It's like the Grudge III!

Sneaky muthafuckers...those Asian women.

Homeless woman lived in man's closet for year
via MSN

"I iz in yer closet. Eating your onigiri."

I've got a bad feeling about this...

"I think I did have a reputation for being grumpy. I don't think I'm grumpy. I have opinions. I have an independent vision. I am a purposeful person. But on a daily basis, I think I'm other than grumpy. I think it is a case where I am coming to do business and not there just to be flattered and cajoled and used."-Harrison Ford on his 'Blade Runner' experience

Ok, so I saw: Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull last weekend and it is TOTALLY watchable. It not, by any sort of long shot, better than 'Raiders' or even 'Last Crusade', but it is certainly good, clean family fun. With emphasis on the "family".

The good:

-Return of Karen Allen as Marion Ravenwood. I thought hers and Indy's story for 'Raiders' was great, and she's still feisty and in great shape. I don't care what people say, I LOVE when they bring back recurring characters.

-John Hurt as the wily mental case. You're not quite sure if he's included to help or harm. He's been getting a lot of these types of roles in lately. Possibly in preparation for his 'Deathly Hallows' role as Ollivander.

-It's a little bit of a George Lucas tribute film-there are callbacks to 'Star Wars', 'American Graffiti', the first 3 Indiana Jones films and the 50s alien obsession.

-Great soundtrack; John Williams does it again.

-Indy's still kickin' ass. There are some really great stunt sequences in the film and they're generally not the ones that are CG or with Shia LeBeouf.

Speaking of...

Shia LeBeouf is passable but not fantastic as 'Mutt' (oh when you finally get this reference, it makes you giggle) Williams. He keeps calling Indy 'old man' which makes me sad. I used to think Indiana Jones was sexy. Even when he was taking on broader humor in the 'Last Crusade', he still made archeology and swimming in petroleum with a bunch of sewer rats seem hot and sexy. Here, Indy is seriously an old fart who neatly pleats his Brooks Brothers shirts before packing them into his case, leaves his jacket and tie on while going over cryptograms, (COME ON! Would the REAL Indy do that? No! His jacket would be off before you could even say Mesopotamian deity idol) and can't even bear to make out with Marion til death do they part. Shia is supposed to be the 'new' sexy-but to me, he still looks like a kid. Needs to watch Ed Furlong in T-2 to get young and sexy on a motorcycle.

No John Rhys-Davies and no Brody (cause the actor died). Jim Broadbent makes his case as Brody's patsy of a brother, but no dice. Sean Connery as Henry Sr. is also presumably dead.

The bad...the really really bad (SPOILER ALERT!!!)

-the Tarzan scene. WTF

-Cate Blanchett's entire character from horrible inconsistent accent to psychic powers to Natasha haircut. WTF.

-the crystal skull that was apparently made from a discarded 'Aliens' or 'ID4' prop piece. WTF?!

-the aliens that take some temple in Peru to another dimension. WTF!

-the refrigerator scene. WTF.

-the stupid groundhogs. hate.

that is my quickie review. Still 100 million on opening weekend means that many people want to be entertained.

Fearless and foodie.

Dating Tips from SATC: (going this weekend with, who else, the girls! stilettos optional. Pictured, Cyn who is one of my favorite, currently single, gals)

Case study: Carrie

The eternal single girl had her share of romances, chronicled in her weekly column, but the truest love story is the one she wrote for herself. Bad luck and messy breakups were de rigueur in Carrie's life. By surviving the pitfalls — a Manolo-mugging, a computer crash, and a very embarrassing fashion fall — Carrie gained the confidence and strength to continue her search for true love. "The most exciting, challenging, and significant relationship of all is the one you have with yourself," she said. "And if you find someone to love the you you love, well, that's just fabulous." Lesson #7: Be fearlessly single.

********

So, I had an awesome Memorial Day-because for the first time, I sucked up my aversion to oysters and headed North to Tomales Bay. Now, many of you conoussieurs out there will be asking yourselves, "aversion?" My only previous experiences with oysters has been on the notorious Asian buffet tables where they are served with black beans and ginger and have that lovely 3-day old sewage flavour. Last year, tho', the girls took me to Namu for my birthday and introduced me to sweet, fresh kumamotos and they sort of peaked my interest.

After jostling Spam out of her post-party stupor, we headed North on the Golden Gate Bridge where the weather was starting to look up.

Getting to the site was a different story; it pretty much stayed overcast, slightly misty and windycold for the rest of the afternoon. Mr. Bimmer brought his own rig for bbq. The menu was pretty awesome: 3 types of baguette, hummus, chocolate cake, brownies, bacon wrapped enoki, fresh top dogs (lemon chicken and chicken apple), grilled toast, crab mango salad, watermelon, salami/cheese platter and oysters of course!

The madhouse of tables started to fill by 11:30 or so; people of all kinds, but surprisingly mostly Asian and Latino. I guess they know where all the good food is. I've always thought of fresh raw oysters as sort of a yuppie thing to do. And all of the parties, regardless of race, were HUGE. We're talking no less than 10 per table.

The system at the Tomales Bay Oyster Co. is pretty interesting. You can buy bags of large, med or small oysters in different varieties in different increments. Most of us went with the bag of 50 smalls and split them between 3-4 people. (You can see Mr. Bimmer's diabolical look of glee as he plans to spend our money on sweet sweet seafood) Everything here is pretty much no-frills; tables are sparse and barely wiped clean of guano. There are no bathrooms-only porta potties and the grills are the tiny ones you find at GGPark. But the oysters cannot be beat. J-Dawg and Ms. Beach also made mignonette sauces (spicy tomato and citrus honey) to go with the oysters and both were absolutely delicious. But we started throwing the oysters on the grill and I can definitely tell you: I AM NOW A CONVERT.

Slightly smokey, juicy with a hit of the same umami warmth that comes from eating cooked mushrooms-each sucker was delicious and sweet. And I learned the trick to opening oysters, tho' as you can see: Mr. Bimmer, Pilot Inspecktor and Gnaw were infinitely better at cracking the suckers open. So much so that Pilot Inspecktor would have gotten three or four oysters open by the time Cyn or I had even gotten our screwdrivers under one. So we just learned the trick of asking Mr. Bimmer and Pilot to open them for us. muah.

Tomales Bay Oyster Co.

15479 Highway One (about 5mi. North of Point Reyes)

Marshall, CA 94940

Telephone: (415) 663-1242

Fax:(415) 663-9327

Every day from 8am to 6pm.

Tomorrow: dogs named Yogi and Himawari Ramen!

What are you made of?/What are you so afraid of?/Three simple words?

My favorite new photo:
Part of the Hearts in San Francisco project to benefit SF General Hospital. By Precita Eyes Muralists (@ Union Square)

"Hearts in San Francisco was a Bay Area-wide "heart installation" that debuted in the spring of 2004. While similar to Chicago's "Cows on Parade," the San Francisco version used a heart icon, appropriate for a city that is recognized for its acceptance and tolerance, as well as being perennially open-hearted. The goal of this project was to become a unique hybrid of fund-raising, compassionate community involvement, and a positive nurturing of artistic expression at a time when it is sorely needed. The financial beneficiary of Hearts in San Francisco is the San Francisco General Hospital Foundation, whose sole purpose is to fund projects that will enhance patient care and comfort at San Francisco General Hospital Medical Center (SFGHMC). The goal was to raise $1 Million for SFGHMC. As of February 2005 nearly $2,000,000 in funds have been raised. "

In your silence, what do you think about?

Gender-wise, I've often assumed that guys and gals are the same, but that was in my blind naivete. As much as I want to believe that men are like women, they simply are not. And in more ways than have to do with anatomy. For example, I love my silences. I hate it when people fill the spaces with meaningless words or gossip or things that mean nothing. Jerrsika told me the best quote she ever heard was:

"Let the words I speak be as profound as the silence I disturb."

But that utter, gentle peace of silence. Like a blanket that covers my head and lets me breathe without distraction. It's restful. Many times tho', I will continue to think in that silence. Things I want to say or do, things I wish I hadn't, replaying favorite memories in my head, errands, lists, reminders, random thoughts. Song lyrics. Poetry. Passages from books. dirty jokes. A general litany of plans. So even when it's quiet; it only serves to facilitate the re-organization of my brain. And when I'm done; I'm lighter.

Guys don't seem to do this. When they say, "nothing", they literally mean NOTHING. I mean, like the white space of the Matrix before you add the guns, helicoptors or karate dojos.

Even when I'm quiet, I'm thinking. And my thoughts can often seem so much more incredibly profound than what is going on around me. Maybe I'm tired, but maybe I'm just wondering how to get to Corta Madera from the bridge. How to whiten my teeth. What other novels Wilde has written. How I have to get my tights out of the dryer when I get home because I have to bring them to rehearsal. The taste of mango peel. By reading, I have learned more about one person in two days than I may learn in a lifetime. But now, I am thinking.

Never have I wanted to take away something from somebody
Not his hands

Not his song

Can I love as much as she did?

arashidy-mucky muchy...bah.

In my rash stupidity, desire for connection and intimacy-I may have misinterpreted some gender specific signs/body language. Let me try to figure this one out...

When guys are trying to go for the one-night stand hook up, what sort of behavior do they exhibit? Because I may have misunderstood some direction. And I'm just trying to find out my piece in all of this. At all of 29 years old, I STILL do not understand men. I have a fuckton of guy friends and I still...don't get it.

Do they kiss your hand?
Whisper in your ear?
Put their arm around your shoulders
Like it belongs there?
Not copping a feel-just protective.
Give you your freedom
But all you want to do is sit by their side?
And when you ask for some time.
That it's all moving too fast, for you,
He gives you air.

Is it some game that y'all play? I don't feel that-but I could be wrong. Because I've been wrong before. Am I silly to do this again? Fall and fall and fall and fall and fall...

and write bad poetry.

Now I'm letting silence do the talking

Sunday: biding my time til our house is invaded by the Chinese Mafia Dinner Party and I trot my ass of to watch 'Indiana Jones' with Moward.
Currently, our neighbor is using a high powered spray washer to clean the exterior of his house. If you ask me, it all seems a bit excessive-seeing that he does it like at least once a month-it's loud and sounds like a giant vibrator. It is better than the Harley Davidson gang that came zooming up Portola yesterday morning at 8am however. Oy.

Speaking of clean tho', I'm often surprised at how my perceptions often clash with reality. See, I recently bought one of those new fangled swipe-y mops for our kitchen. Mainly because I started getting embarrassed when family would come over and there were be this layer of unidentifiable crust laid over, what used to be, glorious hardwood. It's nobody's fault really; we're a family that likes to cook, eat and also wear their shoes in the house. I'm not sure when my parents decided to deviate from this particular Chinese custom, but it gets grody. So instead of bitching, I decided to do something about it. Feeling all pleased with myself, I got home early last Wednesday and hustled upstairs with my packages. Peering more closely at our floor though, I realized;

It honestly wasn't that dirty. So now, our new mop has found a temporary home, under the sink in my bathroom.

But how often have you had that happen to you? That one thing you thought was one way and in all honesty it turned out to be another. But it took you taking a really close look at whatever it was you were judging. So many times we're told to live in the present and not think about tomorrow-but is that even possible? And I've had multiple people tell me that my disappointment over relationships is due more to my feeling of loss at what might have been (Golden anniversaries, kids, picket fences) rather than the loss of what actually was. I'm currently torturing myself over the 'what-ifs' rather than being content and excited about the 'what-ises'. If we'd only allow ourselves to look at things and situations for what they are rather than what we want them to be or are scared of what they'd become-we'd probably be a happier race of beings.

When it comes to my new swiffer-y type mop, I was actually looking forward to using it to clean and make things all pretty and bright. Just like the commercial-the the point I was actually hoping that our kitchen floor was dirtier than it actually is. I was trying to make something 'better' in my own mind when in reality it wasn't that bad in the first place. Isn't that the story of Life? So here I go again, maybe I'll learn from the last one, that who we are is who we are and whatever we create out of the relationships we happen upon is what we're supposed to get.

Dang-I think I may have just talked myself in circles. Where is clarity in all of this? Huh?

Dammit....I think it's too late to get tickets to this at Bimbo's tomorrow night. Dang, dang, dang. Must remember to start paying attention earlier.


"Another day, another way / For me to open up to you/ I used to worry/ I would wake one day only to find we'd nothing more to say / Now I'm letting silence do the talking / Now I'm letting silence do the walking / Another day, another way / For me to open up to you..."-Jamie Lidell

the last hottest thing a guy said to me? "Yeah...not gonna sleep tonight." Trust me, it was hot.

Non-sequitur

(have been having the worst time trying to start blog entries lately. so perhaps some parenthetical explanation will have to do for now. throw me a flag for the false start, ref)

It's 1pm on a Saturday.
And I'm still in my jammies after having listened to Amos Lee's album about 4x in a row. So I've resorted to reading blogs more more thoughtful than my own and remembering how to breathe. Do you ever wonder, when people see you, what do they see? I've worked for so long and so hard and so diligently on my voice. To be heard, to put a soul to words. And is that all I've become? And if, truly, that's what I am to become-it's not something I mind at all.

And yet, am I all that different from those that came before me? I guess it's hard to find some sort of striking out point without referencing what was before. I'm sitting here trying to write something meaningful and just talking in vague nebulosities. (take that George)

But I'm taking a break today, finally. No class, no rehearsal, no shopping, no...nothing. Just me and a bed and some coffee. And some blogs-the good kind. The ones that make you think, the ones that make you dream and fill out the stretching hours before...oh crap-what time is it?

I do realize, I need a new camera tho'.

I iz in your parteez, eatin' ur canapeez

Ain't it a laugh

Ain't it a treat?

Hob-nobbin' here

Among the elite?

-Thenardier & Madame T.

I have done, quite possibly, the most pretentious thing I've ever done in my entire life. And willingly. But, in very typical Penny fashion, more as a surrealist joke than anything else.

Last night, I attended the grand unveiling of a new art installation.

At the Louis Vuitton store in downtown San Francisco.

With the 'beautiful people'.

I know, right?! Best joke EVER.

The story goes is that Schwarzer and RunningMan are getting MARRIED! And now, thanks to the California Supreme Court, they can share assets and a fluffy, white akita together, legally. So in true HK brand conscious fashion-they purchased committment rings at LV. And landed on the 'high rollers' mailing list. And scored an 'exclusive' invite to the unveiling of their new, permenant art installation, "Hothouse (Blue)" by Teresita Fernandez. Which means; champagne cocktails, high end leather goods and the coked up socialitista. Where do I come in? Well, RunningMan is out of town, overseeing a W hotel in Scottsdale-and not one to be left out of an event, wanted to live vicariously through his hubby-to-be. Which left Schwarzer in need of a date. When it comes to looking pretty, dressing well and acting; I'm totally your girl. So I got to be the lucky 'beard' for the night.

Louis Vuitton's Union Square store celebrated the unveiling Wednesday of "Hothouse (Blue)," a work by artist Teresita Fernandez that was commissioned by the company for the store. The San Francisco store is one of six Louis Vuitton locations worldwide to house a permanent work of art. The 36-foot installation is made of translucent blue glass overlaid with about 16,000 small mirrors. Fernandez, a native of Miami, lives and works in Brooklyn, N.Y. - via SF Gate

"Artist Teresita Fernández's installation, which will turn the Louis Vuitton store on Union Square in San Francisco into an official "Maison" for the luxury company, will add a touch of blue to the environs. That's because Fernández's piece, called "Hothouse (Blue)," consists of a large piece from translucent blue glass overlaid with some 16,000 cabochon mirrors. The effect is dazzling, in the literal sense. "I wanted the piece to activate the space so that viewers entering the store could look up and catch shimmering, reflective glimpses of passersby and atmospheric conditions seen through the windows," Fernández said." - via FashionArtEdit.

We arrived just at the high peak of the party and were ushered inside by some young pretties wearing all black/headpieces, holding clipboards and looking official. The "art" installation was pretty tame. A nice swath of glass with blue splotchies and covered in tiny round concave mirrors-it's...subtle. It doesn't scream 'LV!' to me, which is strange in a store that threatens to cattlebrand you upon entering, but it doesn't really evoke any sort of emotion from me other than, "Ooh, shiny." And being that, to look closely at the piece, you have to go the second floor where all the jewelry is housed...sort of redundant.

Of course, the best thing to look at were actually the people. And for Schwarzer and myself, it was all one huge tremendous joke for two ex-Berkeley grads to mingle with the upwardly mobile. He took me to actually look at the ring they ordered and then it was off to the bar-Pellegrino for me and the pear martini for S. We took a couple of swings around the store; I tried on some sunglasses and they were cute, but I bet I can get cuter ones at F21. While peering at the wallets, we were actually photographed, "talking". ahhaa. How you like them apples? The highlight for me was seeing Yuan-Yuan Tan (company artist at the SF Ballet) and her date. She was wearing a white silk satin coat dress covered in black beaded floral embroidery and a black headband. Thank goodness black and white was de rigeur. I wore this:

with black round toed pumps, opaque flats (I can get away with this, it's San Francisco) and a huge white bead bracelet from H&M. My Banana Republic tan swing jacket with balloon sleeves on top. (for those of you that care...hee)

Other popular looks:

-High waisted satin pencil skirts over ruffly tuxedo blouses (in white or emerald green) with 40s pumps

-Taupe 50's sundress with full skirt, covered in cream colored beaded floral embroidery

-Purple 'Dynasty' cocktail dress

-Pointy toed or open toed pumps with mid height stiletto heels

-Men in a cornucopia of brightly striped oxford shirts

-Cornflower blue satin shirt dress with pink heels.

There was such a bevy of cute clothes that it was hard, mentally, to keep track. Women, although conservative, were definitely better dressed - a particular fave was a low cut v-neck lilac minidress with periwinkle beading on the neckline on a stunning African American woman. But for every attractive British looking hottie in the blazer and striped shirt and curly hair (Hugh Dancy), there was also the Jean-Paul Gaultier look-alike. White, beige and taupe were also popular as well as yellow, purple and green.

The most interesting thing about the night? How it really is just a glorified nightclub. And people are curious about you, simply because they don't know who you are. I noticed looks from everyone, generally friendly, because money talks. It was like all of a sudden belonging to a huge members-only club. We had been pre-screened and therefore instantly accepted, and there was a definite air of interest. Ah, the irony. Canapes-were tasty but TINY! A bbq chicken gougere, tiny portobello mushroom sandwich and chocolate caramels. Not enough for my huge stomach, we ended up at Anjou in Camton Place Alley. Filo wrapped halibut with red wine demi glace for Shwarzer and pan roasted quail for me. Clink the classes, pour the wine-we are Thenardier and Madame T.

But we're the ones who take it

We're the ones who make it in the end!

Watch the buggers dance

Watch 'em till they drop

Keep your wits about you

And you stand on top!

Oops...he did it again.

Blood.
Guts.
Virility.
Men in spandex and fur.
Severed limbs.
Water sports.

No...sorry, not BDSM night at the End-Up, but rather, Malfoy's latest theatrical undertaking..BEOWULF


As previously stated: 'Beowulf' co-created by Banana Bag and Bodice and Shotgun Players may be my favorite theatrical event of the year. And perhaps my bias is showing, but there are plenty of productions that my friends do that I don't love. (see yesterday's entry) Why? Well, let's run down the score shall we?

PRODUCTION:
First and foremost, how do you take a 1000+ year old tale that kids generally have dreaded reading for decades in grammar school and make it a) relevant and b)entertaining? You add the aesthetic sensibilities of New York's underground darlings, Banana Bag and Bodice (whose last shows, 'The Rise and Fall of the Rising Fallen' and 'The Sewers', blended their keen sense of dark and sometimes horrifying imagery with raucous musicale) to the East Bay's rebel yell, Shotgun Players, add a hearty cup of rock show and a hilarious Brechtian type panel of double cast narrators. More specifically you reinact the action this-is-where-the-CG-guys-go-to-town scenes with exaggerated pantomime, puppets/action figures and representative props-while the more drastic consequences on the human psyche: loss, parent-child relationships, self-pity or self-aggrandization, madness and general torture are brought to the forefront. It's a stimulating combination.
And there's a splash zone. That makes me laugh so hard.

CAST: All hail Jessica Jelliffe. The mezzo-soprano diva is at her best when playing the Machiavellian mother of Grendel; a Mommie Dearest of a beast, using her hair chopsticks to pick at the bucket of decapitated soldiers Grendel has brought home to feed her. All piercing sharp eye and quick quip. She is all at once fierce and regal, croons like a Mrs. Lovett with her Sweeney only to turn on her heel and vocalize her agonizing wrath at Beowulf's cavalier murder of her son. She constantly sucks blood from her fingers (a mix of chocolate syrup and Karo...shhhh....) while eyeing the audience, daring them to contest. You feel her pain at the loss of her son; bizarre and slow as he might be. She is at best, la belle dame sans merci-beautiful but dangerous. (no golden snakeskin forked tail suit tho')
Malfoy is...at risk of insulting him, DARLING as Hrothgar. He's written his songs well and his voice soars. Malfoy's king rocks out. He has a scene where he is constantly catered to by his minions (Anna Ishida and Shaye Troha) who move his wheelbarrow chair and hold up his microphone so he can serenade the audience on-what else-an accordian. Then as Beowulf actually appears, Hrothgar is compelled to get out of his chair (ala Theoden) and dance along to the swinging beat.
Jason Craig plays a hilarious bo-hunk of a Beowulf. He's your stereotypical jock, caring little for more than victory over what he labels evil. He arrives on stage to thunderous applause-shearing right through a paper barrier with his broadsword. He kills Grendel because the little guy is a 'dork' and dares to call Beowulf, 'stupid' (the best insult he can come up with) Later on, he finds a bit of remorse when Grendel's mother tells him Grendel was 'retarded', but blames it on his own dyslexia and justifies the murder with the eye-for-an-eye approach.
Christopher Kukenbacker as Grendel is a wonderful physical actor to watch for. His Grendel is not a monster on the outside but rather a sick individual psychologically. He loves his mother in the way that Sloth did in the 'Goonies' - but he jumps, spits and moves about the stage with the acrobatic acumen of a orangataun, the pure joy on his face when he kills is like a child who gets his brother to snort milk out his nose-a game. Nothing more. He also has the bod for this piece as 1/2 his performance is done bare-chested.
The rest of the ensemble is terrific. Cameron Galloway, as the last member of the panel of narrators is sprightly naive yet sensible. A mix of Mary Poppins and Professor Trelawney. She's the most present of the three; registering the same horror, fear, delight and humor that the audience feels. Her final turn is surprising and exciting but takes a while to get to. I figured it out about 10 minutes before it actually happened and the delay made me irritated. Anna Ishida is terrific; both as singer and movement artist. (ie. I'm jealous-she's totally great) Her voice is clear and well focused. Shaye Troha is so much prettier in real life that it seems a shame to cover her up in the tan body armor-still her voice is a bright counterpoint to Ishida's and her long gams don't hurt either. While it would have been easy for both women to play as simple backup girls-director Rod Hipskind was smarter than that and the two are more of a singing greek chorus-they're WORKING. Turning acrobatics, setting prop pieces etc.

MUSIC: It's a sexy band people. Playing some seriously good loud music. And yes, sometimes the lyrics are hard to make out, aside from the occasional "fucking" or "bitch" or other assorted cuss word-but you will want to groove out. Look, anything that will keep me awake at 5pm in the evening after a full lunch and the symphony is rollicking good. Malfoy joins his gypsy jazz beats with full out rock anthems and adds a touch of opera aria (Evanescence anyone?) for some damn fine music. My personal faves were Jelliffe's vengeance aria and Hrothgar's song/Needing Beowulf (oh THAT would be my note...a song list to accompany the program) Shotgun Company member, Dan Bruno has brought in some interesting percussion pieces to emphasize parts of the show: like a wine barrel timpani, anvil and the waterpipe. Brass/woodwinds by Chris Broderick and Jennifer Baker are great and Andre Nigoghossian is always en point; whether on guitar or amplified saw. 16 year old upright bassist, Simon Hanes is cute as a button and is having fun-you can tell. At Sunday's performance when Kukenbaker accidently flung his fake rock backwards hitting Hanes' bass, Hanes' reacted in character. Some fine musician balls on this youngster. All band members are dressed...rather ridiculously, but it only adds to the industrial feeling of the play rather than detracts. (spandex shorts? really costume person?)

STORY/BOOK:
The BBB/Shotgun version of this show truly asks the audience to question black and white. I mean pagan vs. Christianity aside. (which the show's creators do discuss) While you may be disgusted and even horrified by the vaguely Oedipean relationship Grendel and his mother share; no doubt you are on her side as she wreaks havoc on a Scandinavian village and then sets to fight Beowulf in a wrathful battle under a lake. Beowulf is ne'er the stalwart hero-he too has his flaws of being disillusioned and glory-hungry. The panel of narrators is a set of No-Evil Monkeys-clearly opinionated and yet apathetic in their retelling of the tale. You neither emphathize with nor hate them-they are there simply to tell the story. Ishida gets a fine turn as singer in her slightly general vengeance song about one soldier going off to revenge another. It's reminiscent of today's armed forces who give general and rehearsed reasons for going to war. The dramaturg also asks the audience to question what they believe to be the attributes of a hero. And whether or not, we as the reader are manipulated into seeing what we should want to see rather than what is so.

THEATRICAL PLUSES: God I love this set designer.
a) the light up floor panels-very Billy Jean and an appealing modern take on the follow-spot.
b) pendulum mics-used to incredible effect by the entire cast, but a special kudos to Jason Craig for choreographing an ever oscillating swing by all four during his death song.
c) an entire lit up wall of box fans topped by shards of broken glass. At once invoking: fortress, dragon and mountain winds. fan friggin' tastic. I only wish we had had something as cool when we did Miss Saigon.
d) fake hand + arm by the lovely talented Sig Hafstrom.

MINUSES?
There was another blogger's whose review I read yesterday who was critical of the amount of swearing that was in the show and I have to agree a bit. While Jelliffe uses the f-bomb as a satirical emphasis in her aria, the rest of the curse words seem to be throw away. And lose their significance and weight the more they are used. It's akin to using, "like" as filler. The season ticket holders next to me left at intermission. The woman claimed that she couldn't understand the band; my thought was that you didn't really need to. So many parts of the play were basically expounded upon via the narrator panel. The end dragged a bit, especially the part where Craig tells of his own death sequence. I think that song could easily be shared amongst Galloway, Ishida, Troha and Craig.

Overall, I heart this show and it's lusty, no holds barred take on a traditionally dismal classic. It's exciting, high energy and overall-well done. I was envious watching these people play together. It's bringing sexy back.

Go see this show, NOW. It runs til June 16th and you would be silly to miss it.
Shotgun Players
Ashby Stage
1901 Ashby Ave
Berkeley, CA

It's like I'm losing my mind.

Sometimes you have one of those weekends where you just decide, "Eh, think I'll take a load off today and just sit on my ass. Maybe watch those drunk people run naked in a race on tv."

This was not one of those days.

No, there was not Bay to Breakers for me, instead I decided that today was the day that, after a year of sitting prettily on the desk as an unofficial tchochke, it was time for my new/old printer to start pulling some of its weight. Ye olde theater resume and headshot were in demand and after several visits to Kinkos in the last year, the desire to become less dependent on the postage/copy mega location was pending. Unfortunately, due to a bad press of software-the cd refused to install itself offering little more than an 'error message' as consolation. And of course wouldn't give up it's 'read only' manual either.

It totally blows when my software plays hard to get.

Enter Herr Direcktor Wilson-who was calling to see if I wanted to get lunch before the Symphony today. That was all fine and dandy, but I couldn't help but launch into my frustrated diatribe about shitty hardware/software bundling tactics and furthermore corporate entities could go and f%$k themselves when Herr Dir. offered to look at it for me, since he used to be tech support. PROBLEM SOLVED!

We ate at the Pacific Coast Brewing Co. - a comfy, sunny local hangout with convenient stroll to the theater and free wi-fi. The irony is, the last time I ate here, I think I had just seen Monty Python and the Holy Grail with X. Ah time, how you love to mock me so. Still, the PacCoBrewCo didn't fail to deliver and Herr Direcktor put Canon's technical support to shame by finding and installing all the proper drivers lickety split. Lunch was definitely more than decent; if this place only existed in WC-I would be there all the time. Fish & chips for Herr and a grilled chicken, avocado, cheese sammie for me (and fries-I'm not entirely saintly) During lunch we got to reflect on ST and our remount of the show.

It's been a good experience for me; our cast has really gelled together (esp. with our new Winston and Boss) and the band...the band is blowing me away every night with their skill and improv ability. And people from our stage manager to drummer to ticket takers genuinely love being a part of this show. And everyone who sees it seems to like it quite a lot. They find the little parts that make them happy and giggle. Unfortunately, attendance numbers have been low. Eh-we're no Sondheim-nor are we his gimpy cousin-it's somewhere inbetween. We've gotten STELLAR reviews. So by what standards do we judge our experiences? My suggestions to Herr were finding some redeeming male character and to not overestimate NY's understanding of San Francisco. Sadly, even though New York is an incredible locale-full of rich culture and arts, they are still, in many ways, a bubble. The only reason that theater people around the world will tolerate yet another play about living in New York is that for many of them, it is Mecca-the place that you MUST understand in order to make it. Conquer New York and you may as well have conquered the world. But I would be reluctant to say that any New Yorker (unless they are ex-pat) will garner even a perfunctorary glance towards the Bay Area. So a show that is so heavily based on Bay Area locations, humor and ennui...well, I question it transferring to New York without some hesitation.


After lunch, Herr Direcktor and I were off to the Paramount to take in 'Follies' (speaking of Sondheim) featuring one of our mutual friends Mindala. Meant as the highlight of the Oakland Symphony's season, Follies was conceived as a concert piece by it's managing artistic musical conductor, Michael Morgan. 'Follies' is one of those musicals within a musical with the regular neurotic and somewhat difficult to follow Sondheim relationship triangles. You have Buddy and Sally and Ben and Phyllis. Buddy is in love with his mistress (Margie), Sally is in love with Ben and Ben is in love with himself. Generally difficult to stage because of the confusing nature of the characters, Morgan instead presented the musical as a staged reading/singfest, with small set pieces like tables and chairs, and gorgeous showgirl costumes. It would have been even better to just do each song as a stand alone piece. And with songs like, "Losing My Mind" and "In Buddy's Eyes"-would have highlighted the singers and orchestra more cleanly.

Clearly the real reason for the concert was to showcase the phenomenal Bay Area talent we have acquired over the last 5-10 years. I thought Sharon McKnight, in the trio with Rita Moreno, shone with her brassy and confident voice. And her dress was a classy rhinestone encrusted number to match. Moreno, while cute and still fit and lean, was distracting in 'Broadway Baby'-mainly because of the jewelry the costume designer made her wear. Plastic bangles and bakelite necklaces make a lot of noise. Both lead 'older' males had fine voices (Clark Sterling and Christian Nova) but weren't necessarily used to great effect. That honor goes to the ladies; Darla Wiggington, turning in fine performances on 'Who's That Woman' and the ubiquitous, 'Losing My Mind' and Tami Dahbura, who brought down the house singing both, 'In Buddy's Eyes' and the tart, 'Could I Leave You?' Now, my bias will show, as an acquaintance of Dahbura's-but his was a serious tour du force for the mezzo powerhouse. Her sensitivity and handle on the complexity of Sondheim's material was exquisite. Val Diamond's number for Act I, 'I'm Still Here' should have been the closer-she was powerful yet vulnerable, a tricky combination and one that is used well in BBB.

Onto the youngsters: Melody Moore and last minute replacement, Deborah Lambert did a fine rendition of, 'One Last Kiss'-I last saw Moore in ,'Madama Butterfly' as Pinkerton's Wife and before that at a Stern Grove concert where she performed a jaw-dropping intensely gorgeous, L'Altra Notte - it's nice to see this Adler fellow still keeping in the public eye where she belongs. Sweetness and light belonged to Katy Stephan who turned in a great rendition of 'Rain on the Roof', while Mindala gave her lyric all in 'You're Gonna Love Tomorrow' and 'Buddy's Blues' - which is a hilarious song. Why don't people do this song more often? It's a comedic joy, especially when you add Ben Jones' marionette moves, graceful and jerky at the same time. Greg Zema has a clear, ebullient tenor that he uses well on 'The Road You Didn't Take'. Can I also add that all the women were phenomenally dressed? From Stephan's lavender satin to Mindala's white cream satin and cowl draped back, Wiggington and Lambert both chose fully beaded numbers and Dahbura got two costume changes from a cap sleeved, beaded rhinestone number to a criss-cross front one for Act II.

SFGate reviews 'Follies' - Oakland Symphony at the Paramount Theater

I left before Beautiful Girls-the finale, but am sure that it was a blast judging by the number of sequin clad showgirls I ran into in the lobby. A triumph for the symphony for the sheer assembly of incredible talent. And an excellent way to spend an afternoon. But I was off for the 5pm show at 'Shotgun Players' (who I also have an audition for today)...

TOMORROW! MY FULL REVIEW OF SHOTGUN PLAYER'S 'BEOWULF'
as with 'First Person Shooter' - I hesitate to say this, but it may be the theatrical event of the year that you are too silly not to see. Genius. And so much fun! Stay Tuned.

Go if you must go.

Go if you must go
Turn if you must turn away
Don't cry a tear for me

Laugh if you can smile
Run if you're walking away
Don't cry a tear for me

Shout if you can speak
Sing if you mention my name
Don't cry a tear for me

Low in the valley, stand in the wind and the rain
High on the mountain, see the sun shining again

Shout if you can speak
Sing when you mention my name
Don't cry a tear for me

So go if you must go
Turn if you must turn away
Don't cry a tear for me.

Often astounded by the connections that surround us-bringing us closer to each other than we ever thought we were. Quietly humbled by something larger than what I conceive as faith or self or spirituality. The lyrics are to Lyle Lovett's, "Don't Cry a Tear" - a song that Papa Bear loved...and the song that his son, my friend, Bee has decided to sing at his memorial today.

The same haunting, beautiful, lilting lullaby that has been playing in the pre-show playlist for ST since January. The one song that never failed to calm me, got me to appreciate the weird appeal of Lyle Lovett and now makes me understand; even if Papa Bear never got to see the show...

He was watching over me the entire time.

I'm crying.
But he's here, to stroke my head
We hold hands.
And it's ok.

Mother's Day Pt II:

The affects of the prosecco/limoncello death bomb worn off, my parents and I strolled back to car-but not before stopping briefly at the feed/mercantile store and the yarn shop, Fengari...well, if you can call 30 minutes brief. It's easy to get "tangled" up in the lush, colorful array of yarns that are on display here. Hand dyed merinos, silks, chenille and specialty yarns and threads-all incredibly soft to the touch and exciting to the eye. I kept grabbing skeins of yarn just to feel the plush softness-ultimately I did end up with two yarns-a chunky, uneven yarn in a shade of blue/purple perfect for a hat or cowl and another hand dyed shade that was just too gorgeous to pass up.

Fengari
415 Main Street
Half Moon Bay, CA 94019
(650) 726-2550 phone
(650) 726-9207 fax

Luckily, I did not have to drive home-cause the second we opened up the garage door, I went upstairs and got to work on my donation to Mother's Day-cooking dinner. The menu was:
-Duck liver mousse w/ port wine gelee on cranberry walnut crostini with field green salad, champagne vinagrette
-Yukon gold, fennel, artichoke heart gratin w/ gruyere and asiago
-Asparagus
-Rack of lamb crusted with shallot, redwine, balsamic, garlic, butter & breadcrumbs
-Fruit cheesecake

It all turned out pretty well-the mousse was from Mollie Stone's and went perfectly with the slightly sweet/sour/nutty crostini (Acme loaf). I loved the rack of lamb, it wasn't gamey at all and cooked up in no time-in fact the only mishap was the gratin. Because
-I sliced my thumb open using the mandolin to cut potatoes. More of a nusiance than anything.
-Wrong ratio of cream to chicken stock, dish came out oily.
-But I highly recommend the combo of potato and fennel, so delish.


More 1/2 eaten food photos for mmmK!
Photo on (r) is lamb spread w/ honey dijon about to get its breadcrumb crust. Good stuff!

Lunar Noodling in Half Moon Bay

Lack of sleep has naturally led to lack of blogging for the last couple of days. Seriously, any leisure time I've had in the last week has all tended to start around 10pm and has been taken up by needing to work out, Top Chef and catching up with family (who at this point, may or may not even be sure of my existence)

And it's hot as hell in the Bay Area. We're talking in the 90s (!), but then again, we are the nominally spoiled, climate weenies of the universe. "Whadda ya mean it's not within 60-72 degrees? Take it away!"

Thankfully Mother's Day-while sunny and bright-was still breezy. Mr. Jones, Mymymy and myself took a trip down to Half Moon Bay for brunch and ran into their annual parade. (Who knew there was a 'Half Moon Bay' Day? Anyone? Bueller?) But luckily, parking was a snap and brunch was divine. We ate at one of my favorite restaurants, Pasta Moon.

Last year, you might remember my less than favorable review of Cetrella-well Pasta Moon is their sister location; same owner but more casual, cozier and closer to the heart of downtown, I still think that Pasta Moon's food and service is superior to that of Centrella's-simply for their lack of pretension.

Funny story: while we were heading down to HMBay, I remembered that I needed batteries for the digicam. No prob-I thought-I'll stop by the local convenience store and pick some up. Guess what?! No dice, they had sold their last four pack the day before. In an act of desperation, I stopped at the stationery store that's housed in the same building as Pasta Moon; but they didn't have any either. So I gave up and went in for brunch. Two minutes later-the shy, sweet, ponytailed stationiere walked by their big window where we were eating-CARRYING two AA batteries! Seems he had just gotten back from a trip and had extra. I never got his name, but I bought some paper from him later. I LOVE Half Moon Bay.

Let's see some food-no? BTW: a lot of these photos do not have the dishes in their pristine uneaten state, mainly cause I kept forgetting to take my camera out on time.

Prosecco, limoncello, basil, lemon sorbetti apertif

Whole wheat focaccia and regular french loaf. The whole wheat focaccia was so springy and with that amazing burnt orange color. Delicious.

My starter: fava bean and fresh English pea salad with feta. Even though the beans were remarkable-there was just too much feta and oil. I wish I had the tempura asparagus. Oh well, live and learn.

Mmymymy's starter: crabcake with basil aioli. Yummy. Crispy, hot and crab-by. hahah.

And her entree: Creamy polenta and smoked salmon 'lasagna'. So so perfect: layers of bechamel, polenta that was creamy but still firm, red peppers and smoked salmon. Probably about 80 bagillion calories, but who's counting right?

Mr. Jones' entree: seared flank steak with cherry tomato, fresh arugula and field greens. I've had the flank steak here before and it's excellent.

My entree: house made tagliatelle with duck confit and orange. I thought the overall taste of the duck was good. But I think I'm not used to homemade pasta-I found it really tough and almost undercooked. And the cheese and citrus was odd.














Desserts: Molten chocolate cake with peanut butter and vanilla gelato.
Sorbetti terrine (pineapple, raspberry, coconut)
Strawberry shortcake

hope everyone had a great Mother's Day-Pt. II up soon

I'll give you a topic...discuss

Yay, more geeky Browncoat writing! Firefly fixes fertility.

Lollipop: What's for lunch?
Nickelback: It'll be in my belly in about twenty minutes
LP: NO, no eating babies.
Pen: Nooo?!?
LP: No. No babies.
Pen: But they are so tasty!...(quietly) especially the round ones.

"If sex and creativity are often seen by dictators as subversive activities, it’s because they lead to the knowledge that you own your own body and with it your own voice, and that’s the most revolutionary insight of all." —Erica Jong

Forget Gossip Girl-watch something that rocks.

OMFG.
Online dance battles.
With mega budgets.
Hip hop music
Star cameos
Controversial starlets.
Directors of cult-tastic dance movies
Asian people.
Miley Cyrus.
daddy, housekeeper, flight attendant, your caterer
It's the wholesomest, coolest, righteous thing EVER.
fucking awesome. I'm sorry THIS rules.

Life is SOOOO good!!

He is a rolling stone.

A couple of months ago, I wrote an entry about my friend's father, Papa Bear. It was on my old site, so it can't be linked currently. Basically, about two years ago, PB was diagnosed and treated for a large brain tumor after collapsing at the police academy. This morning I got an email telling me that the end...is nigh.

The fact that he has lasted this long, in such amazing, lucid, coherent condition is a miracle. He IS love, in it's purest, gentlest, strongest form. He is a father, husband and former police officer. If you ever wanted to find a hero-I would put Papa Bear in as a strong contender. I'm not sure if anything I could say at this moment would be poetic or truly string into words what I feel for this man. But I can tell you a story...about us.

So right around the time Papa started going into the cancer center at Stanford for treatment, he would keep in touch with people via cell phone. One day, I was delighted and surprised to see his name popping up on my phone. I answered:

"Papa Bear? Hi!!"

he was barely intelligible. His normally gruff voice coming out as a whisper calling his wife's name. It was so hard to listen to.

"Papa? Papa? Hi...it's Penny."

"...Penny?"

"Yes, I think you called me by mistake."

"Oh. I wanted to call Mama."

"Ok, do you want me to call her for you?"

"No. I can do it."

"Ok...bye baby."

"Bu-bye."

I called my friend and let him know that Papa was trying to reach Mama, then left to use the restroom. When I got back to my desk, there was a message flashing on my cell phone. Papa Bear had called me back-to APOLOGIZE. For calling me and bugging me at work. Now, remember-this is a stalwart, 60 year old man in the hospital for chemo to treat his incurable brain tumor. Who has a loving wife and 5 kids. Who came to see my play in a wheel chair, who always asks to hear my gospel song at any time of day or night, who loves unconditionally and with grace and humor. He was calling to say sorry to me?

Frankly, they do not make them like this anymore. This current culture puts too much stock in the ironic, the sarcastic, the snark, the jadedness, the cool aloofness that allows the individual to put themselves above others and never fully engage with another. That praises competitive back stabbing and mocks of the compassion of others. The culture that takes pure souls and innocent hearts into a place where they are not allowed to survive if they do not become corrupt themselves. Cultivates: gossip, jealousy and worst of all, apathy. Enough ranting on my part.

This is not a man without flaws by any means, but this is a man who loves and lives in spite of those flaws and by doing so, outstrips any of your typical cultural icons. Thoughts, love and prayers to my adopted family-and to you and yours.

Which wand?

Wood type: teak Length: 11 inches Core: Dragon Heartstring get your own wand!

Being a Pottergeek comes with its own sort of neat little perks, one of which includes neat little apps and games-like the one above. Enjoy!

brunch at Zuni Cafe

Dear blog...you still holding in there?

I've been neglecting you, more due to my own self-possessed obsession than my actual love or hate of you. My bad. Still, there's been a lot going on. Just be glad you're not a parrot or ficus or something. You would be brown and surly by now.

Ok before I start getting morose, if you are interested in seeing the fabulous show, listening to our kick ass band and meeting some interesting homeless people go here! ST @ Brown Paper Tickets. We run til the end of May; and we're singing and dancing our little hearts out.

Opening weekend was ok. Not fabulous. As SquirrelMonk pointed out, I think we may have exhausted our theater points for this year. See, each year you get a certain amount of points (like an allowance) that are equivalent to the number of friends and family feeling like they need to see your show to be supportive. Apparently, I am out of points.

And I thought I would get more cause it was my birthday. Suckah.

Still, we had some very loving people see our show this weekend including: Jerrsika, Joolie and BlackBeltBui, Moward, Sayer, Synth and our production crew from CA and also some nice reviewers. Still...I can't help thinking that we might die a slow death. Which sort of sucks. I haven't been part of a really poorly attended show yet. Then again, this is the first time I've been playing in a medium sized house. So I get to be grateful for what I have rather than what I have not.

And I got new shoes. yay. (and a dress and two tops and a cupcake) The 'rents took me to Zuni Cafe for brunch. Quickie Review:
Drinks:
Latte, coffee with steamed milk and Arnold Palmer (which was too sour)
Starters:

• House ceasar (totally awesome, this is what people love about ceasar salad)
• homemade scone with house preserves - very light and flaky, but not worth the price

Entrees:

• Neiman Ranch grilled pork chop with fingerling potatoes and asparagus-delicious! The pork was fully cooked thru and juicy, the lemon vinagrette brought out the best in the asparagus and potatoes.

• Pizza with mozzarella, asiago, herbs, pancetta and red onion: you could see through the crust! It was crispy and salty and delicious. Mymymy only wanted to finish half, but she ended up eating most of it.
• Fried eggs with nettles, chickpea ragout and...something else. I wanted to taste the nettles and I thought it was ok...not fab. Glad I stuck with the pork chop

Dessert:
Gateau Victoire: flourless chocolate cake. Eh...somewhat pedestrian
Espresso Granita - Mymymy was totally buzzed after sort of hoarding this dessert.

that's all folks.

Hijinks

Overheard at rehearsal:
Sanjose: Hey! You guys are off on the snaps. They're on 2 and 4 not 1 and 3.
Kahn: But you got it together by the end.
Floyd: Cause we all looked over at Pen and she had this disgusted look on her face.
Pen: ahha yeah, "Ugh! Get it right you morons!"
Kahn: Oh? Is Pen the best snapper?
Sanjose: Yes, Pen is the best 'snapper'.
Winston: So you guys know we're off if she looks pissed or not.

Floyd: I gotta get my headshot up there
Winston: Oh, is it the one on your facebook?
Floyd: Yup.
Winston: It's good.
Pen: Yeah, it makes you look young.
Floyd: ...what?! HEY!
Pen: Hee hee hee! I'm the best 'snapper'.