Wednesday, October 31, 2007

For Georges

Got this from Sibley and am posting it here specifically for Georges' enjoyment. Click here. So he can keep his dirty monitor clean.

For some reason that link no longer works. But it's not because I posted it wrong. Seriously. It's like, the websites fault, or something. So here is something NEW to make up for the fact that Georges' special post is defunked.

2nd UPDATE: SIBLEY!!!!!!! I CANNOT BELIEVE YOU ARE MOVING!!!!!!!!!!!! Why do you like to make girls cry?

Saturday, October 27, 2007

People Are Gross

I just watched a perfectly normal looking woman, well-dressed and attractive, with a beautiful toddler in a Burberry pram, do The. Grossest. Thing. Ever. They were in the deli and the little toddler, a boy, told his mother that he was hungry. In her lovely English accent she asked him if he'd like a nice big green apple. He clapped his hands enthusiastically. She chose a round, shiny green apple from the apple bin and then said, "But wait, darling, Mummy has to wash the apple first," Then she proceeded to lick her palm and smear her saliva-coated palm all over the apple, then wipe the apple on the seat of her pants. Then she licked her palm again and repeated the whole procedure seven more times. Then she handed the apple to her baby and cheerfully said, "All clean now!" and she watched, smiling, as he took a nice big bite.


Thursday, October 25, 2007

Happy (Almost) Halloween

Do you love re-cut trailors as much as I do?? Well check out these:

This one is my favorite - I'd be way too scared to go see it.

Wednesday, October 24, 2007

Sans Underpants

I recently found out that one of my friends goes to auditions without her underpants.

I don't know about you, but when I think of a girl who doesn't wear underpants, I think of Britney Spears. I mean, come on. A lady doesn't not wear underpants. Right?

That being said, I want you to know that this friend of mine happens to be one of the most lady-like women I've met in a very long time. This girl is highly educated, has an IQ of 160; she's beautiful, poised, classy and demure; she's a gifted artist with a strong work ethic and more integrity in her little finger than most people manage in a lifetime. Seeing as how I have always turned my nose up at the kind of girls who would run around without panties on, when she told me she sometimes doesn't wear them, I responded by gasping and crying out in horror, "WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU??"

"Panty lines." she said, matter-of-factly. "Panty lines and, well, it's very freeing. You should try it some time."

And so I did. One week later. Trust me, I hadn't planned on not wearing underpants that day. It just happened. I was changing in the bathroom at the audition site and I had brought a pair of underpants that claim to not show panty lines but they totally lie because I could definitely see them under my little black dress and not only could I see them, but I could see where they were cutting into my butt and waist and it was not flattering. So I took them off. Just like that - just to try it out. And I couldn't deny that the dress definitely looked better without underpants. I walked out of the bathroom and looked around at the other actors. My heart was racing. Could they tell? Was it obvious? Am I trashy? Are people staring? But no one seemed to notice. No one even looked up at me. So I walked over to an empty seat and put my stuff down and goodness! Sitting became a whole new adventure. As did crossing my legs, standing up, walking. However, I was determined to give this a fair shot. My name was called, I walked into the audition room - Oh God are they staring at me? Can they tell? Are they gonna think horrible things about me? But everything seemed normal. I mean, I was unbelievably self-conscious but I sang really well because I wasn't thinking about singing. It turned out to actually be a pretty great audition.

Last week I tried it again. At my Marilyn Monroe audition. I wore The Dress Called Sin*. And Sin just, well, really the main reason I've never worn Sin is because underpants are so obvious and it always looks like The Dress Called Sin With Bad Panty Lines which is so not sinful. So I wore Sin and I skipped the underpants and it was kind of wonderful. Sin looked utterly sinful, I looked utterly gorgeous and I felt .... free. 

There are lessons to be learned here, kids:

1) Never judge a person by their decision to or not to wear underpants;
2) Underpants don't determine one's level of trashiness;
3) Not wearing underpants is kind of awesome.

(My mother is probably cringing right now. I don't blame her. But to that I say, "You should try it sometime!")

*Sin is this incredible red dress that is so clingy and so sexy and so completely H-O-T that it really, really should have some kind of license requirement. And you just can't, I mean, you really cannot wear anything under it because it is that clingy. It kind of looks like it's been painted on. I don't know what I was thinking when I bought it, which is why I've never worn it, but now that I can wear it without underpants and not feel trashy, well. Watch Out New York. And a special Thank You to my classy, gorgeous, poised, under-pants-free friend who taught me that it's OK to go without.

Tuesday, October 23, 2007

Saturday, October 20, 2007

Happy Monster

I thought it was time to give y'all a little Emotional Update. You'll be glad to know that things are a-changing. I mean, really. We knew that would happen, right? You knew it for sure. I knew it deep down, even though I acted like I didn't. But it's happening. Things are a-changing.

I'm feeling more and more at home in this city. More and more I am feeling like I did the right thing moving here - if anything simply because of the experiences I'm having. I mean, even if I were to give up theatre tomorrow (which, by the way, I would rather stick hot needles in my eyes than give up theatre) this would still have been and continue to be an incredible learning experience. Something changes when you leave your family. When you leave what's comfortable and familiar. I knew that would happen, but I didn't know to what extent. I feel as if I'm getting to know myself better because I have more freedom to be myself because I am not bound to what I think is expected of me. I am not playing the role that has been prescribed to me by the people from my past. Does that make sense? (Georgie, I know you understand this.) I mean, I'm still me. I'm still fucking shy, I'm still afraid of strangers, I'm still nervous and self-conscious. But I'm not as shy or as afraid or as nervous. I'm a little bit tougher, I'm a little more selfish, I think I'm beginning to develope that kind of stereotypical New York Fuck Off attitude. I take a little less shit from people. I stand up for myself a little more. And I'm a little desensitized.

I used to walk past homeless people on the street with wide-eyed wonderment - sometimes with fear, always with pity. Now I walk past them and don't even blink. I used to feel terrible if I walked by a panhandler without giving them money. Now they ask for money and I bite my lip so I don't tell them to go get a job like the rest of us. I walked into a Starbucks yesterday to treat myself to a latte on my way to class (I never go to Starbucks, it's too expensive, so this really was a major treat and I was excited about it and in a huge hurry) and laying on the floor in front of the order counter was a man undergoing life-saving procedures by six EMT's. It was only at that moment that I noticed the ambulance and the fire truck parked in front of the Starbucks with flashing lights. I'd walked right next to them without noticing. And do you know what went through my head as I stood there, in front of this possibly dying person? "Damn it. This is the only Starbucks within 10 blocks!" And then I walked out and went to a deli. I was standing in line at the deli before I realized I hadn't even given a thought to the hurt human being lying on the floor of a Starbucks. Six months ago I would have been reduced to tears. I would have stopped and prayed. Now I'm just irritated that they disturbed my coffee run. That's maybe a little messed up, no?

And yet, in all honesty, I'm kind of relieved. I'm sick of carrying the weight of the pain of the world on my shoulders. That guy was being taken care of, there was nothing I could do about it, move on. Why get upset? In this constantly moving, bustling, whirling, over-whelming city, I've seen so many messed up things. A teenager with his head bashed in and blood running down his back. A young woman ODing on a subway platform, screaming incomprehensibly, fighting off the EMT's. A man bragging to a group of his friends, "Man, she told the cops I raped her! I didn't rape her. The bitch wanted it." I watched a man collapse on the street in the middle of on-coming traffic. But these things are nearly every day occurrences, certainly weekly occurrences, so they barely even touch me. It's like I turned something off - as if there was a little Empathy On/Off switch and I just flipped it off. I'm not proud of this - part of me thinks, "What kind of person have I become?" And part of me is just really relieved.

There are too many people in this city, too many personal tragedies on a daily basis, we are too exposed to one another in every moment. I cannot allow myself to be enveloped anymore. I just don't have the energy. I think that's part of why I was so miserable this summer - I was carrying around every sad thing, every mess, every tiny disaster I came across. Now I don't notice the shit and the stains and the stink and the tears and I'm happy. Maybe that makes me a monster, but at leat I'm a happy monster.

Friday, October 19, 2007

Did I Mention?

That I made my peace with the rain? Ever since the night of the magical thunderstorm.

It's raining today. It warms my heart. I want to curl up on my sofa with Poompy and the hellhound and the fuksticks* and drink spiced tea and eat fresh baked cookies. But alas, I have to earn an income instead.

*Fuksticks are small, fuzzy creatures that sleep on your couch all day long, leave copious amounts of fur wherever they go, urinate on your favorite rugs, and spend their nights meowling and screeching like banshees, while tearing around your apartment as if being chased by demons. Oh, and they are fond of jumping onto high shelves and using their strong, flexible forepaws and tails to knock off and oftentimes break picture frames, candlesticks and other various items you've carefully displayed and artfully arranged on said shelves.

Thursday, October 18, 2007

I miss...

Georgie Peorgie Puddin and Pie
Kissed the girls and made them cry
When the boys came out to play
Georgie Peorgie kicked their asses, spit in their wounds and then humped all the girls' legs!

I miss you, Georges.

p.s. how's my punctuation and grammar?

Monday, October 15, 2007


Poompy set my bathrobe on fire. It's not really his fault, though. I mean, I was the one who hung it next to the stove.

Why would I hang my bathrobe next to the stove, you ask? Well, it's because of the bitchen. You know, the bathroom/kitchen combo. The bitchen. The only place I CAN hang my bathrobe is on the towel bar in between the stove and the toilet. And, well, the belt of my robe was draped over the stove, by accident, and... it caught fire when Poompy tried to boil some water for tea.

Luckily he noticed pretty quickly and managed to put it out before my bathrobe was completely ruined. Just one end of the belt was fried. The rest of it is ok. But I'm certainly not going to hang my bathrobe there again. From now, it will just have to stay in the ballway* next to the bedhole**.

* Bedroom/hallway combo.
**the small space in our apartment designated for sleeping.

Saturday, October 13, 2007

Birds Are Freaking AWESOME

Thanks to John Sibley - who, by the way, is linked to the right under 'For Your Entertainment'. He posts TONS of awesome stuff. We like him. So watch this video. The end is the best part.