voice. I hope I sounded like Joan Wilder in “Romancing the Stone.” Fun times!
So, the fiction reading and recent resurgence of interest in actually writing urged me off the couch on Sunday to Barnes & Noble. I really wanted to buy this book , but, since it was a ridiculous $22, I opted for his other acclaimed book . I’m nearly done with it, and it’s pretty good, but I’m getting a strong D.H. Lawrence, Virginia Woolf crossed with “Remains of the Day” re-heat. Not to mention the “tragic misunderstanding” which occurs is actually rather Seinfeld-esque*
If it were set current day, it would be called “Wedding Crashers.” I assume any female who has suffered through co-ed junior high has probably received letters far more disgusting, only to have to continue attending classes with the jackass who sent the letter and watch him triumph in popularity on the soccer field and, his only punishment being--as is apropos for such jackassiness—a slow wither into adulthood after attending a sub-par regional college no one has ever heard of, marriage to the height of female perfection in 1993, and a slowdive into mid-life crisis while his kids run rampant with his credit card and his life drifts out of view.
But, this is set in 1935, and lewd letters totally up the ante of morals, ruining a man’s life, etc. I mean, it’s a good way to get into the class issue, and I’m completely minimizing the expert way the drama unfolds, the descriptions, etc. but still. If it’s going to be dramatic I need full on intrigue or murder!
So, as the Summer Ennui crept into Reading Ennui, I turned on the telly and flipped between “The Hills” and “Kimora: Life in the Fab Lane.” I feel totally guilty even thinking it, but I kind of like her. She’s really kooky and crazy, and somewhat without self-awareness. Or maybe that’s her thing. Either way, she’s like a big gay man in a woman’s body and such performance cannot go missed. “The Hills” is kind of eh this season. Without the idiocy of Heidi’s whining about actually working and the Jason the Werewolf drama, it’s kind of boring.
Except for Audrina’s beau who is totally channeling Eddie Vedder or, Ethan Hawke in “Reality Bites,” or any guy who attended college between 1992-1994. It’s kind of funny to see Cool Guy Circa 1994 interacting with Cool Shiny Girls 2007. It’s hilarious, actually. Especially since he is totally trying to be the bad guy.
+
=
See, Summer Ennui taints everything! I tried reading the VF interview with Shia LaBouef, but it could not hold my interest. All the young male stars seem so non-masculine and interesting right now. I was all on board for Jake Gyllenhal and Heath Ledger, but that’s where it ends if they are under 35.
Alright, the complaint train is coming to an end. Next stop, lord only knows!
*Spoiler Alert: If you plan on reading the book, you may want to stop reading. Or, you may want to read it to save yourself 100+ pages of dramatic build-up:
Basically, it’s 1935, class system is totally “Gosford Park” (sans Clive Owen) and a house servant who has been educated by owner of the manor home (sent to Cambridge, ready to attend med school, yada yada) gets the hots for the daughter. So, he decides to write her a letter telling her as much, except he writes TWO letters one is completely lewd (as in “I want to kiss your cha-cha” lewd. Literally. Except he doesn’t say cha-cha, he says the other c-word), the other letter is “I love you, etc.” Guess which one he accidentally passes on to the youngest daughter to give to her sister? Yep. The lewd letter. Through a series of MAJOR misunderstandings, the younger sister assumes he is a maniac and he is accused of rape and sent to jail.
Sunday, August 19, 2007
Babies And TV
Reading: The latest issue of Entertainment Weekly with "All the Buzz on 120 New Films!"
Drinking: Coffee
Thinking: Why is Patrick Dempsey considered hot?
I understand the whole "McDreamy" shtick, but I will only ever remember him as Ronald Miller from "Can't Buy Me Love." Therefore, he is forever a geek who can't dance who's younger brother (played by Seth Green, nonetheless) is cooler than him. How am I supposed to erase those memories and switch to "Oh, he's so hot!" In fact, on many occasions I completely confuse him for John Cryer. Take that popular opinion!
Watching: Mad Men on AMC
Thinking: Best new show on television since, since. . . "Flight of the Conchords." MM is fantastic. The production value is that of a big budget period film. Seriously, the clothes, the office furniture, the tiny details (cigarette holders on every available surface, the furniture in the apartments and houses.) The list goes on and on. It's like walking into a John Cheever story--suburban angst, pregnant housewives who smoke and drink, mysogynist husbands. It's got it all! More importantly, it covers the beginning of the advertising golden age which is very interesting. Actually, it's the first non-criminal television show since, I dunno some legal show, that actually takes an industry and makes it a jumping off point for personal drama. I mean, on every other show, the characters' jobs are completely passenger seat to the plot. But on this show, profession and character are linked. And that kind of thing I love. So, watch it!
Listening To: Syrius Satellite in my car. I got six-months free with my new lease and I have no idea how I lived with the crap that passes for music on regular radio. I actually get the BBC and a billion other interesting channels. Granted, I only have a 5-minute commute to work (I know, I should walk), but it's like listening to your roommate's music. I know, welcome to the 21st century.
Planning/Executing: A hostile takeover of a non-profit arts agency that shall remain nameless and a baby shower. The former has yet to occur, while the latter went off swimmingly yesterday afternoon. Four of us planned it for our first pregnant friend, and we managed it with military precision. I was in charge of party favors (I firmly believe if you are 1) asking someone to give up their Saturday afternoon for what is essentially a birthday party for the unknown and 2) receiving gifts, then you need to give some sort of "thank you" gift.) , coffee prep and The Cake. I'm totally not a fan of the 6-hour baby shower with tacky baby motif, so I was ecstatic to work with like-minded individuals. Since she doesn't know the sex of the baby, we did a subtle question mark theme (careful to avoid Joker-esque proportions) and played only one game which involved a tray of baby-related items. There are some crazy baby accoutrement out there these days. Anyway, it was fun, we drank mimosas and only one person got self-righteous about breast feeding, so we deemed it a success.
Missing: DG who has been in England for two weeks! Actually, I don't mind having some alone time, but after about, day 7, the novelty wears off and I get empty-nesty and, more importantly, have no one to share my commentary. He had to go back for an eye exam. I suppose we could have investigated the price of an appointment here, but since there was a fear he may have to get some sort of laser procedure done, we decided not to risk bankruptcy. And, who doesn't want to visit England when the US is going through a god-awful heat wave? Right after he left, with the heat index and everything included, it hit 120 degrees here. Unreal.
Wanting: A new bedframe. I found a fantastic headboard at Target.com but there was some sentiment that it looked too "1950s Paris," which I consider a completely prejudicial assumption as the actual headboard has straight lines. It's not like it was some sort of sea-foam "Peyton Place" looking thing.
Thinking: I need another cup of coffee.
Drinking: Coffee
Thinking: Why is Patrick Dempsey considered hot?
I understand the whole "McDreamy" shtick, but I will only ever remember him as Ronald Miller from "Can't Buy Me Love." Therefore, he is forever a geek who can't dance who's younger brother (played by Seth Green, nonetheless) is cooler than him. How am I supposed to erase those memories and switch to "Oh, he's so hot!" In fact, on many occasions I completely confuse him for John Cryer. Take that popular opinion!
Watching: Mad Men on AMC
Thinking: Best new show on television since, since. . . "Flight of the Conchords." MM is fantastic. The production value is that of a big budget period film. Seriously, the clothes, the office furniture, the tiny details (cigarette holders on every available surface, the furniture in the apartments and houses.) The list goes on and on. It's like walking into a John Cheever story--suburban angst, pregnant housewives who smoke and drink, mysogynist husbands. It's got it all! More importantly, it covers the beginning of the advertising golden age which is very interesting. Actually, it's the first non-criminal television show since, I dunno some legal show, that actually takes an industry and makes it a jumping off point for personal drama. I mean, on every other show, the characters' jobs are completely passenger seat to the plot. But on this show, profession and character are linked. And that kind of thing I love. So, watch it!
Listening To: Syrius Satellite in my car. I got six-months free with my new lease and I have no idea how I lived with the crap that passes for music on regular radio. I actually get the BBC and a billion other interesting channels. Granted, I only have a 5-minute commute to work (I know, I should walk), but it's like listening to your roommate's music. I know, welcome to the 21st century.
Planning/Executing: A hostile takeover of a non-profit arts agency that shall remain nameless and a baby shower. The former has yet to occur, while the latter went off swimmingly yesterday afternoon. Four of us planned it for our first pregnant friend, and we managed it with military precision. I was in charge of party favors (I firmly believe if you are 1) asking someone to give up their Saturday afternoon for what is essentially a birthday party for the unknown and 2) receiving gifts, then you need to give some sort of "thank you" gift.) , coffee prep and The Cake. I'm totally not a fan of the 6-hour baby shower with tacky baby motif, so I was ecstatic to work with like-minded individuals. Since she doesn't know the sex of the baby, we did a subtle question mark theme (careful to avoid Joker-esque proportions) and played only one game which involved a tray of baby-related items. There are some crazy baby accoutrement out there these days. Anyway, it was fun, we drank mimosas and only one person got self-righteous about breast feeding, so we deemed it a success.
Missing: DG who has been in England for two weeks! Actually, I don't mind having some alone time, but after about, day 7, the novelty wears off and I get empty-nesty and, more importantly, have no one to share my commentary. He had to go back for an eye exam. I suppose we could have investigated the price of an appointment here, but since there was a fear he may have to get some sort of laser procedure done, we decided not to risk bankruptcy. And, who doesn't want to visit England when the US is going through a god-awful heat wave? Right after he left, with the heat index and everything included, it hit 120 degrees here. Unreal.
Wanting: A new bedframe. I found a fantastic headboard at Target.com but there was some sentiment that it looked too "1950s Paris," which I consider a completely prejudicial assumption as the actual headboard has straight lines. It's not like it was some sort of sea-foam "Peyton Place" looking thing.
Thinking: I need another cup of coffee.
Thursday, August 9, 2007
New digs, new day, new kvetching. . .
Okay, so I'm in my car yesterday--it's 100 degrees here in the Old Dominion--my hands melting into the steering wheel, listening to my new Sirius Satellite radio and what does the DJ tell me?
Morrissey is in negotiations to join Blink 182.
I'll let that sink in.
I was so distraught I nearly drove off the road.
I was so distraught I just said to myself "Well, feck it all. I'm going to Starbucks." And you all know how I feel about Starbucks coffee.
As of yet I have found no confirmation of said merging of Moz and Stink182, but just the idea gives me a shudder. I would much prefer he would endorse a credit card a la the Rolling Stones. I would totally go for the "This Charming Man" account. Can you imagine the jingle?
Okay, so I'm in my car yesterday--it's 100 degrees here in the Old Dominion--my hands melting into the steering wheel, listening to my new Sirius Satellite radio and what does the DJ tell me?
Morrissey is in negotiations to join Blink 182.
I'll let that sink in.
I was so distraught I nearly drove off the road.
I was so distraught I just said to myself "Well, feck it all. I'm going to Starbucks." And you all know how I feel about Starbucks coffee.
As of yet I have found no confirmation of said merging of Moz and Stink182, but just the idea gives me a shudder. I would much prefer he would endorse a credit card a la the Rolling Stones. I would totally go for the "This Charming Man" account. Can you imagine the jingle?
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