"I love you not only for what you are, but for what I am when I am with you. I love you not only for what you have made of yourself, but for what you are making of me. I love you for the part of me that you bring out."
— Pablo Neruda
2008 has brought a veritable blitz on my ass (quoting Lena from the Chicktionary) - as it has for so many people. The latest unemployed count numbers up in the hundreds of thousands, civil unrest breaking out in Greece, India and the Gaza Strip, theft, violence, death all on the rise...and uh, Pen is not having the greatest year. But what is total destruction without the return of the dove and her olive branch? Sometimes the greatest annihilation clears the way so that we can see past all the false walls we've built up. To build a new structure, you can't build on a messed up foundation. You've really got to get down to the core, dig out the old concrete and pour a new one. Otherwise, you're just asking for your building to cave at the first San Andreas fault tremor.
If there's any time to take a spiritual look at life, it would probably be now. Whatever your beliefs, whomever you think leads your life choices. The choice now is not to be Christian or Buddhist, Daoist, Unitarian or to even prescribe to any label at all. But, instead to be, as Wayne Dyer says, Christ-like or Buddha-like. Change can be possible...if we only keep sending out our doves. If we keep looking for a solid place to build with only our faith in the Universe to rely upon. Keep sending out hopes and prayers that the child who will discover the cure for cancer or build a better way of travel isn't shot in Israel. That the person who could assassinate a president, decides to go a different way. And if we don't take care of our friends and family and neighbors NOW...when will we? Can we choose to be the dove?
Selfishly though, my recent thoughts haven't been on anyone dying or the unemployed or world economy or even Barack (even though he's awesome). They've been on the total breakdown of who I thought I was and thought I would accept. In the words of the Dixie Chicks, "I made a promise to myself, locked it away deep inside, told my heart we'd wait it out, swore we'd never compromise. Oh, I'd rather be alone like I am tonight, then settle for the kind of love that fades before the morning light..." Laughing at yourself and the utter disintegration of pre-prescribed standards, that you set, seems to be the only medicine for the comedic routine God calls life. Every stereotype and judgment that I've ever had? Has gone to pot, but only after a limited lifetime of experience. Now it's easy to say that maybe I'll never date again. That dating only leads to heartbreak. But the heartbreak is the thing that tells me I'm human and that I was full and complete in my actions. Being completely thrust into aching and wondering and emptiness is all part of the human experience. And it shows me, I am possibility.
But look at the quote by Neruda. Love changes people, and almost unfailingly, for the better. They expose the bits and parts of you that you never suspected you had. For making me realize this, I thank J. retroactively. As New Age woo-woo as this sounds; I realize, I am the possibility of love and not settling for anything less. And I will keep sending out my doves with only hope to build that dream upon.
ps. my fondest 2008 thanks and happy new year wishes to those out in the bloggyland - Kirk @ mmmyoso, Robyn @ TGWAE, Gala @ galadarling, Min @ cherrypickedwisdom, Tiff @ allthewine, jdawg the webmistress, lena @ chicktionary, jessiera (who reads what I write) and gilda @ queengilda....
and anyone else out there. Happy 2009. Be a dove.
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Sunday, December 28, 2008
How's that working for you?
"You we're born a human being. And not just any human being in the history of human beings, but a human being that gets to be alive today. That gets to listen to all kinds of music, that gets to eat food from every culture, that gets to download porn off the internet. So really, you have everything to live for."
Just bought and watched ‘Charlie Bartlett’ and was NOT totally disappointed., although, it does play a lot like ‘Pump Up the Volume’ Lite. Downey was good, Dennings continues to cement her role as the anti-manic pixie, real, awesome chick and even Yelchin (with the total, ice skating pairs name…oh wait, according to IMDB it IS!) was charming as hell, and I believe also did his own jazz piano work.
Sometimes, I think people could just use a hearty dose of STFU. I mean, really. Having just watched a film all about not giving a crap what other people think about you, I have thought that not caring, is great…in moderation. I walked 4 miles today, down to Golden Gate Park and back and came to the realization that there are a lot of friggin’ people in the world. I mean, a lot. I’m not used to that. I’m not used to seeing a lot of people that I don’t know. It made me very curious about why I didn’t know them. I’m totally serious. Half way through my little excursion, I started to feel really, really lonely. And called a friend to chat. Ironically, we started to go off on the feeling that we have so many people in our lives that it’s hard to catch up with all of them. But I still wanted to be known by all these anonymous people. And here I sit on the interwebs, complaining about my life (or lack thereof, yes I realize) expecting people to sympathize. But the truth is, I’m not doing anything special. I’m writing. I’m not out there, getting to know people.
Look, a lot of the writing I do here is for me. It’s obviously not something I mind sharing with the general public otherwise it wouldn’t be on the interwebs, but for the most part, I’m writing it for me. It’s the quintessential ego stroke. I like that people read it and respond to it, but I’m not writing most of my entries for others. It’s one of the very few outlets where I don’t care what others think, but when I write, I write things based on the karma I want to put out in the world.
“I used to think when I was little, every song was about me.” – Pink
Great art is something that we can all relate to. And the best thing about any art is that artists never create it for anyone else but themselves. Whether you feel connected or not is up to you.
Friday, December 26, 2008
#4
Impeccable mistakes
We've all made
Tell us that we're human
But that stain
That reminds us
Is all too painful, sometimes.
When faced with karma or vengeance,
Would it be so wrong?
To cast a sword
In place of the flowers I'd strew instead?
Let me have my wings
I'll shatter harpies in my path
Keening songs of grasping need
From their fiery cells.
Return their unsolicited victim offering
Not the sweetness of his lips
Not the pleasure of our nights
Not the mind or rapture of love
Ventress, only return their rusted tin can locks
Paper chains and glassy shackles,
Look her in the eyes
So that I can die to live again
We've all made
Tell us that we're human
But that stain
That reminds us
Is all too painful, sometimes.
When faced with karma or vengeance,
Would it be so wrong?
To cast a sword
In place of the flowers I'd strew instead?
Let me have my wings
I'll shatter harpies in my path
Keening songs of grasping need
From their fiery cells.
Return their unsolicited victim offering
Not the sweetness of his lips
Not the pleasure of our nights
Not the mind or rapture of love
Ventress, only return their rusted tin can locks
Paper chains and glassy shackles,
Look her in the eyes
So that I can die to live again
Monday, December 22, 2008
endless doors on either side...
Have been listening to Wayne Dyer’s lectures lately. (They’re free online if you Google him) Mainly, they’re inspirational talks, but they’re also valuable tools for guiding you in how to live life. Reminders in a way. Dyer talks a lot about “source”. Sometimes it’s what we refer to as “spirit”, “higher power” or simply, “god”. It’s what reminds us that we are who we are at our most ultimate shining moment. It’s the perfect ace across the tennis net, hitting that 10th mile of the marathon, singing so purely and clearly that all of your molecules are called into action. It’s no wonder that so many of life’s most transcendental moments: the birth of your first child, climbing Mt. Fuji to see the sunrise etc. involve physical as well as mental stamina.
When we start to have feelings of doubt, fear or suspicion, it all goes back to us not feeling connected to who we truly are and what we are meant to be. Just the other week, I had a conversation with my gorgeous friend, who is my rock and my inspiration. At some point in their lives, every person who considers themselves an artist, goes through a dark place. The place where you don’t know if there is a light out of. The tempting point where things like a 9-5 job, medical benefits, a white picket fence look awfully nice. Anyway, I sat there, listening to my dear friend tell me she was afraid of putting the period on the end of the long journey she’d been working on for a while. And I nearly choked on my orange juice. The end? No way, no how.
See the end, is really the beginning if you choose to look at it that way. See, she made this…and I’m listening to it right now, and it’s incredible. She did something with these songs that is so pure…so hopeful…so her. And if there was ever a time in our history for hope, it would be right now. We could use a leader. Someone who, even if she thinks she can’t see the light right now for her own life, can provide a guiding light for others. And find her own codega. (In the Venetian middle ages a ‘Codega’ was hired to guide you by lantern through the dark Italian streets, warding off assailants”)
It’s true, we all let ourselves fall into the darkness sometimes. And then, at some point, illumination. Sometimes it takes stepping outside of yourself. Reflecting on what you love. The other day, on the way back to the office from a quick jaunt to the bank with my boss, it started to rain on Haight street. I didn’t bring an umbrella, so I started to walk a little quicker. And pretty soon, I was outrunning the rain. Outrunning the rain, think about that for a sec. Of course, there’s no way to do that. But the beat of my boots on slick pavement was jaunty and I started to hum to myself. And I was truly, openly, honestly, happy. I was writing a song in my head! And it’s not Coldplay, but I was having fun. Humming to myself. Feeling that beat turn into a chorus. And the clouds broke, I genuinely smiled at no less than three people on my way back.
The rain has always played an important part in all of my breakups. Well, the not so good ones anyway. Rain’s like an offering, a clean slate as long as I embrace it. The freshness and sweetness is like a balm-rain on me, for I am yours to clean.
Are we aren’t
To be who we wish we could be?
Holding back,
To hold onto what we see
As an answer
To our loneliness - June 2008
When we start to have feelings of doubt, fear or suspicion, it all goes back to us not feeling connected to who we truly are and what we are meant to be. Just the other week, I had a conversation with my gorgeous friend, who is my rock and my inspiration. At some point in their lives, every person who considers themselves an artist, goes through a dark place. The place where you don’t know if there is a light out of. The tempting point where things like a 9-5 job, medical benefits, a white picket fence look awfully nice. Anyway, I sat there, listening to my dear friend tell me she was afraid of putting the period on the end of the long journey she’d been working on for a while. And I nearly choked on my orange juice. The end? No way, no how.
See the end, is really the beginning if you choose to look at it that way. See, she made this…and I’m listening to it right now, and it’s incredible. She did something with these songs that is so pure…so hopeful…so her. And if there was ever a time in our history for hope, it would be right now. We could use a leader. Someone who, even if she thinks she can’t see the light right now for her own life, can provide a guiding light for others. And find her own codega. (In the Venetian middle ages a ‘Codega’ was hired to guide you by lantern through the dark Italian streets, warding off assailants”)It’s true, we all let ourselves fall into the darkness sometimes. And then, at some point, illumination. Sometimes it takes stepping outside of yourself. Reflecting on what you love. The other day, on the way back to the office from a quick jaunt to the bank with my boss, it started to rain on Haight street. I didn’t bring an umbrella, so I started to walk a little quicker. And pretty soon, I was outrunning the rain. Outrunning the rain, think about that for a sec. Of course, there’s no way to do that. But the beat of my boots on slick pavement was jaunty and I started to hum to myself. And I was truly, openly, honestly, happy. I was writing a song in my head! And it’s not Coldplay, but I was having fun. Humming to myself. Feeling that beat turn into a chorus. And the clouds broke, I genuinely smiled at no less than three people on my way back.
The rain has always played an important part in all of my breakups. Well, the not so good ones anyway. Rain’s like an offering, a clean slate as long as I embrace it. The freshness and sweetness is like a balm-rain on me, for I am yours to clean.
Are we aren’t
To be who we wish we could be?
Holding back,
To hold onto what we see
As an answer
To our loneliness - June 2008
Saturday, December 20, 2008
C is the Comeliest Letter!
When you are wont to surf the web as I am, you’ll come upon interesting things. AllTheWine is a blogger, that I believe I either found through GalaDarling or OnceMoreWithFeeling! She has a neat meme on her site this week all to do with your favorite things – but specifically the ones that start with a particular letter.
The rules: You leave a comment on this post, and I’ll assign you a letter. You write about ten things you love that begin with your assigned letter, and post it at your place. When people comment on your list, you give them a letter, and the chain continues on and on.
My letter is C!
1) Well first of all, C is for COOKIE and that’s good enough for me.
Cookies are the delicious prodigal child of cakes. Basically, when home bakers in the olden days wanted to test their batter they would bake a small portion to see what it tasted like. The popularity of these small cakes, like cell phone charms and purse Chihuahuas, grew and grew until people just started baking them outright. As a kid, my mom used to call cookies, “fish food” – I have no idea why, but she did. We LOVED it when she made fish food. There is nothing more satisfying than a cookie, for me. First of all, you don’t need a plate or a fork, secondly, you can put pretty much anything you want in a cookie. I’ve had zucchini cookies, coffee cookies and cookies with bacon in them. You can eat just one or a lot. When I’m having a bad day or PMSing, I’ll go grab a cookie. Cookiemonster is also my favorite muppet, I used to have slippers when I was a little kid that were blue, fuzzy and had a plastic Cookie Monster head on each toe.
2) Cumin, cinnamon, cilantro, curry – spices are sexy, no? I love cooking and adding unusual spices to dishes to enhance flavors. Cumin to turkey, cinnamon to just about everything, cilantro to bring brightness and curry to add heat.
3) Cha Cha Chas – One of my favorite Spanish/Cuban inspired tapas restaurants in the city. They make spectacular sangria, amazing platanos maduros and patatas bravas. The décor is a fun mix of Catholic inspired, glitter decked shrines and live plants. And it’s one of the few places that I would consider hip enough to bring a date, a bunch of girlfriends and also comfy enough to bring family. I ate lunch here with a friend on Friday. Lookee!
4) Christmas! – tis the season y’all. And for the first time in a long time, I’ve been watching the evolution of this particular holiday and in this particular year, it’s not about mounds of material gifts. It really is about sticking together, family, loved ones and giving thanks for the season. Nice.
5) Colbert – who doesn’t love them some Colbert? Have you watched the Holiday Special yet? You must.
6) Cons…short for convention as in Comi-Con, Wonder-Con, Dragon-Con, Leaky-Con. There is something magical about watching a ton of sweaty, geeky, passionate people band together to have a weekend that is just about the things that they love. It’s so neat to see the innovation, creativity and sometimes social change come about from these en mass gatherings.
7) Coeur D’Coeurs: ok, Pushing Daisies has been cancelled to my chagrin, but this fairy tale of a television show is probably the best thing on television. Smart, well set and well acted, it has a pop sensibility that appeals to both kids and adults. And the stories, while adult oriented, contain a childlike style that is perfect family fare.
8) Cary Elwes: Uh…Wesley? Princess Bride. He was the perfect man-snarky and skilled enough to satisfy the macho requirement, but oh-so pretty and charming to be the real prince of this story.
9) Coelho: I first read ‘The Alchemist’ when I was 22 after hearing about it on the blog of Lori (Real World: Back to New York…yeah, sue me) Trespicio, and I was sucked into the book. It’s not only an incredible fairy tale about following your dreams and listening to omens but also a guide to learning how to see the world. A week after finishing it, I ran into a good friend of mine who was also reading it. I only hope that I keep searching and finding my teachers; the old king, the shop owner and the alchemist. And I hope against hope for my Fatimah. ‘I Sat Down By the River Piedra’ is also amazing. And Coelho’s blog is thoughtful, meditative daily read.
It is also symbolic that Santiago finds his soul-mate, and the secrets of wisdom in the wilderness of the desert… In the desert, Santiago meets his "twin-soul" and discovers that love is the core of existence and creation. As Coelho explains, when we love, we always try to improve ourselves, and that's when everything is possible. The subject of love inspires a beautiful lyricism in Coelho's writing: " I love you because the whole universe conspired for me to come close to you."
The Personal Legend is one's reason for living; essentially, one's goal in life. Everyone in the world has a Personal Legend; by reaching his/hers, he/she adds to the Soul of the World, or its purity.
10) Celine Dion is Awesome – the first time I watched this video (made by the fucktawesome Rich of FourFour), I had to watch it 8 more times. And then again when I got home, and again the next day. HI-larious. And then I had to send it to 24 of my friends. This video is one of the best YouTube videos ever made.
11) Common sense: it’s so interesting that some people have this in spades and others were born with the common sense of a pineapple.
The rules: You leave a comment on this post, and I’ll assign you a letter. You write about ten things you love that begin with your assigned letter, and post it at your place. When people comment on your list, you give them a letter, and the chain continues on and on.
My letter is C!
1) Well first of all, C is for COOKIE and that’s good enough for me.
Cookies are the delicious prodigal child of cakes. Basically, when home bakers in the olden days wanted to test their batter they would bake a small portion to see what it tasted like. The popularity of these small cakes, like cell phone charms and purse Chihuahuas, grew and grew until people just started baking them outright. As a kid, my mom used to call cookies, “fish food” – I have no idea why, but she did. We LOVED it when she made fish food. There is nothing more satisfying than a cookie, for me. First of all, you don’t need a plate or a fork, secondly, you can put pretty much anything you want in a cookie. I’ve had zucchini cookies, coffee cookies and cookies with bacon in them. You can eat just one or a lot. When I’m having a bad day or PMSing, I’ll go grab a cookie. Cookiemonster is also my favorite muppet, I used to have slippers when I was a little kid that were blue, fuzzy and had a plastic Cookie Monster head on each toe.
2) Cumin, cinnamon, cilantro, curry – spices are sexy, no? I love cooking and adding unusual spices to dishes to enhance flavors. Cumin to turkey, cinnamon to just about everything, cilantro to bring brightness and curry to add heat.
3) Cha Cha Chas – One of my favorite Spanish/Cuban inspired tapas restaurants in the city. They make spectacular sangria, amazing platanos maduros and patatas bravas. The décor is a fun mix of Catholic inspired, glitter decked shrines and live plants. And it’s one of the few places that I would consider hip enough to bring a date, a bunch of girlfriends and also comfy enough to bring family. I ate lunch here with a friend on Friday. Lookee!4) Christmas! – tis the season y’all. And for the first time in a long time, I’ve been watching the evolution of this particular holiday and in this particular year, it’s not about mounds of material gifts. It really is about sticking together, family, loved ones and giving thanks for the season. Nice.
5) Colbert – who doesn’t love them some Colbert? Have you watched the Holiday Special yet? You must.
6) Cons…short for convention as in Comi-Con, Wonder-Con, Dragon-Con, Leaky-Con. There is something magical about watching a ton of sweaty, geeky, passionate people band together to have a weekend that is just about the things that they love. It’s so neat to see the innovation, creativity and sometimes social change come about from these en mass gatherings.
7) Coeur D’Coeurs: ok, Pushing Daisies has been cancelled to my chagrin, but this fairy tale of a television show is probably the best thing on television. Smart, well set and well acted, it has a pop sensibility that appeals to both kids and adults. And the stories, while adult oriented, contain a childlike style that is perfect family fare.
8) Cary Elwes: Uh…Wesley? Princess Bride. He was the perfect man-snarky and skilled enough to satisfy the macho requirement, but oh-so pretty and charming to be the real prince of this story.9) Coelho: I first read ‘The Alchemist’ when I was 22 after hearing about it on the blog of Lori (Real World: Back to New York…yeah, sue me) Trespicio, and I was sucked into the book. It’s not only an incredible fairy tale about following your dreams and listening to omens but also a guide to learning how to see the world. A week after finishing it, I ran into a good friend of mine who was also reading it. I only hope that I keep searching and finding my teachers; the old king, the shop owner and the alchemist. And I hope against hope for my Fatimah. ‘I Sat Down By the River Piedra’ is also amazing. And Coelho’s blog is thoughtful, meditative daily read.
It is also symbolic that Santiago finds his soul-mate, and the secrets of wisdom in the wilderness of the desert… In the desert, Santiago meets his "twin-soul" and discovers that love is the core of existence and creation. As Coelho explains, when we love, we always try to improve ourselves, and that's when everything is possible. The subject of love inspires a beautiful lyricism in Coelho's writing: " I love you because the whole universe conspired for me to come close to you."
The Personal Legend is one's reason for living; essentially, one's goal in life. Everyone in the world has a Personal Legend; by reaching his/hers, he/she adds to the Soul of the World, or its purity.
10) Celine Dion is Awesome – the first time I watched this video (made by the fucktawesome Rich of FourFour), I had to watch it 8 more times. And then again when I got home, and again the next day. HI-larious. And then I had to send it to 24 of my friends. This video is one of the best YouTube videos ever made.
11) Common sense: it’s so interesting that some people have this in spades and others were born with the common sense of a pineapple.
Thursday, December 18, 2008
And I bet you are just fine...
A Fine Frenzy
"Almost Lover"
-One Cell in the Sea (2007)
Goodbye, my almost lover
Goodbye, my hopeless dream
I'm trying not to think about you
Can't you just let me be?
So long, my luckless romance
My back is turned on you
Should've known you'd bring me heartache
Almost lovers always do
We walked along a crowded street
You took my hand and danced with me
Images
And when you left, you kissed my lips
You told me you would never, never forget
These images
No
Well, I'd never want to see you unhappy
I thought you'd want the same for me
[Chorus]
Goodbye, my almost lover
Goodbye, my hopeless dream
I'm trying not to think about you
Can't you just let me be?
So long, my luckless romance
My back is turned on you
Should've known you'd bring me heartache
Almost lovers always do
I cannot go to the ocean
I cannot drive the streets at night
I cannot wake up in the morning
Without you on my mind
So you're gone and I'm haunted
And I bet you are just fine
Did I make it that
Easy to walk right in and out
Of my life?
[Chorus]
Goodbye, my almost lover
Goodbye, my hopeless dream
I'm trying not to think about you
Can't you just let me be?So long, my luckless romance
My back is turned on you
Should have known you'd bring me heartache
Almost lovers always do
***************************
Well huh...this explains part of it: l'Homme Fatale
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
22 days
You were mine to make a mystery.
The one sure faith eluding me.
And now you're gone.
22 days and I still feel you.
But those ghosts are quickly fading.
As you move on.
Sunday, December 14, 2008
beyond
"You two are rocking my world at this moment." - cast member on Saturday.
I had forgotten how much I love to watch other people sing. How much it fulfills the part that yearns for creation, understanding, art. Bearing witness to music, real music makes me grateful to be alive. The smiles on the faces of the rest of our cast members and our hardass musical director when La Fleur and I finished our duet on Saturday were priceless. Knowing that other people think you kick ass and that you are now, at least a partial master of a skillset you have spent years honing is so gratifying. Duets are such beautiful vibrant creatures; the insouciance of solos gives way to the necessary give and take and connection of singing with others.
There is something so much greater than ourselves, the ley lines that connect us to Earth and Sky. And we are the fortunate souls that get to live in between.
Wandering lately, listless. Too much television, too much lethargy. Because I believed myself to have lost something. The truth was, that I only had to return to the rhythm and music to find what was always there. Believing that something is lost and then finding it again, by connecting soul to spirit - just a reminder that looking beyond ourselves is essential to living in this world fully.
I had forgotten how much I love to watch other people sing. How much it fulfills the part that yearns for creation, understanding, art. Bearing witness to music, real music makes me grateful to be alive. The smiles on the faces of the rest of our cast members and our hardass musical director when La Fleur and I finished our duet on Saturday were priceless. Knowing that other people think you kick ass and that you are now, at least a partial master of a skillset you have spent years honing is so gratifying. Duets are such beautiful vibrant creatures; the insouciance of solos gives way to the necessary give and take and connection of singing with others.
There is something so much greater than ourselves, the ley lines that connect us to Earth and Sky. And we are the fortunate souls that get to live in between.
Wandering lately, listless. Too much television, too much lethargy. Because I believed myself to have lost something. The truth was, that I only had to return to the rhythm and music to find what was always there. Believing that something is lost and then finding it again, by connecting soul to spirit - just a reminder that looking beyond ourselves is essential to living in this world fully.
Friday, December 12, 2008
bittersweet.
Well...THAT didn't take very long.
A different kind of therapy.
RRAWWWWRRRR! Take that. Oh, NOT SAFE FOR WORK! Lots and lots of cussing!
*******************************************************************************
This next story might gross you guys out a little bit. For the last week, I have watched a caterpillar dying on my bathroom floor. Yeah, I know. I have nothing to defend myself, it was a total act of animal cruelty...or indifference. First of all, I have no idea how the caterpillar got into my bathroom, I figured it hitched a ride on my dad's pants or something. Or that he just wandered in there by himself. So I figured he would know how to get out. And every day, I thought I would just wake up and in the middle of the night, the caterpillar would have just figured out how to wiggle his way out of the grout and outside somehow. Not so, every single day, I've watched the caterpillar waste away. And then I just started waiting for him to...pass. But every time that darn squishy worm got wet from my shower, he seemed to reanimate. Initially, he just started becoming a little nuisance, something that I had to avoid while stepping out in my myopic state. Finally, this morning, I gave the little dude a casual funeral.
I dunno what made me not want to save this little thing's life. I think it's the depression seething out after setting in. But I hurt, I hurt at my core. I hurt so much in just this moment that my teeth ache. It didn't take very long for HER to place herself squarely back in his life. To reclaim her shallow grade victory, even to falsely claim the one, bittersweet entry that was mine. I let you go, because in my own way, I care about you. Releasing you gently, kindly, the most mature way I know how. Release you back into your self made iron cage of guilt, shame, manipulation, jealousy and obsession masquerading as love and friendship. She's made you believe that she will be the only one. I KNOW that it is a sorely won battle that will not triumph in the war. Sadly...that is what you choose now.
Laddie: "Wanna see me use a semicolon?"
Pen: "Oh yeah, ahah."
Laddie: "BAM!"
A different kind of therapy.
RRAWWWWRRRR! Take that. Oh, NOT SAFE FOR WORK! Lots and lots of cussing!
*******************************************************************************
This next story might gross you guys out a little bit. For the last week, I have watched a caterpillar dying on my bathroom floor. Yeah, I know. I have nothing to defend myself, it was a total act of animal cruelty...or indifference. First of all, I have no idea how the caterpillar got into my bathroom, I figured it hitched a ride on my dad's pants or something. Or that he just wandered in there by himself. So I figured he would know how to get out. And every day, I thought I would just wake up and in the middle of the night, the caterpillar would have just figured out how to wiggle his way out of the grout and outside somehow. Not so, every single day, I've watched the caterpillar waste away. And then I just started waiting for him to...pass. But every time that darn squishy worm got wet from my shower, he seemed to reanimate. Initially, he just started becoming a little nuisance, something that I had to avoid while stepping out in my myopic state. Finally, this morning, I gave the little dude a casual funeral.
I dunno what made me not want to save this little thing's life. I think it's the depression seething out after setting in. But I hurt, I hurt at my core. I hurt so much in just this moment that my teeth ache. It didn't take very long for HER to place herself squarely back in his life. To reclaim her shallow grade victory, even to falsely claim the one, bittersweet entry that was mine. I let you go, because in my own way, I care about you. Releasing you gently, kindly, the most mature way I know how. Release you back into your self made iron cage of guilt, shame, manipulation, jealousy and obsession masquerading as love and friendship. She's made you believe that she will be the only one. I KNOW that it is a sorely won battle that will not triumph in the war. Sadly...that is what you choose now.
Laddie: "Wanna see me use a semicolon?"
Pen: "Oh yeah, ahah."
Laddie: "BAM!"
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Furry orange therapy
Trying to distract yourself is like trying to not watch a car accident when you drive by. You try and try, and you KNOW you know better than to watch. Rubbernecking just causes traffic jams and frustration, you might see something absolutely horrifying or you might just get into an accident yourself. And you remind yourself all of these things as you slow down and drive by.
Golden eyes fixated on my outstretched hand and our intial meeting ended in nothing more than your typical kitty cat brush off. But on our second encounter, in front of a stack of music books ('natch), Lord Kitty decided he would rather jump a seat on my squatted lap. At first, it was a gentle head butt, then a full on purr-fest. Cuddling this cat, made me feel better. I know that it's ludicrous to believe that animals can sense your feelings, but somehow knowing that something, somewhere still wanted to snuggle up to me (and my down stuffed coat) made me feel ok. It's been hard knowing where to turn or what to do lately. Do I want or need to hold a hand that isn't 100% invested in that moment? Pets on the other hand, are fully in the moment of being held and loved and aren't interested in being anywhere else but there. Skeptics will say that of course kitty wanted to be held and petted and loved, but I stick to the belief that in his own cat way, he was offering me up a type of comfort too.
ps. have been thinking of going tandem skydiving lately. If you want to go, let me know.
But you still look. It's hard not to.
Have been doing a lot of things lately that allot weird free time and therefore make healthy distractions harder. You know, it's when you schedule an appointment or a meeting or a reading and there's not enough time for you to go home, but there's just a little too much time to kill. It's what your typical book/magazine/DVD/cafe superstore is for (the Borders people? Genuises), or in my case Church street. Within the same 75 ft. radius there's clothes/accessories, several restaurants, two salons and a bookstore. Bookstores always bring back childhood memories; my parents were, and still are, fond of hitting up bookstores on a Friday or Saturday night after dinner. There's something about a good used bookstore that promotes wandering and before you know it, you've blown 20 minutes reading about how to make a stereo out of pinecones or listening to new music. You don't buy anything you don't have to and you can still learn something new or pleasurable.
Yesterday, with a chunk of time and the chill air, quickly nipped into Aardvark's Used Books before my reading. The smell of fraying pages and glossy covers, comforting. Behind the homemade counter - an elderly Koreander type, scrutinized each attendee before returning to his own tome. And I soon was lost in the ceiling scraping shelves, packed with words and stories and pictures. But cruising down one of the aisles, I was confronted by another resident lordly sentinel.
For the frequent readers of the bloggityog, you probably know why I'm trying to keep myself distracted. And honestly, nothing said distraction more than a 10lb. bundle of orange colored tabby love plopped squarely between me and travel.
For the frequent readers of the bloggityog, you probably know why I'm trying to keep myself distracted. And honestly, nothing said distraction more than a 10lb. bundle of orange colored tabby love plopped squarely between me and travel.
Golden eyes fixated on my outstretched hand and our intial meeting ended in nothing more than your typical kitty cat brush off. But on our second encounter, in front of a stack of music books ('natch), Lord Kitty decided he would rather jump a seat on my squatted lap. At first, it was a gentle head butt, then a full on purr-fest. Cuddling this cat, made me feel better. I know that it's ludicrous to believe that animals can sense your feelings, but somehow knowing that something, somewhere still wanted to snuggle up to me (and my down stuffed coat) made me feel ok. It's been hard knowing where to turn or what to do lately. Do I want or need to hold a hand that isn't 100% invested in that moment? Pets on the other hand, are fully in the moment of being held and loved and aren't interested in being anywhere else but there. Skeptics will say that of course kitty wanted to be held and petted and loved, but I stick to the belief that in his own cat way, he was offering me up a type of comfort too. After a while of gentle head scratching, my thighs started to ache. Levering my new buddy off his haunches onto the floor with a gentle, "That's enough baby," I realized that there's been a proverbial change in me. Even when I make the rules, someone will still want to snuggle. Good to know.
ps. have been thinking of going tandem skydiving lately. If you want to go, let me know.
Friday, December 5, 2008
respond.
You're right. I won't.
But don't get bitter because I did what was right for me.
You wanted happiness.
So do I.
But don't get bitter because I did what was right for me.
You wanted happiness.
So do I.
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
i used to be cool
I heard this song while driving to rehearsal last night and liked it so much that I actually dug out a pen to scribble it down. It's Ludovico Einaudi's 'Due Tramonti' which translates to 'Two Sunsets'. Gorgeous.
Wow...below is my Frienster profile from like 2003. Whack.
I'm not cool. I am nowhere near cool. Many people have let me know that they don't think I'm cool. I may never BE cool. But I'm ok with that. And, I'm wearing pants. I miss Comedy Central (damn you Comcast)and the Muppet Show. I make endless to do lists and then proceed to not do anything on them. I do not have a deviated septum. I like to sleep in but rarely do. I remember names and faces from fifteen years past, but can't recall any mathematical theorem worth crap. I am very hard to please. Things I have first panned then later relished with pleasure: capri pants, skiing and frappucinos. I enjoy complex sentence structure, but cannot be bothered to string it together. I can often think up things like; my favorite book, movie, tv show on my own, but I draw blanks on all if prompted to do so. I LOVE to think up names for my fictional band. My favorite song to perform is, "Son of a Preacher Man." I can type about 80 wds per min, but not quietly. I enjoy buffing my fingernails religously. I think I have hobbit feet. I do not work in a cube; it's more like an open sided octagon. I am the only person I know that saw Matrix Reloaded and liked it better than the first Matrix. I kill houseplants, so don't ask me to watch yours. I am on a very long road to finding happiness but am being held back by fear, resignation and the obstacle of having a family that's crunchy liberal on the outside, secretly straight as an assrod conservative Asian on the inside. I like giving up my seat for old ladies on the bus. If you tell me what to do, there is a 50% chance I won't do it, just based on the fact that I hate people telling me what to do. I am trying very hard to impress you...
If I had to describe myself using only adjectives; eclectic, hyper-sensitive, do-gooder, sometimes shallow, on time, contradictory but ultimately nice.
My other profile is: "I'm weird."
word. (to your mother)
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
chitown city.
Rawbean, Buckethead...this one's for you. (via Rob Huebel of Human Giant)
How a Chi-town playah does it for the ladeez.
How a Chi-town playah does it for the ladeez.
*sourcecode
"Rely on the source whose capabilities are equal to the requirements of your program"
Rules:
* Grab the book closest to you. Now.
* Go to page 56.
* Find the 5th sentence.
* Write that sentence as your status.
* Copy these instructions as a comment to your status.
* Don't go looking for your favorite book, or the coolest one you have -- just grab the closest one.
Repost and try people! Mine is from a design book ('natch), called The Big Book of Color-in-Design that I got when MissQueeter was an editor at Harpers, but I think it's actually rather appropriate and Zen when you think about it.
I also posted a review of Bar Tartine over at Yelp...if you're really THAT bored. :)
Rules:
* Grab the book closest to you. Now.
* Go to page 56.
* Find the 5th sentence.
* Write that sentence as your status.
* Copy these instructions as a comment to your status.
* Don't go looking for your favorite book, or the coolest one you have -- just grab the closest one.
Repost and try people! Mine is from a design book ('natch), called The Big Book of Color-in-Design that I got when MissQueeter was an editor at Harpers, but I think it's actually rather appropriate and Zen when you think about it.
I also posted a review of Bar Tartine over at Yelp...if you're really THAT bored. :)
Monday, December 1, 2008
Prime directive yo.
I fucking love geeks. (via Pajiba)
The funniest word I have heard today? Tofucken, the vegetarian equivalent of Turducken. There are also some crazy ass directions to make tofucken, like: 9. Bake about 20 minutes or until you burn your fingers when you stick them into the Tofucken. Tofucken can also be used as a verb.
Q: Did you bang that hot vegan chick last night?
A: Oh yeah, there was a lot of tofucken going on.
(no tempeh was harmed in the making of the tofucken)
The funniest word I have heard today? Tofucken, the vegetarian equivalent of Turducken. There are also some crazy ass directions to make tofucken, like: 9. Bake about 20 minutes or until you burn your fingers when you stick them into the Tofucken. Tofucken can also be used as a verb.
Q: Did you bang that hot vegan chick last night?
A: Oh yeah, there was a lot of tofucken going on.
(no tempeh was harmed in the making of the tofucken)
Saturday, November 29, 2008
Change the rules.
I walk a mile with a smile. I don't know I don't care where I am, But I know it's all right. Jump the tracks, can't get back. I don't know anyone round here, But I'm safe this time. 'Cause when you tell me, tell me, tell me Stupid things like you do, Yes I have to, have to, have to Change the rules; I can't lose. 'Cause I shiver, I just break up. When I'm near you it all gets out of hand. Yes I shiver, I get bent up. There's no way that I know you'll understand. We talk and talk, round it all. Who'd have thought we'd end up here? But I'm feeling fine. In a rush never trust, you'll be there If I'd only stop and take my time. 'Cause with you I'm running, running, running Somewhere I can't get to. Yes I have to, have to, have to Change the rules; I'm with you. 'Cause I shiver, I just break up. When I'm near you it all gets out of hand. Yes I shiver, I get bent up. There's no way that I know you'll understand. What if you get off at the next stop? Would you just wave as I'm drifting off? And if I never saw you again Could I (could I) keep all (all) of this (of this) inside? 'Cause I shiver, I just break up. When I'm near you it all gets out of hand. Yes I shiver, I get bent up. There's no way that I know you'll understand. (I'm running but my heart won't keep up. This feeling that I'm feeling is too much. There's nothing that can slow me down now. I'm running but I'll catch you somehow.) I shiver. I shiver. Yes I shiver, I just break up. When I'm near you it all gets out of hand. Yes I shiver, I get bent up. There's no way that I know you'll understand.
-Shiver , Natalie Imbruglia
Unlikely adoration?
Today's Quote:
If someone says:
"That's impossible."
You should understand it as:
"According to my very limited experience and narrow understanding of reality, that's very unlikely."
via Unicornology
*****************************************************************
This holiday holds some new experiences for me. In the last 8 years of my exodus from college, I've never felt like I needed to hold back from showing the people around me, materially, that they matter. I've held elaborate dinner parties, stood in line at electronic stores and purchased over the-top items...all in the name of L-O-V-E.
It's not about showing off or status, at least I didn't think it was, but it was more about giving back to people that I truly cared about. The people that showed me over and over again that I was loved and thought about. But do we really need to keep doing that? Does a show of immaterial adoration count for nothing? I watched a special on 20/20 last night about American couples who adopt older children from impoverished nations and the painful process of disruption - which is literally, after going through extensive adoption procedures and an extended home stay, the parents giving up their children either to the state or to special programs. A major reason in a lot of these cases is because the children suffer from behavior problems.
Most of the story focused on three adoptive children from a family in Tampa who were all "older" adoptions. And get this, the parents got older kids because they didn't want to deal with late night feedings or changing diapers. Originally from Russia, all three ended up being sent to a special camp where things like chores, structure and discipline were emphasized after becoming problem kids at home. Things like: waking up at 7am, weeding the yard, cooking, athletic activity were juxtaposed with horseback riding, swimming and eating together. And yet, in this environment, so different from their plush and decadent lifestyle in Tampa, the kids thrived. And the most important statement to come out of the whole thing? 16 year old Margarita who said, "[Elena] is a spoiled brat. Whenever they want to praise us, they take us shopping."
Wow, talk about a wake-up call. The parents seemed to think that they were welcoming the kids into a kind of Disneyland magic that would so compensate for their adoptees horrible childhood that it would wipe out bad memories completely. So intent on showering them with American riches, they forgot the fundamental and basic steps of parenting. Kids need love, understanding and structure. I got more and more upset while watching, thinking these two clueless people were unfit parents. That at 16 years old, Margarita had a better grasp at what makes a true family. But that wouldn't be fair either.
New parents have to learn as much as children do, that they are not perfect. And materialism can never replace spending time with someone. Children are not pets to be pampered and preened as show dogs. They are people who have their own individual personalities and thoughts. At the end of the day, it's not about a new dress or bag or food - it's about a hug and a reassurance that it's all going to be alright.
I say this right before accompanying my mother to her mecca for the year; the Annual SF Sample Sale. As each year has passed, I've been less and less inspired to go. Receiving an email today from a friend that stated: "Have fun at the sample sale, you always do." hit a dissonant chord. I'm not made of money, I'm smart with what I spend and have cut back on pretty much everything. And yet, all my friends think I do is shop. I don't know if this is a commentary on needing to change my life or their misconceptions. And it's disheartening that your friends put you into a little box because you know what designer is doing what. Just because I know that Sigerson Morrison designed the new shoe line at Target, doesn't mean that I own a pair of their $300 flats. These days, when I walk out of a store having purchased nothing because images of my closet swim in front of my eyes, I pat myself on the back. I may peruse online sites, but that's because it's eye candy. An easy way to see what is popular without actually purchasing anything. And yet, still, I am "Penny the Shopper."
This year, my brother wants me to take him and his friend to the airport for Christmas. My parents, being born in the Year of the Rat, will want either nothing or something fairly over the top (ie. tickets to Teatro Zinzanni). My little cousins are caught up in Jonas Bros everything, except for the one emo cousin who could probably use some Soundgarden. Immaterial adoration, is it possible? Sounds like plain old love to me.
From Russia with Love: Dealing with Difficult Adoptions
If someone says:
"That's impossible."
You should understand it as:
"According to my very limited experience and narrow understanding of reality, that's very unlikely."
via Unicornology
*****************************************************************
This holiday holds some new experiences for me. In the last 8 years of my exodus from college, I've never felt like I needed to hold back from showing the people around me, materially, that they matter. I've held elaborate dinner parties, stood in line at electronic stores and purchased over the-top items...all in the name of L-O-V-E.
It's not about showing off or status, at least I didn't think it was, but it was more about giving back to people that I truly cared about. The people that showed me over and over again that I was loved and thought about. But do we really need to keep doing that? Does a show of immaterial adoration count for nothing? I watched a special on 20/20 last night about American couples who adopt older children from impoverished nations and the painful process of disruption - which is literally, after going through extensive adoption procedures and an extended home stay, the parents giving up their children either to the state or to special programs. A major reason in a lot of these cases is because the children suffer from behavior problems.
Most of the story focused on three adoptive children from a family in Tampa who were all "older" adoptions. And get this, the parents got older kids because they didn't want to deal with late night feedings or changing diapers. Originally from Russia, all three ended up being sent to a special camp where things like chores, structure and discipline were emphasized after becoming problem kids at home. Things like: waking up at 7am, weeding the yard, cooking, athletic activity were juxtaposed with horseback riding, swimming and eating together. And yet, in this environment, so different from their plush and decadent lifestyle in Tampa, the kids thrived. And the most important statement to come out of the whole thing? 16 year old Margarita who said, "[Elena] is a spoiled brat. Whenever they want to praise us, they take us shopping."
Wow, talk about a wake-up call. The parents seemed to think that they were welcoming the kids into a kind of Disneyland magic that would so compensate for their adoptees horrible childhood that it would wipe out bad memories completely. So intent on showering them with American riches, they forgot the fundamental and basic steps of parenting. Kids need love, understanding and structure. I got more and more upset while watching, thinking these two clueless people were unfit parents. That at 16 years old, Margarita had a better grasp at what makes a true family. But that wouldn't be fair either.
New parents have to learn as much as children do, that they are not perfect. And materialism can never replace spending time with someone. Children are not pets to be pampered and preened as show dogs. They are people who have their own individual personalities and thoughts. At the end of the day, it's not about a new dress or bag or food - it's about a hug and a reassurance that it's all going to be alright.
I say this right before accompanying my mother to her mecca for the year; the Annual SF Sample Sale. As each year has passed, I've been less and less inspired to go. Receiving an email today from a friend that stated: "Have fun at the sample sale, you always do." hit a dissonant chord. I'm not made of money, I'm smart with what I spend and have cut back on pretty much everything. And yet, all my friends think I do is shop. I don't know if this is a commentary on needing to change my life or their misconceptions. And it's disheartening that your friends put you into a little box because you know what designer is doing what. Just because I know that Sigerson Morrison designed the new shoe line at Target, doesn't mean that I own a pair of their $300 flats. These days, when I walk out of a store having purchased nothing because images of my closet swim in front of my eyes, I pat myself on the back. I may peruse online sites, but that's because it's eye candy. An easy way to see what is popular without actually purchasing anything. And yet, still, I am "Penny the Shopper."
This year, my brother wants me to take him and his friend to the airport for Christmas. My parents, being born in the Year of the Rat, will want either nothing or something fairly over the top (ie. tickets to Teatro Zinzanni). My little cousins are caught up in Jonas Bros everything, except for the one emo cousin who could probably use some Soundgarden. Immaterial adoration, is it possible? Sounds like plain old love to me.
From Russia with Love: Dealing with Difficult Adoptions
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Livin' with what I got.
Whoa...ok enough with the aggro Pen.
Tomorrow is Thanksgiving, traditionally a holiday where we are remember what we're grateful for. When our bodies ease into family, food and comfort. And in these days of uncertainty, it is enough to have those people around us that we trust and that love us. Never mind the amount of love; it's just enough to have it. And I'm also grateful to have been able to give back (2 storebought dinners at church). To have the ability and the impulse to give is quite honestly, something that I wish I could empower everyone with.
This holiday, I am grateful to have the ability to love and to (for)give.
Have a wonderful holiday season!
And noww....Federico Fellini on the importance of women as counterparts:
We don't really know who woman is. She remains in that precise place within man where darkness begins. Talking about women means talking about the darkest part of ourselves, the undeveloped part, the true mystery within. In the beginning, I believe man was complete and androgynous-both male and female, or neither, like angels. Then came the division, and Eve was taken from him. So the problem for man is to reunite himself with the other half of his being, to find the woman who is right for him-right be she is simply a projection, a mirror of himself. A man can't become whole or free until he has set woman free-his woman. It's his responsibility, not hers. He can't be complete, truly alive until he makes her his sexual companion, and not a slave of libidinous acts or a saint with a halo.
Tomorrow is Thanksgiving, traditionally a holiday where we are remember what we're grateful for. When our bodies ease into family, food and comfort. And in these days of uncertainty, it is enough to have those people around us that we trust and that love us. Never mind the amount of love; it's just enough to have it. And I'm also grateful to have been able to give back (2 storebought dinners at church). To have the ability and the impulse to give is quite honestly, something that I wish I could empower everyone with.This holiday, I am grateful to have the ability to love and to (for)give.
Have a wonderful holiday season!
And noww....Federico Fellini on the importance of women as counterparts:
We don't really know who woman is. She remains in that precise place within man where darkness begins. Talking about women means talking about the darkest part of ourselves, the undeveloped part, the true mystery within. In the beginning, I believe man was complete and androgynous-both male and female, or neither, like angels. Then came the division, and Eve was taken from him. So the problem for man is to reunite himself with the other half of his being, to find the woman who is right for him-right be she is simply a projection, a mirror of himself. A man can't become whole or free until he has set woman free-his woman. It's his responsibility, not hers. He can't be complete, truly alive until he makes her his sexual companion, and not a slave of libidinous acts or a saint with a halo.
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
It may be a liquid burger, but eggnog is love.
The most fun sentence to come out of my rant yesterday?
And your quasi-intellectual, self-indulgent declarations of "life" and pompous self-discovery are like the whisperings of a spoiled emo 15 year old xanga blogger. Fuck you.
A sure cure for angry break-up depression?
Hot ass John Legend. Noggin' some egg.
via unicornology — (via littlemiss) (via crazybeautiful) (via bon-bon)
And your quasi-intellectual, self-indulgent declarations of "life" and pompous self-discovery are like the whisperings of a spoiled emo 15 year old xanga blogger. Fuck you.
A sure cure for angry break-up depression?
Hot ass John Legend. Noggin' some egg.
Every time I think about you, I have to remind myself that if you wanted
to talk to me, you would.
via unicornology — (via littlemiss) (via crazybeautiful) (via bon-bon)
Monday, November 24, 2008
with strings attached.
I might not blog for awhile, but I didn't want you guys to be concerned. Who knows, I may blog tomorrow, but you know...just in case.
I just saw this book at Barnes and Noble, it seemed to sum up everything that was wrong with the boy I was seeing. I am currently in the anger phase of recovery and don't feel like quite sharing with the rest of the world.
But he got the boot. For my own mental health. For my own happiness. Cause I give a crap about ME. And I am made of awesome.
Friday, November 21, 2008
Exorcising demons that weren't mine to bear.
The world belongs to those who stand out, stand up and stand for or against a cause which they can strongly defend, those who can talk crowd and keep their virtues or walk with kings and not lose the common touch – their identity. An independent mind is a frontier of change in the world. -Tayo Korede
(via Nubbytwiglet's entry on Personal Branding and Blogging)
Today, sitting here, making the hard decisions. I've been getting down on myself lately for not showing more...iniative. Even though the phlegm has been hitting hard and heavy, Rocky ended and I stepped directly into another show. Jerrsika reminded me of all of this yesterday, and justified a break today. So I've been sitting watching CSI: NY for the last three hours or so. I'm soon to bound downstairs to clean my desk.
A change is gonna come. Soon. If I decide it. I'll be living in my present and not his past.
Here's how NOT to make rice pudding:
a) do not use uncooked arborio rice. There are about 1-1/2 gallons of liquid needed, and the rice will release it's starch. Instead, use the leftover cooked rice already in the rice cooker.
b) do not use coconut milk even though you're trying to use it up. First of all, at a very high temperature, the milk will start to release its oils and it will also add a slightly chalky flavor that's not appropriate for rice pudding
c) do not add pureed fruit. It will make it taste even stranger. Esp. do not use raspberries that have seeds.
Dammit...what do I do with this pot of crap now?
(via Nubbytwiglet's entry on Personal Branding and Blogging)
Today, sitting here, making the hard decisions. I've been getting down on myself lately for not showing more...iniative. Even though the phlegm has been hitting hard and heavy, Rocky ended and I stepped directly into another show. Jerrsika reminded me of all of this yesterday, and justified a break today. So I've been sitting watching CSI: NY for the last three hours or so. I'm soon to bound downstairs to clean my desk.
A change is gonna come. Soon. If I decide it. I'll be living in my present and not his past.
Here's how NOT to make rice pudding:
a) do not use uncooked arborio rice. There are about 1-1/2 gallons of liquid needed, and the rice will release it's starch. Instead, use the leftover cooked rice already in the rice cooker.
b) do not use coconut milk even though you're trying to use it up. First of all, at a very high temperature, the milk will start to release its oils and it will also add a slightly chalky flavor that's not appropriate for rice pudding
c) do not add pureed fruit. It will make it taste even stranger. Esp. do not use raspberries that have seeds.
Dammit...what do I do with this pot of crap now?
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Wind of banners.
Things to Love Thursday.
Pablo Neruda Poems - ever since trying to watch Il Postino twice when I was younger, in the vain hopes that it would make me more cultured or more cool as it were. I think it was my favorite idea of a "sensual" adult movie that I could watch with my then boyfriend.
All it did was give me a lifelong love of Italy. And Pablo Neruda, on a beach, explaining love to a hunky but clueless ragazzo.
If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
remember
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.
But
if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine. ...
"If You Forget Me" by Pablo Neruda
And today's, 'Blogs of Note': Happy Mundane
It's not the first time I've just randomly clicked on a BON link, and yet again, I have been conveniently pleased.
It brings up a question though. Are we naturally a suspicious species? Do we tend to distrust anything that has any whiff of coporate stamp of appeal - or something that we heard of via a mainstream source? I remember when "Single Ladies" was the fucking bomb esp. when my cast members were doing their own versions in the back alley on Capp. But now that everyone and their mother is "putting a ring on it" as it were on YouTube, does it make the video any less cool? No, just more popular.
Pablo Neruda Poems - ever since trying to watch Il Postino twice when I was younger, in the vain hopes that it would make me more cultured or more cool as it were. I think it was my favorite idea of a "sensual" adult movie that I could watch with my then boyfriend.
All it did was give me a lifelong love of Italy. And Pablo Neruda, on a beach, explaining love to a hunky but clueless ragazzo.
If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
remember
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.
But
if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine. ...
"If You Forget Me" by Pablo Neruda
And today's, 'Blogs of Note': Happy Mundane
It's not the first time I've just randomly clicked on a BON link, and yet again, I have been conveniently pleased.
It brings up a question though. Are we naturally a suspicious species? Do we tend to distrust anything that has any whiff of coporate stamp of appeal - or something that we heard of via a mainstream source? I remember when "Single Ladies" was the fucking bomb esp. when my cast members were doing their own versions in the back alley on Capp. But now that everyone and their mother is "putting a ring on it" as it were on YouTube, does it make the video any less cool? No, just more popular.
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
tearing apart.
Even though I long to stay
the more the cracks start to grow
till the day we're shattered
and can't be
Monday, November 17, 2008
She's so lucky, she's a star...
We all have those moments when we realize how lucky we actually are.
In life, Allen Klein (Jollytologist) says that we can all handle stress and conflict with humor. And that we should ask for more standing ovations. Try this the next time you're stressed out. Ask for applause. "I burned dinner." or "I forgot the dry cleaning." Get a real, totally enthusiastic, standing O from your friend or partner. Or give one. You'll feel goofy, they'll feel goofy, and more often than not, it'll put a grin on your face. We celebrate with one another. He tried this with a bunch of people in the congregation, until Klein had made the point, "Quite often in life, we don't get celebrated for who we are. I mean, how many of you got a standing ovation last night?"
And quite literally, in my head, I went, "I GOT TWO!"
See, it was closing night of Rocky. With a fuller than full house. At the 8pm show, we opened the balcony. At the 11 o'clock show, out of 491 seats, 485 seats were sold. And it was wild and raucous.
Remember, there are things in our life that make us luckier than lucky. Celebrate them.
In life, Allen Klein (Jollytologist) says that we can all handle stress and conflict with humor. And that we should ask for more standing ovations. Try this the next time you're stressed out. Ask for applause. "I burned dinner." or "I forgot the dry cleaning." Get a real, totally enthusiastic, standing O from your friend or partner. Or give one. You'll feel goofy, they'll feel goofy, and more often than not, it'll put a grin on your face. We celebrate with one another. He tried this with a bunch of people in the congregation, until Klein had made the point, "Quite often in life, we don't get celebrated for who we are. I mean, how many of you got a standing ovation last night?"
And quite literally, in my head, I went, "I GOT TWO!"
See, it was closing night of Rocky. With a fuller than full house. At the 8pm show, we opened the balcony. At the 11 o'clock show, out of 491 seats, 485 seats were sold. And it was wild and raucous.
Remember, there are things in our life that make us luckier than lucky. Celebrate them.
Saturday, November 15, 2008
Weekend update.
Had dim sum with Kat yesterday. It's actually sort of fun having the same days off as your best friend because it means you get to tool around together. We went to the GIANT BOK CHOY restaurant.
I don't know what it's actually named, but I've deemed it the GIANT BOK CHOY restaurant for the enormous porcelain model it has right in the front door way. It's on Clement if you're interested and weekday dim sum is $1.95 a plate. We had 10 plates (yeah, we're pigs, sue us) and the total bill was $23. W00t!
Asians have such a weird fascination with the overly large or ridiculously small replicas of things. Extremes at both ends of the spectrum.
So today is the closing night of Rocky and I close it with some sadness, but also breathing a of relief. This is one of the mostsigh challenging yet fun shows I've done yet. The cast has been such a wonderful mix of non-judgemental, talented, loving, funny, diverse people. They're open minded and smart. Liberal and funny. And a whole lot of sassy. But I'm tired from the energy needed to do this show, and starting to get sick, missing my friends and I start 'Nine' on Sunday. So maybe that's the reprieve for cast loss fallout, to get into something else right away.
Still, I couldn't have wished for a better experience. Our director flew up from L.A. last night to see one of our last performances and it was awesome. For those of you that saw it, thank you! For those of you who wished they could have seen it, better luck next time. I for one, loved this experience. Incredible.
I don't know what it's actually named, but I've deemed it the GIANT BOK CHOY restaurant for the enormous porcelain model it has right in the front door way. It's on Clement if you're interested and weekday dim sum is $1.95 a plate. We had 10 plates (yeah, we're pigs, sue us) and the total bill was $23. W00t!Asians have such a weird fascination with the overly large or ridiculously small replicas of things. Extremes at both ends of the spectrum.
So today is the closing night of Rocky and I close it with some sadness, but also breathing a of relief. This is one of the mostsigh challenging yet fun shows I've done yet. The cast has been such a wonderful mix of non-judgemental, talented, loving, funny, diverse people. They're open minded and smart. Liberal and funny. And a whole lot of sassy. But I'm tired from the energy needed to do this show, and starting to get sick, missing my friends and I start 'Nine' on Sunday. So maybe that's the reprieve for cast loss fallout, to get into something else right away.Still, I couldn't have wished for a better experience. Our director flew up from L.A. last night to see one of our last performances and it was awesome. For those of you that saw it, thank you! For those of you who wished they could have seen it, better luck next time. I for one, loved this experience. Incredible.
Thursday, November 13, 2008
thursday love
Things I Love Thursday – inspired by GalaDarling
sweet potato biscuits! My dad whipped up a batch on his day off from the Google cookbook and they’re delish. I ate the last one this morning with breakfast and it was still great.
This entry from It’s Like I’m ..Mmmagic - 7 year olds weigh in on Obama!
“Which promoted Matthew to reply with my favorite line of the day: “So people must be trusting Ohmamma to be a good President even if he has no white skin because he’s going to still be good. Because skin is like glasses but just you can’t take your skin off.”
My absolutely gorgeous, talented, funny, caring Rocky Horror Cast. It’s such a friggin’ cliché: but we are such a diverse and interesting group of people and only in this millennium and in San Francisco could this show have happened. We had a real loving gay wedding during Halloween and are currently holding up ‘No on 8’ signs during the ‘Make You A Man’ reprise.
Stephen Schwartz and Liz Calloway. Brilliant artists.
Read this article on the Perfect Day by Dan Haugh from Gomestic
the Meantime Girl: a role we all fall comfortably into sometimes. It’s aight, the Meantime Boy is also available.
Oh my god….if this wasn’t on ABC News, I might be all WHATEVER. But yes, make sure your partner gets tested for HPV. Cancer from blow jobs?
But speaking of, spending time with your loved ones after a dry spell is wonderful. Thai food. Kissing. Holding hands. No bad dreams last night, just sweet relaxing sleep.
These shoes from ModCloth – impeccably impractical. And gorgeous.
Of course they are called the Prima Donna shoes. If I like them, they also have to be ludicrously named.
sweet potato biscuits! My dad whipped up a batch on his day off from the Google cookbook and they’re delish. I ate the last one this morning with breakfast and it was still great.
This entry from It’s Like I’m ..Mmmagic - 7 year olds weigh in on Obama!
“Which promoted Matthew to reply with my favorite line of the day: “So people must be trusting Ohmamma to be a good President even if he has no white skin because he’s going to still be good. Because skin is like glasses but just you can’t take your skin off.”
My absolutely gorgeous, talented, funny, caring Rocky Horror Cast. It’s such a friggin’ cliché: but we are such a diverse and interesting group of people and only in this millennium and in San Francisco could this show have happened. We had a real loving gay wedding during Halloween and are currently holding up ‘No on 8’ signs during the ‘Make You A Man’ reprise.Stephen Schwartz and Liz Calloway. Brilliant artists.
Read this article on the Perfect Day by Dan Haugh from Gomestic
the Meantime Girl: a role we all fall comfortably into sometimes. It’s aight, the Meantime Boy is also available.
Oh my god….if this wasn’t on ABC News, I might be all WHATEVER. But yes, make sure your partner gets tested for HPV. Cancer from blow jobs?
But speaking of, spending time with your loved ones after a dry spell is wonderful. Thai food. Kissing. Holding hands. No bad dreams last night, just sweet relaxing sleep.
These shoes from ModCloth – impeccably impractical. And gorgeous.
Of course they are called the Prima Donna shoes. If I like them, they also have to be ludicrously named.
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
I'm pretty sure it's not about my father or mother...
Had a dream last night that woke me up out of a dead sleep with my heart a racin'. Basically, I was at the Wells Fargo ATM in the Mission - near the Victoria - and I was trying to make copies of some 11x17 architectural drawings. Basically, you inserted the drawing into the slot in the ATM machine, the machine would scan it and spit out some more copies. So I was there, just trying to make copies, when all of a sudden I was approached, on the left, by a homeless dude wearing no socks and a hat. (oh and a raggedy lookin' suit) Now, note: not attacked, not harrassed, APPROACHED. But I KNEW that he was asking me for money because I was at the ATM machine, even though all I was doing was copying drawings. I woke up totally freaked out and scared.
Jungians...you wanna tell me what this means?
Jungians...you wanna tell me what this means?
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Fobby Dearest.
At age 29, I get the biggest kick out of making my dad laugh by reading him posts off this online:
MyMomIsAFob
For some reason, he is not such a fan of MyDadIsAFob...maybe because Fobby Mommies are just better? I dunno why, 'cause this video rocks.
Dad plays Wii Boxing for the first time - and KICKS ASS!
MyMomIsAFob
KFC Worker: Welcome to KFC, can I take your order?
Mom: Yes please, can I have one bucket of chicken?
KFC Worker: Sure! White or dark meat ma’am?
Mom: Duck!? I don’t want duck! I want chicken!
For some reason, he is not such a fan of MyDadIsAFob...maybe because Fobby Mommies are just better? I dunno why, 'cause this video rocks.
Dad plays Wii Boxing for the first time - and KICKS ASS!
Survey Says
1. You can press a button that will make any one person explode. Who would you blow up?
Cheney. Or anyone made of chocolate - cause...FONDUE!
2. You can flip a switch that will wipe any band or musical artist out of existence. Who will it be?
William Hung - who barely qualifies, but yeah, that guy.
3. Who would you really like to just punch in the face?
I often have dreams about punching assorted family members in the face for their insensitive commentary.
4. What is your favorite cheese?
I cannot chose only one!!! That's nearly impossible! But I have to say, my go to cheese at the supermarket is dill havarti. It makes all sandwiches better.
5. You can only have one kind of sandwich. Every sandwich ingredient known to humankind is at your immediate disposal. What kind of sandwich will you eat?
Whoa. That means everything edible known to mankind is at my fingertips. Right now, I'm feelin' a soy/honey/chili glazed piece of sea bass on a crusty roll with cabbage slaw and mayo.
6. You have the opportunity to sleep with the movie celebrity of your choice. We are talking no-strings-attached sex and it can only happen once. Who is the lucky celebrity of your choice?
Angelina Jolie. Two for the price of one. Or Jimmy Smits. Or Daniel Radcliff. Or Prince William.
7. You have the opportunity to sleep with the music celebrity of your choice, who will it be?
Marc Broussard. Or the drummer for the Wallflowers. All LVs are whores...so this is difficult.
8. Now that you've slept with two people in a row, you seem to be having an excellent day because you just came across a hundred-dollar bill on the sidewalk. What do you buy?
Dinner at Nopa. Or a hand immersion blender.
9. You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere. You have to depart right now. Where are you gonna go?
Bali.
10. An angel appears out of heaven and offers you a lifetime supply of the beverage of your choice. It is?
Arnold Palmer's for life. With mango iced tea.
11. Rufus appears out of nowhere with a time-traveling phone booth. You can go anywhere in the PAST. Where do you go?
I want to see my parents as kids. I think that would be priceless.
12. You discover a beautiful island upon which you may build your own society. You make the rules. What is the first rule you put into place?
Oh jeezus, I am no good at being a leader. Seriously, I'm too indecisive. Maybe, sustainable living or once we get over a certain # of people, the a-holes have to leave. Some sort of over population rule.
13. You have been given the opportunity to create the half-hour TV show of your own design. What is it?
Shop Your Closet. Actually Todd Oldham used to do something akin to this in the early 90s, where he would go into people's houses and take items they already owned and put them together into new and interesting outfits. But I want to take the time to remind people that they have enough and it's just about thinking about what you have in new and exciting ways.
14. What is your favorite curse word?
Goddamit.
15. One night you wake up because you heard a noise. You turn on the light to find that you are surrounded by MUMMIES. The mummies aren't really doing anything, what do you do?
Ahhhh!! Mummies?! That's fucking scary as fuck. Ummm...I guess, try to shoo them out of the house. Maybe keep one for good measure.
16. Your house is on fire! What do you do?
Get out. Call the Fire Dept. Find the hose.
17. The Angel of Death has descended upon you. Fortunately, the Angel of Death is pretty cool and in a good mood, and it offers you a half-hour to do whatever you want before you bite it. Whatcha gonna do in that half-hour?
Call the a-holes in my life and let them have it. Maybe smoke some pot.
18. You accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and whats even cooler is that they endow you with the super-power of your choice! What super-power is it?
W00t! Radioactive veggies! It's almost always flying. Can I have witch powers?! Witchpower!
19. You can re-live any point of time in your life. The time-span can only be a half-hour, though. What half-hour of your past would you like to experience again?
Whoa...sort of a big deal and a secret.
20. You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be?
"Looking back, nothing is as horrible as it seems at the time. Perspective is just around the corner of every untimely event. You just have to wait for it to make the turn." - I agree with Gates. Oh wait, there was this one time in Chinese School where I accidentally fucked up some person's wedding. I'd redo that moment.
21. You got kicked out of the country for being a time-traveling heathen who sleeps with celebrities and has super-powers. But check this out you can move anywhere. Where are you going?
London baby! (Cause this means I can't live in the States right?)
22. This question still counts, even for those of you who are under age, if you were banned from every bar in the world except one, which one would it be?
Leanne Borghesi's house
23. Hopefully you didn't mention this in the super-powers question... If you did, then we'll just expound on that. Check it out… Suddenly, you have gained the ability to fly! Whose house are you going to fly to first, and be like "Check it out I can FLY!?"
I think it depends on how fast I can fly. Possibly Wen's house, cause she'd get a kick out of it. Or J.'s place, but as I haven't really met his parents yet, a flying girlfriend would be weird. Straight to George Lucas' house, cause I'm sure there will be a part in a Star Wars movie for me. ha.
24. The constant absorption of magical moon beams mixed with the radioactive vegetables you consumed earlier has given you the ability to resurrect the dead famous person of your choice. So which celebrity will you bring back to life?
I dunno, most people who are dead want to stay dead. Richard Harris, because I like his Dumbledore better than Gambon's.
Cheney. Or anyone made of chocolate - cause...FONDUE!
2. You can flip a switch that will wipe any band or musical artist out of existence. Who will it be?
William Hung - who barely qualifies, but yeah, that guy.
3. Who would you really like to just punch in the face?
I often have dreams about punching assorted family members in the face for their insensitive commentary.
4. What is your favorite cheese?
I cannot chose only one!!! That's nearly impossible! But I have to say, my go to cheese at the supermarket is dill havarti. It makes all sandwiches better.
5. You can only have one kind of sandwich. Every sandwich ingredient known to humankind is at your immediate disposal. What kind of sandwich will you eat?
Whoa. That means everything edible known to mankind is at my fingertips. Right now, I'm feelin' a soy/honey/chili glazed piece of sea bass on a crusty roll with cabbage slaw and mayo.
6. You have the opportunity to sleep with the movie celebrity of your choice. We are talking no-strings-attached sex and it can only happen once. Who is the lucky celebrity of your choice?
Angelina Jolie. Two for the price of one. Or Jimmy Smits. Or Daniel Radcliff. Or Prince William.
7. You have the opportunity to sleep with the music celebrity of your choice, who will it be?
Marc Broussard. Or the drummer for the Wallflowers. All LVs are whores...so this is difficult.
8. Now that you've slept with two people in a row, you seem to be having an excellent day because you just came across a hundred-dollar bill on the sidewalk. What do you buy?
Dinner at Nopa. Or a hand immersion blender.
9. You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere. You have to depart right now. Where are you gonna go?
Bali.
10. An angel appears out of heaven and offers you a lifetime supply of the beverage of your choice. It is?
Arnold Palmer's for life. With mango iced tea.
11. Rufus appears out of nowhere with a time-traveling phone booth. You can go anywhere in the PAST. Where do you go?
I want to see my parents as kids. I think that would be priceless.
12. You discover a beautiful island upon which you may build your own society. You make the rules. What is the first rule you put into place?
Oh jeezus, I am no good at being a leader. Seriously, I'm too indecisive. Maybe, sustainable living or once we get over a certain # of people, the a-holes have to leave. Some sort of over population rule.
13. You have been given the opportunity to create the half-hour TV show of your own design. What is it?
Shop Your Closet. Actually Todd Oldham used to do something akin to this in the early 90s, where he would go into people's houses and take items they already owned and put them together into new and interesting outfits. But I want to take the time to remind people that they have enough and it's just about thinking about what you have in new and exciting ways.
14. What is your favorite curse word?
Goddamit.
15. One night you wake up because you heard a noise. You turn on the light to find that you are surrounded by MUMMIES. The mummies aren't really doing anything, what do you do?
Ahhhh!! Mummies?! That's fucking scary as fuck. Ummm...I guess, try to shoo them out of the house. Maybe keep one for good measure.
16. Your house is on fire! What do you do?
Get out. Call the Fire Dept. Find the hose.
17. The Angel of Death has descended upon you. Fortunately, the Angel of Death is pretty cool and in a good mood, and it offers you a half-hour to do whatever you want before you bite it. Whatcha gonna do in that half-hour?
Call the a-holes in my life and let them have it. Maybe smoke some pot.
18. You accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and whats even cooler is that they endow you with the super-power of your choice! What super-power is it?
W00t! Radioactive veggies! It's almost always flying. Can I have witch powers?! Witchpower!
19. You can re-live any point of time in your life. The time-span can only be a half-hour, though. What half-hour of your past would you like to experience again?
Whoa...sort of a big deal and a secret.
20. You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be?
"Looking back, nothing is as horrible as it seems at the time. Perspective is just around the corner of every untimely event. You just have to wait for it to make the turn." - I agree with Gates. Oh wait, there was this one time in Chinese School where I accidentally fucked up some person's wedding. I'd redo that moment.
21. You got kicked out of the country for being a time-traveling heathen who sleeps with celebrities and has super-powers. But check this out you can move anywhere. Where are you going?
London baby! (Cause this means I can't live in the States right?)
22. This question still counts, even for those of you who are under age, if you were banned from every bar in the world except one, which one would it be?
Leanne Borghesi's house
23. Hopefully you didn't mention this in the super-powers question... If you did, then we'll just expound on that. Check it out… Suddenly, you have gained the ability to fly! Whose house are you going to fly to first, and be like "Check it out I can FLY!?"
I think it depends on how fast I can fly. Possibly Wen's house, cause she'd get a kick out of it. Or J.'s place, but as I haven't really met his parents yet, a flying girlfriend would be weird. Straight to George Lucas' house, cause I'm sure there will be a part in a Star Wars movie for me. ha.
24. The constant absorption of magical moon beams mixed with the radioactive vegetables you consumed earlier has given you the ability to resurrect the dead famous person of your choice. So which celebrity will you bring back to life?
I dunno, most people who are dead want to stay dead. Richard Harris, because I like his Dumbledore better than Gambon's.
Monday, November 10, 2008
Kicking more ass?
For once, I like my horoscope. From psychic dream astrology in the SF Guardian (unlike Brezny, who seems to hate Taurii)
Taurus:
Taurus, you've been kicking ass and taking names. But that can get tiresome and lonely. you may need to acknowledge the asses of the masses that have been harmed in the making of this movie. Say a little prayer, shed a tiny tear, and then keep on rolling.
and for Jerrsika - who nearly fooled me into thinking Liz Calloway reads my blog. Silly goose.
Aquarius:
Kindess is king (or queen, if you're using a feminist deck). The more open, living and positive you can be with your fluttery heart, the better. You don't need to be a Pollyanna, but a touch of "fake it till you make it" wouldn't kill you. Sink the energy you wish to receive into all you touch this week.
Taurus:
Taurus, you've been kicking ass and taking names. But that can get tiresome and lonely. you may need to acknowledge the asses of the masses that have been harmed in the making of this movie. Say a little prayer, shed a tiny tear, and then keep on rolling.
and for Jerrsika - who nearly fooled me into thinking Liz Calloway reads my blog. Silly goose.
Aquarius:
Kindess is king (or queen, if you're using a feminist deck). The more open, living and positive you can be with your fluttery heart, the better. You don't need to be a Pollyanna, but a touch of "fake it till you make it" wouldn't kill you. Sink the energy you wish to receive into all you touch this week.
*sekaseka
Irritating: having learnt past tenses in English grammar class the following, when they show up in web articles that were supposedly edited, frustrate me to no end.
v. trans : (to) light = lit NOT lighted
******************************************************************************
AMAZING! J. marched in the huge SF, 'No on 8 Protest' on Friday night. Possibly to provide a large 'fuck you' to his uptight Catholic upbringing. Partially inspired by the commitment to full human rights for everyone. Possibly in order to party like a rock star. Whatever, he did it and I'm so proud of him. *muah* baby!
v. trans : (to) light = lit NOT lighted
v. trans: (to) dive = dove NOT dived
v. trans: (to) leap = leapt NOT leaped
I understand that I may be the only person in this camp, but it's still annoying to me.
I understand that I may be the only person in this camp, but it's still annoying to me.
******************************************************************************
Reasons I love SF: We rename our streets as often as we change political parties (some lovely individuals did this to Bush street the other day)
AMAZING! J. marched in the huge SF, 'No on 8 Protest' on Friday night. Possibly to provide a large 'fuck you' to his uptight Catholic upbringing. Partially inspired by the commitment to full human rights for everyone. Possibly in order to party like a rock star. Whatever, he did it and I'm so proud of him. *muah* baby! (both photos via SFist)
*sekaseka: to laugh without reason (in Bemba, language of Zambia)
Sunday, November 9, 2008
I'll be there someday, if I can be strong.
WARNING: MUSICAL THEATER DORK ENTRY.
Heroes are particular to every person.
Maybe that sounds like a no-brainer, but if you look at it realistically, one person's hero is another person's mortal enemy. Think about the person whose hero is Nelson Mandela versus Scarface. To me, a hero lives by a personal code. One that he or she has developed and refined over years, the person who is still willing to learn and question. But one who knows how to be decisive and chose quickly. Heroes make YOU think, change the way you look at life. Inspire you to be and act differently. And a lot of times, you're lucky as hell to meet one of your heroes. (Cause a lot of the time, they're dead or imaginary. I mean, Gene Kelly is a hero of mine.)
Well peeps, I got lucky.
My parents have been getting a Season Membership to Broadway by the Bay ever since I started doing more theater.** And this year, BBBay featured a concert by the composer and lyricist of Wicked, Stephen Schwartz.
**I don't know if it's some sort of odd way of supporting my habit or trying to understand it. I'd like to think it's a version of one of those. Although, it makes me cringe a little when they come home from one of the shows going, "Oh, your (insert name of friend here) was soo good!" Especially since I've never done a show at BBBay. It's an Asian parent thing.
Wicked is one of those rare Broadway phenoms of being absolutely %100 commercially successful. One of the few musicals that has become part of the mainstream, by, ironically focusing on the story of a heroine who is so notably NOT mainstream. And is also a beautifully rendered story; funny, sweet, life-changing and has one of the most powerful orchestrations ever. It's a doozy of a vocal workout, but has so many alchemical seminal songs - ones that demand your full artistic commitment - that when you have it, you HAVE it.
This music has changed my life.
It was the first musical that asked me for more that I thought was humanly or physically possible for myself. And it was the first musical that I HAD to do. Where I did not care about the time or dedication it would take to fully absorb all the music - I had to have it. Hours of going over the musical motifs, vowel modifications and acting choices. The only music that I go through constantly, trying to refine and the only songs that I never ever tire of singing. That give me chills whenever I hear the opening chords.
In other words, the music that made me a singer.
Stephen Schwartz gets criticized by some people in the musical conservatory community for being way to prophetic about a few of his choices. He's written such religious themed musicals such as: Children of Eden, Godspell, the LSD crapfest known as Pippin (sorry, I am SO not a fan of Pippin), the lovely but slightly ambivalent morality tale, The Baker's Wife, The Magic Show and finally, Wicked. I will not go into my love for Wicked, because that would be about 40 pages long, but the music, the musical and the story is GENIUS.
The theme of the concert yesterday, also starring: the INCREDIBLE Liz Calloway, Scott Coulter and (Tony award winning) Debbie Gravitte, was finding the new in the old. So accordingly, all of the songs were Schwartz's heavy hitters.
To me, the greatest find of the night was Scott Coulter. A sweet gorgeous tenor with a timbre pure, clear controlled top - Scott's phrasing and musicality (he also played piano at one point) seemed odd to me at first, but won me over by the end of the show. His voice paired lovingly with Calloway in a Children of Eden/Wicked medley. And during all the group members. Self-effacing and gentle, he easily stepped into making fun of himself for playing Pocahontas as he did knocking the socks off the audience. Singing the difficult love song from Enchanted, 'So Close', Coulter handled himself with aplomb. He's a nationally winning Cabaret star and justly so.
Calloway is a legend in her own right. Starting with the musical Baby and continuing to work with New York up and comers to this day (Scott Alan), her voice is as sweet and crystalline as ever, whether used on duets or singing the Chenoweth inspired yodel of 'Popular'. But it's her rendition of, 'Meadowlark' which, admittedly, Schwartz likes the best out of all the divas who have ever sung it - that blows everything else away. As the composer himself admits, the reason so many female singers are drawn to it, is that 'Meadowlark' is so many things rolled into one: full character arc, tons of acting pivot points to play, vocal pyrotechnics - it is a good test of a singer and pianist as well (it's the way I test my accompanists) since the accompaniment is a bitch to play.
Gravitte was introduced as the Tony Award winning actor, and she gave a winning version of the waitress song from Working. A true, New York broad-she also sang with Schwatz on a duet and in person was absolutely lovely. She was also given Schwartz's current anthem, "Defying Gravity" to sing and told a great story about her 11 year old and menopause. With her flowing red locks and impressive stage presence, she's perfect for a Mama Rose or Mrs. Lovett - roles I hope she gets to play soon.
And of course, there was the man himself, Stephen Schwartz. He opened the show with a beautiful rendition of, "Beautiful City" from Godspell and interspersed the show with duets and in a sweet surprise, 'Forgiveness' Embrace.' (a song I often sing for church service) He also gave a short workshop on the evolution of 'the Wizard and I' - and even in this, listening to his inflections, I found where he wanted emphasis and he definitely puts a breath before the last "good" in Wizard and I. Schwartz's voice is obviously not as refined as his stage counterparts, but he has a soul and it's true and slightly Country with a yodel when he switches to falsetto. One of Schwartz's greatest gifts is to be the Obama of musical theater. He is constantly writing about and emphasizing humanity's ability to be great, to find spirituality and faith in god. Often he does this by contrasting it with the more subversive parts of humanity, but with an understanding that it is all the same thing and it is within all of us to choose. Choose the path we take, and we can take the high road.
To close out, and here, even Schwartz sheepishly admitted he knew he was going to do an encore, he sang his version of 'For Good'. What's most important to Schwartz in this song? The "handprint on my heart" line - he sang it slightly sweeter and with a lovely smile. Inspired by his teenage daughter, this song evokes the musical's actual theme more than any of the others. It fully realizes that we will never be in the places that our lives are in today without knowing all the people we know along they way-good or bad. And what seems bad can turn out to be good. Then, all three singers came back out for a gospel stirring rendition of, "Someday" - a song that was eventually cut from 'The Hunchback of Notre Dame'. Versions by Laurie Beechman can be found on YouTube.
Of course we were given the opportunity to do a quick meet and greet with the artists - for the low low price (I'm being sarcastic) of $20 a cd. Which did a pretty brisk business. One of the coolest moments of my life will be going up to Liz Calloway and asking her to sign my cd, telling her I admire her work with Scott Alan and her Swan Princess (hey, I was 14 - gimme a break) And having her look at me and go, "You're a singer, aren't you?" And then getting to meet Shwartz himself. He was visibly and vocally upset about California's recent decision on Prop 8, quoting Melissa Etheridge's bold threat to not pay her state taxes. I didn't know what to say. I feel for all of my friends and family members who are gay and I certainly voted No on Prop 8 - but I wanted to tell this man that he changed my life and he was so upset. Then I remembered, this is what he's about. The good fight, doing what's right, the justice for others and being so concerned and heartbroken about it, that a signing session was not front in his mind. But I asked to shake his hand, and he broke out of his reverie and did it, with a firm hold and a gentle smile.
At the end of the day, that's what the world needs.
Heroes are particular to every person.
Maybe that sounds like a no-brainer, but if you look at it realistically, one person's hero is another person's mortal enemy. Think about the person whose hero is Nelson Mandela versus Scarface. To me, a hero lives by a personal code. One that he or she has developed and refined over years, the person who is still willing to learn and question. But one who knows how to be decisive and chose quickly. Heroes make YOU think, change the way you look at life. Inspire you to be and act differently. And a lot of times, you're lucky as hell to meet one of your heroes. (Cause a lot of the time, they're dead or imaginary. I mean, Gene Kelly is a hero of mine.)
Well peeps, I got lucky. My parents have been getting a Season Membership to Broadway by the Bay ever since I started doing more theater.** And this year, BBBay featured a concert by the composer and lyricist of Wicked, Stephen Schwartz.
**I don't know if it's some sort of odd way of supporting my habit or trying to understand it. I'd like to think it's a version of one of those. Although, it makes me cringe a little when they come home from one of the shows going, "Oh, your (insert name of friend here) was soo good!" Especially since I've never done a show at BBBay. It's an Asian parent thing.
Wicked is one of those rare Broadway phenoms of being absolutely %100 commercially successful. One of the few musicals that has become part of the mainstream, by, ironically focusing on the story of a heroine who is so notably NOT mainstream. And is also a beautifully rendered story; funny, sweet, life-changing and has one of the most powerful orchestrations ever. It's a doozy of a vocal workout, but has so many alchemical seminal songs - ones that demand your full artistic commitment - that when you have it, you HAVE it.
This music has changed my life.
It was the first musical that asked me for more that I thought was humanly or physically possible for myself. And it was the first musical that I HAD to do. Where I did not care about the time or dedication it would take to fully absorb all the music - I had to have it. Hours of going over the musical motifs, vowel modifications and acting choices. The only music that I go through constantly, trying to refine and the only songs that I never ever tire of singing. That give me chills whenever I hear the opening chords.
In other words, the music that made me a singer.
Stephen Schwartz gets criticized by some people in the musical conservatory community for being way to prophetic about a few of his choices. He's written such religious themed musicals such as: Children of Eden, Godspell, the LSD crapfest known as Pippin (sorry, I am SO not a fan of Pippin), the lovely but slightly ambivalent morality tale, The Baker's Wife, The Magic Show and finally, Wicked. I will not go into my love for Wicked, because that would be about 40 pages long, but the music, the musical and the story is GENIUS.
The theme of the concert yesterday, also starring: the INCREDIBLE Liz Calloway, Scott Coulter and (Tony award winning) Debbie Gravitte, was finding the new in the old. So accordingly, all of the songs were Schwartz's heavy hitters.
To me, the greatest find of the night was Scott Coulter. A sweet gorgeous tenor with a timbre pure, clear controlled top - Scott's phrasing and musicality (he also played piano at one point) seemed odd to me at first, but won me over by the end of the show. His voice paired lovingly with Calloway in a Children of Eden/Wicked medley. And during all the group members. Self-effacing and gentle, he easily stepped into making fun of himself for playing Pocahontas as he did knocking the socks off the audience. Singing the difficult love song from Enchanted, 'So Close', Coulter handled himself with aplomb. He's a nationally winning Cabaret star and justly so.
Calloway is a legend in her own right. Starting with the musical Baby and continuing to work with New York up and comers to this day (Scott Alan), her voice is as sweet and crystalline as ever, whether used on duets or singing the Chenoweth inspired yodel of 'Popular'. But it's her rendition of, 'Meadowlark' which, admittedly, Schwartz likes the best out of all the divas who have ever sung it - that blows everything else away. As the composer himself admits, the reason so many female singers are drawn to it, is that 'Meadowlark' is so many things rolled into one: full character arc, tons of acting pivot points to play, vocal pyrotechnics - it is a good test of a singer and pianist as well (it's the way I test my accompanists) since the accompaniment is a bitch to play.
Gravitte was introduced as the Tony Award winning actor, and she gave a winning version of the waitress song from Working. A true, New York broad-she also sang with Schwatz on a duet and in person was absolutely lovely. She was also given Schwartz's current anthem, "Defying Gravity" to sing and told a great story about her 11 year old and menopause. With her flowing red locks and impressive stage presence, she's perfect for a Mama Rose or Mrs. Lovett - roles I hope she gets to play soon.
And of course, there was the man himself, Stephen Schwartz. He opened the show with a beautiful rendition of, "Beautiful City" from Godspell and interspersed the show with duets and in a sweet surprise, 'Forgiveness' Embrace.' (a song I often sing for church service) He also gave a short workshop on the evolution of 'the Wizard and I' - and even in this, listening to his inflections, I found where he wanted emphasis and he definitely puts a breath before the last "good" in Wizard and I. Schwartz's voice is obviously not as refined as his stage counterparts, but he has a soul and it's true and slightly Country with a yodel when he switches to falsetto. One of Schwartz's greatest gifts is to be the Obama of musical theater. He is constantly writing about and emphasizing humanity's ability to be great, to find spirituality and faith in god. Often he does this by contrasting it with the more subversive parts of humanity, but with an understanding that it is all the same thing and it is within all of us to choose. Choose the path we take, and we can take the high road.
To close out, and here, even Schwartz sheepishly admitted he knew he was going to do an encore, he sang his version of 'For Good'. What's most important to Schwartz in this song? The "handprint on my heart" line - he sang it slightly sweeter and with a lovely smile. Inspired by his teenage daughter, this song evokes the musical's actual theme more than any of the others. It fully realizes that we will never be in the places that our lives are in today without knowing all the people we know along they way-good or bad. And what seems bad can turn out to be good. Then, all three singers came back out for a gospel stirring rendition of, "Someday" - a song that was eventually cut from 'The Hunchback of Notre Dame'. Versions by Laurie Beechman can be found on YouTube.
Of course we were given the opportunity to do a quick meet and greet with the artists - for the low low price (I'm being sarcastic) of $20 a cd. Which did a pretty brisk business. One of the coolest moments of my life will be going up to Liz Calloway and asking her to sign my cd, telling her I admire her work with Scott Alan and her Swan Princess (hey, I was 14 - gimme a break) And having her look at me and go, "You're a singer, aren't you?" And then getting to meet Shwartz himself. He was visibly and vocally upset about California's recent decision on Prop 8, quoting Melissa Etheridge's bold threat to not pay her state taxes. I didn't know what to say. I feel for all of my friends and family members who are gay and I certainly voted No on Prop 8 - but I wanted to tell this man that he changed my life and he was so upset. Then I remembered, this is what he's about. The good fight, doing what's right, the justice for others and being so concerned and heartbroken about it, that a signing session was not front in his mind. But I asked to shake his hand, and he broke out of his reverie and did it, with a firm hold and a gentle smile.
At the end of the day, that's what the world needs.
Saturday, November 8, 2008
sidenote.
btw:
have you ever been watching a youtube clip or something online and thought, "that bitch is totally going to end up doing porn!!!"
???
i just did. i've never had that experience before. weird.
have you ever been watching a youtube clip or something online and thought, "that bitch is totally going to end up doing porn!!!"
???
i just did. i've never had that experience before. weird.
29 going on 15
Hey blogosphere, how you doin'?
Ok, I don't really talk like that. But after a morning of watching mind numbing YouTube clips, I happened upon the Vlog of Kat Dennings **. Who at age 22 (wow, my brain is having a really hard time with math this morning) is irreverent and engaging. And she talks like that. And it makes me think, I had much more of a solid opinion about the world when I was 22. I think I was more interesting when I was 22; more excited and more interested in doing stuff. Able to stay up late and be wacky and crazy. I don't know what it is about being 7 years older that all of a sudden makes me as plain jane as a white bread cheese sandwich.
And then yesterday, on the train down to the Victoria - I happened upon the 15 year old version of myself. You know when people say, gosh, I wish I could go back in time and talk to myself. This was exactly like that. She was like almost any other Asian American teen in San Francisco. My upbringing was far from stylish. It was a daily uniform of ill fitting jeans, oversized tee shirt and well-worn sneakers. Glasses. Long hair, swept back into a utilitarian, but poorly contained ponytail. A smattering of acne on a moon shaped face. And, most significant, the indignant chin and sure speech of a know it all.
This was me at 15. The self-esteem based in, "I don't care what I look like," - I'm smart and feisty and a woman on the verge of doing something great. I read a lot and I sound like I know what I'm talking about, so people value me for that. I eat what I want, because I'm healthy. I'm good with a quick quip and knowing right from wrong. Poetry written in awful prose, hidden on the side of my desk. Loving pop music, secretly wishing to be indie. To be popular. To be accepted. Doodles, doodles everywhere. Letters written daily to friends, folded up into neat little packages - wondering what is going on with the world. Why people love, why people hate, why people need to eat those dehydrated cheese fries.
I think that was the reason I glommed onto her conversation in the first place. This girl was obviously the Queen Bee of her little threesome. The one sitting, facing the other two. Matter-of-fact. Talking about some guy at her school who had obviously done something not kosher, and she told him off for it. Yeah, so me at at 15.
Again and again, she brought my eyes to her. Not so much crying out, but wanting to be recognized for her sensibility. Her incredible sense for knowing the path of RIGHTNESS. Needing the approval and fellowship of her peers. Then my eyes swept to the reflection in the window to the left. Still young, but so much more comfortable in her own skin. Knowing that there is no right and wrong, only a perspective. Slimmer. Quieter. Chin positioned slightly down - eyes focused, just as analytical but without the keen intellectualized frame of glasses. Shoulders pushing back, seeking respite from the roundess of computer enhanced posture. Ponytail masking the overteased mess from the lingerie clad raunch from the night before. Not so fearful, more of an ease of acceptance. In what will be, will be. The 29 year old me, meets the 15 year old me. And laughs with joy. At the person she hopes she will become.
Sometimes I wish I still had the brio of the 15 year old me. The NEED to tell people what was wrong with their view of the world a la Penny style. These days, my overwhelming desire to have all options open to me can put me into a tailspin of indecisiveness, that hopefully comes off as Zen-monk like, but is really the fear of what my two cents means. Ok, maybe I'm not THAT boring. But I do realize my ability to withstand and hold a conversation these days has dwindled to nil. Especially on show days; a ton of people are scampering around the dressing rooms and I'm finding it difficult to slap on my makeup. Lethargy is my middle name.
Perhaps I shall change it to Brio.
**(Which also makes me realize, I never wrote a review of 'Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist' - mainly cause I often base a lot of personal decisions off of the opinions of friends - which is somewhat sophomoric and STUPID to do. I know this. But finally, here's my review. I thought the movie was sweet and Kat Dennings the standout. Michael Cera played.... unfortunately... Michael Cera. You know, the sweet, humble, gentle, metro guy. The one you totally had a bff crush on in high school who ended up dating the total BIATCH, because he never thought he was good enough. J. does not like the soundtrack, I do. RedHen did not like the premise of the movie at all. I say, at least some teenager does not get fertilized from one night of bored/drunken sex. The only thing that confused and concerned me was, how do all these high school teenagers get into these clubs effortlessly? And play gigs there? I don't think that's kosher in any part of the country, much less Manhattan. And maybe the movie was contrived for the wannabe hipster generation, but I thoroughly liked it. So there. neener. I am waiting to see, 'Zack and Miri' when I have a free moment.)
ps. the last time I chewed gum, I fear I may have given myself lockjaw. I hadn't eaten gum in like ten years. Literally. So from now on, there will be no gum chewed by me. But it takes me back to being 10 and getting a pack of gum every week and chewing a piece of day. And I was like a machine. Paradise Punch was my poison. And if they still made it, I'd be in trouble.
pps. I got cast in 'Nine' at CCCT. Exciting! And my new best friend, our director, sent me a link for all these awesome B'Way scores available for download online. Yeah!
pss. I need to get my ass out of bed. Seriously. It's 11am
ppss. I get to see Stephen Schwartz at BBBay today! It's a momentous occasion! I told someone lately that he was my personal hero. And he totally is, but that statement may have gone a little overboard to relay the fact that I really really didn't want to drive out to Livermore at 8am on a Saturday again.
Ok, I don't really talk like that. But after a morning of watching mind numbing YouTube clips, I happened upon the Vlog of Kat Dennings **. Who at age 22 (wow, my brain is having a really hard time with math this morning) is irreverent and engaging. And she talks like that. And it makes me think, I had much more of a solid opinion about the world when I was 22. I think I was more interesting when I was 22; more excited and more interested in doing stuff. Able to stay up late and be wacky and crazy. I don't know what it is about being 7 years older that all of a sudden makes me as plain jane as a white bread cheese sandwich.
And then yesterday, on the train down to the Victoria - I happened upon the 15 year old version of myself. You know when people say, gosh, I wish I could go back in time and talk to myself. This was exactly like that. She was like almost any other Asian American teen in San Francisco. My upbringing was far from stylish. It was a daily uniform of ill fitting jeans, oversized tee shirt and well-worn sneakers. Glasses. Long hair, swept back into a utilitarian, but poorly contained ponytail. A smattering of acne on a moon shaped face. And, most significant, the indignant chin and sure speech of a know it all.
This was me at 15. The self-esteem based in, "I don't care what I look like," - I'm smart and feisty and a woman on the verge of doing something great. I read a lot and I sound like I know what I'm talking about, so people value me for that. I eat what I want, because I'm healthy. I'm good with a quick quip and knowing right from wrong. Poetry written in awful prose, hidden on the side of my desk. Loving pop music, secretly wishing to be indie. To be popular. To be accepted. Doodles, doodles everywhere. Letters written daily to friends, folded up into neat little packages - wondering what is going on with the world. Why people love, why people hate, why people need to eat those dehydrated cheese fries.
I think that was the reason I glommed onto her conversation in the first place. This girl was obviously the Queen Bee of her little threesome. The one sitting, facing the other two. Matter-of-fact. Talking about some guy at her school who had obviously done something not kosher, and she told him off for it. Yeah, so me at at 15.
Again and again, she brought my eyes to her. Not so much crying out, but wanting to be recognized for her sensibility. Her incredible sense for knowing the path of RIGHTNESS. Needing the approval and fellowship of her peers. Then my eyes swept to the reflection in the window to the left. Still young, but so much more comfortable in her own skin. Knowing that there is no right and wrong, only a perspective. Slimmer. Quieter. Chin positioned slightly down - eyes focused, just as analytical but without the keen intellectualized frame of glasses. Shoulders pushing back, seeking respite from the roundess of computer enhanced posture. Ponytail masking the overteased mess from the lingerie clad raunch from the night before. Not so fearful, more of an ease of acceptance. In what will be, will be. The 29 year old me, meets the 15 year old me. And laughs with joy. At the person she hopes she will become.
Sometimes I wish I still had the brio of the 15 year old me. The NEED to tell people what was wrong with their view of the world a la Penny style. These days, my overwhelming desire to have all options open to me can put me into a tailspin of indecisiveness, that hopefully comes off as Zen-monk like, but is really the fear of what my two cents means. Ok, maybe I'm not THAT boring. But I do realize my ability to withstand and hold a conversation these days has dwindled to nil. Especially on show days; a ton of people are scampering around the dressing rooms and I'm finding it difficult to slap on my makeup. Lethargy is my middle name.
Perhaps I shall change it to Brio.
**(Which also makes me realize, I never wrote a review of 'Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist' - mainly cause I often base a lot of personal decisions off of the opinions of friends - which is somewhat sophomoric and STUPID to do. I know this. But finally, here's my review. I thought the movie was sweet and Kat Dennings the standout. Michael Cera played.... unfortunately... Michael Cera. You know, the sweet, humble, gentle, metro guy. The one you totally had a bff crush on in high school who ended up dating the total BIATCH, because he never thought he was good enough. J. does not like the soundtrack, I do. RedHen did not like the premise of the movie at all. I say, at least some teenager does not get fertilized from one night of bored/drunken sex. The only thing that confused and concerned me was, how do all these high school teenagers get into these clubs effortlessly? And play gigs there? I don't think that's kosher in any part of the country, much less Manhattan. And maybe the movie was contrived for the wannabe hipster generation, but I thoroughly liked it. So there. neener. I am waiting to see, 'Zack and Miri' when I have a free moment.)
ps. the last time I chewed gum, I fear I may have given myself lockjaw. I hadn't eaten gum in like ten years. Literally. So from now on, there will be no gum chewed by me. But it takes me back to being 10 and getting a pack of gum every week and chewing a piece of day. And I was like a machine. Paradise Punch was my poison. And if they still made it, I'd be in trouble.
pps. I got cast in 'Nine' at CCCT. Exciting! And my new best friend, our director, sent me a link for all these awesome B'Way scores available for download online. Yeah!
pss. I need to get my ass out of bed. Seriously. It's 11am
ppss. I get to see Stephen Schwartz at BBBay today! It's a momentous occasion! I told someone lately that he was my personal hero. And he totally is, but that statement may have gone a little overboard to relay the fact that I really really didn't want to drive out to Livermore at 8am on a Saturday again.
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Do you hear what I hear?
Tonight, yes we did.
For the state of a nation, tears of joy. Through the night. Do they know? A hundred different cars on the freeway. Do they know? Toddler asleep, safe and buckled, warm and sweet Do you know? I'll sing tomorrow, with joy. Because you are free little one. We are free.
338 Electoral Votes.
~Barack Hussein Obama ~
44th President of the United States of America
******************************************************************
Ahah! From MyMomIsAFob.com
For the state of a nation, tears of joy. Through the night. Do they know? A hundred different cars on the freeway. Do they know? Toddler asleep, safe and buckled, warm and sweet Do you know? I'll sing tomorrow, with joy. Because you are free little one. We are free.
338 Electoral Votes.
~Barack Hussein Obama ~
44th President of the United States of America
******************************************************************
Ahah! From MyMomIsAFob.com
Desperate voicemail from Mom:
I check mail and see bank statement…someone stole your $200!!!! Call bank!!!!! He put name as Gary Danko.
I call her back:
Mom…Gary Danko is a restaurant in San Francisco…
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