So you ain't English then?

tiny desk

Fanfarlo did this last Christmas.
I've been waiting a year for it to be seasonally appropriate.

I love the cover at the end.

hunker hunker

(via loosetiger) (via christopher-walken)

Thanks, Batman.

local natives tonight

allergic.

time traveling man in drag

Via How to be a Retronaut



“This short film is about a piece of footage I (George Clarke) found behind the scenes in Charlie Chaplin’s film “The Circus”. Attending the premiere at Mann’s Chinese Theatre in Hollywood, CA – the scene shows a large woman dressed in black with a hat hiding most of her face, with what can only be described as a mobile phone device – talking as she walks alone.

I have studied this film for over a year now – showing it to over 100 people and at a film festival, yet no-one can give any explanation as to what she is doing.

My only theory – as well as many others – is simple… a time traveler on a mobile phone. See for yourself and feel free to leave a comment on your own explanation or thoughts about it.

George – 20th October 2010″

this week

Oh, man. Jellyfish pot pie. Via Boing Boing.


Madewell calls this a poncho, but I'd rather think of it as a cape.



This is so strange. Via LOOSE TIGER.



Camper TWS Though it is far more likely I will get these practical beauties.

first year show soundtrack

Jónsi - Go Do from Jónsi on Vimeo.

magic

Somehow I am lucky enough that the powers that be are letting me spend a month of my life hanging out in Vermont, doing theatre with college freshmen.

To me, this is heaven. I lie in the striped blue sheets of the furnished apartment they put me in and look out the triangle window at trees beginning to go orange, a church steeple and, behind them, the mountains.

Also, the theatre with 18 year olds part is pretty perfect. One of the guys in the show told me at the first rehearsal that this is his first play. Ever. Which I somehow overlooked when casting the show but happen to think is totally awesome. Because I get to teach him really exciting things! Like what it means to cross downstage. And today I told him about staying open to the audience. It's little stuff you take for granted, but he's smart so he gets it right away.

But later in rehearsal today, something happened. I gave him a note about the gentleness of a line, of a moment. A small but important note which I expected to have to reiterate a couple of times and go back over in subsequent rehearsals. Because this kid is so green, right? He's new to this and to this vocabulary and his ability to understand and then control the trajectory of a scene is probably very limited.

But the dude did it. Immediately. He took the note. He totally changed on that line, opened himself up in the scene and connected with the actress opposite him in a way which I have yet to see him (or anyone here) do in rehearsal. And then he took it a step further and let that change motivate him to make a choice, to surprise her by extending his hand to her.

It sounds so small. And it was. But it was beautiful because of the firstness of it. For him. And because I know he really felt the magic that people who do theatre get to feel sometimes. He felt that for the VERY FIRST TIME. And it was just incredible to watch.

Maybe I got a little choked up.

all geriatrician offices should have pianos

gospel

via Design Crush
via ffffound

Can't I go back, please?

city living

A 30 something year old black woman in a fabulous camel coat, brown heels and straw hat (who was probably on a lot of drugs) to a very attractive black professional man in stripes trying to read his newspaper just after rush hour on the metro:

"What's the difference between a pig and a lamb?"

He ignored her. She asked again, "Are they the same thing?"
He realized it wasn't a come-on or the beginning of a dirty joke and tried to answer her question.

The train started again and the noise of the rails drowned out their conversation. After she got off the train, though, that man grinned to himself through the next three stops.

It kind of made my day, too.

'round town

listen

I'm Sorry

My old cubicle buddy and friend, Maria, turned me onto this. She knows how deeply runs the love I have for Andrew Bird. She has watched me at my desk, gripping my headphones, complex emotions taking over.

But this, this is really strange. And kind of creepy. And also beautiful.



Margaret Cho talks about writing the song here, on her blog. When she googled the name of the man for whom she harbored feelings, Wikipedia told her that he'd been convicted of murdering his wife and stuffing her body in the wall of their home.

So she wrote this song.

volume

I have spent most of my life alternately dreading and hoping against hope that my hair can reach these volumes of unbridled magnificence. It's what drives my ability to go six, seven, eight months between haircuts.

Today I must, once again, dash all hope.

pretense

Ignore for a minute the fact that the trailer seems to GIVE AWAY THE MOVIE (unless it's a red herring...) -- I am excited about it. I loved Gone Baby Gone, I think Ben Affleck finally found his calling, and I am happy for him.

My favorite part is where they don't mention that he directed it. Like he (or the studio, or someone) is keenly aware of how little street cred he has these days as an artist. It makes me like him more and reminds me of this AV Club interview with Mindy Kaling where she talks about his shitty yet unpretentious taste in music.

I also like this (totally pretensious) song a lot.

sail

Because she loves me, and she reads my blog, wherein I expressed my summer desperation to be on a sailboat (and in the presence of the ever-sexy knots) my dear friend Molly took me on her sailboat this weekend!

Well, it isn't her sailboat, per se. But it belongs to her museum. Of which, I like to imagine, she is the queen of the art. The boat art.




It was fairly amazing. We sailed around Manhattan. Or a couple of sides of it, at least. In the EastHudsonPotomacMississipi River. Thing. (Okay, you got me, I am not really sure. I am very bad at NYC geography, even though I'm an expert at putting on my angry city face and appearing to be a local.)

Molly and I didn't bring any wine on board, though other people did, and next time --there will be a next time!-- we surely will. The wind was strong and the boat was a bit rocky, which was a teensy rough for my precious little tum tum, but my wooziness subsided eventually. Thanks, every once in a while, to a gorgeously cool spray from ther river (I choose not to think about the cleanliness of the water with which we were being sprayed, and chose instead to believe that it was pure ocean cerulean.)

The boat is manned by volunteers and I was especially intrigued by the the two youngest people, who spent a good amount of time chatting at the front of the boat, directly in front of where Molly and I seated ourselves. He was thin and blonde, not quite a full-fledged man, but capable in his sailing duties (that's him, silhouetted, above). She had curly pigtailed braids, glasses, and wore demin shorts with small embroidered flowers on them. (Of course, I took a picture of those, too, but I draw the line at posting pictures of girls bums.) She was one of those chicks who posesses a confidence level beyond her outward appearance -- a quality I greatly envy, as I can never shake off my own belief of how strangely different I am from most other people in order to come up with a way to engage. There really was an energy of connection between the two of them standing there in the sunset. Though, he eventually left her alone at the front of the boat, suddenly aware, it seemed of her glasses and tiny embroidered flowers.

Captain Hook feels badly.

Do I dare admit that I learned how not to use adverbs last night?

No big deal. I only have a Bachelor's degree in English from a fancy (and expensive) liberal arts school. They don't teach sentence diagraming at Middlebury, it turns out.

I was watching The Bachelorette (I know) eating pizza (second night in a row?) and chatting with my friend, Leslie. (If you hadn't guessed yet, this post is not about how beautiful, interesting or attuned my big city life is.) It became clear that I was having trouble correctly attaching and detaching the "ly" from the ends of my sentences.

She imparted to me this piece of Captain Hook wisdom first taught to her by the incomparable Dr. Elizabeth Ballard of Norman High School.

And, finally, for the first time in 26 years, it all made sense. Because, yes, we all know that Captain Hook is really bad at feeling.

Thanks, Doc. I can't thank you enough.

plans (an incomplete list)

During a dinner party for my birthday last month I was encouraged to share my goals, dreams, hopes for my 27th year. In retrospect I realized that I took the question far too literally. And far too seriously. I talked mostly about achievement and accomplishing. (Probably because that's where I feel the most defective.)

I would rather have focused on the small things. Small, daily, achievable goals.

This year I want to:

Remember to smile.
Dance more.
Buy second-hand.
Pumice, exfoliate and moisturize.
Initiate!
Mend the holes in my clothing the moment they appear.
Try more mixed drinks.
Read. A lot, lot more.
Remember to stretch.
Give a guy my phone number.
Direct some (a lot of) theatre.
Become a photographer.
Write.
Visit museums.
Learn more about Oklahoma.
Go on a blind date.
Talk.
Ride a bicycle.
Upholster, tile or re-finish something.


This is the cake I ate on my birthday when I was too serious.

As Promised, Hot Ginger Ladies, Part 2

I don't remember a time in the past decade when I wasn't head over heels fascinated by Julianne Moore.

Watching her on screen, I find myself excited and passionate about being a woman. There is something inspiring in her strength, femininity and intelligence.

Also, she's 49 years old!
Which is unbelievable. No 49 year old should be this hot.

She told the NYTimes Magazine something about her hair recently. This thing I keep thinking about:
"I’ve been wigged plenty of times, but the funny thing is that even when I have a different hair color, people tend to still remember me as having red hair."

a pastime

Sadly there was no sign of Strassburg.







But I liked the colors.

mom-safe mix

After I explained to her what the "Indie" preceding Rock, Folk, Pop and Film meant, my mother nosed around for her very own mix tape.

When I asked her what kind of music she would like me to include she exclaimed, "Indie Rock!", "happy!" and "not too far out."

The result is mostly folk and pop with a rock-y tinge. Turns out most of the really good music I own would not be considred "happy" by mom standards.

It's in the mail, Mom.
And here's the track list. So you all can judge me. And so when my mom inevitably loses the one I put in the package, she can find it here.

Bleeding Heart Show – The New Pornographers
The Gardener – The Tallest Man on Earth
World News – Local Natives
July, July! – The Decemberists
Silver Lining – Rilo Kiley
Australia – The Shins
Lisztomania – Phoenix
My Rights Versus Yours – The New Pornographers
Big Bird in a Small Cage – Patrick Watson
The Mystic – The Swell Season
Little Lion Man – Mumford and Sons
(You Don’t Know) How Glad I Am – The Living Sisters
Crash Years – The New Pornographers
Just What I Needed – The Cars
Taj Mahal – Sam Roberts
The Next Messiah – Jenny Lewis

**I know I'm breaking mix tape rules with The New Pornographers. I just couldn't help it.**

comedienne

I just registered for an improv class.

What, oh, WHAT is the world coming to?

Soon, I will no doubt look like this. It is inevitable.

it can't swim, apparently

I bought this absurdly obsolete thing for $1 on Saturday morning.


A small, English woman, directly out of an Agatha Christie novel, had set up tables across from the farmer's market. She had an assortment of vintage shoes, nighties, hankies, magazines.

I couldn't resist.
A bit of research has revealed that this particular machine -- the Polaroid Land Camera 104 isn't especially rare, nor does it take particularly great photos. Plastic lens, plastic body. Apparently four or five models of the land cameras were made with glass lenses and metal bodies. And those, my friends, are the ones you want to get your hands on. So keep an eye out!

Despite the ridiculousness of the thing-- the sheer size and the silly nostalgia throwback of it all -- I look forward to getting my hands on some instant film. Though at $12 for 10 frames, I may have to save it for hipster weddings and rooftop parties in the Village.

sorkin blogged!

It is a fact that I believe Aaron Sorkin to be possibly the most genius writer alive.

And apparently he felt compelled to chime in recently on the whole 'Ramin Sedoteh/Newsweek/Sean Hayes is gay and Kristen Chenoweth is pissed' issue.
His decision to blog about this (for the Huffington Post, no less) fascinates me, especially considering his past with one of the main players.

What is important here is not that I wholeheartedly agree with much of what he has to say. No, the important thing is that Aaron Sorkin is saying things to us again, people! He is feeding us his words and ideas. And I for one am going to take notice. I truly believe the world would be a better place if Mr. Sorkin took up blogging permanently. I would google reader that shit before you could say Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip.

Oh, how I miss you West Wing seasons 1-4. Facebook movie, you better be awesome.

26

It is almost the weekend! Which means food, drink and much birthday celebrating.

I am overjoyed to spend it with a fantastic group of people living in Washington, DC right now. As our urges to flee this sometimes suffocating city surface, people leave and things change, I am taking the time to be thankful for the precious things.

Thank you, precious people.

World News

You should start listening to Local Natives' debut album, Gorilla Manor, if you aren't already. I'm serious. Do it. Do it now.



The harmonies are subtle but complex, and absolutely integral to the sound of the album. I want to live in them. It was released at the very end of 2009 but has really become my favorite of 2010 and is a fantastic sound to swim around in at the beginning of the summer. Listen to it on your morning commute. Preferably on some big ass lime green headphones.

Also, is it just me or is that Bull from Night Court wearing a toupee?

pretty pretty prisoners

The Cleveland County jail in Oklahoma has recently updated the required uniform for inmates.

Yes, seriously.
Here's an article about it via my new Okie neighbor, Leslie.

Christopher Walken has ticklish knees

I could watch Zoe Kazan do an impression of Christopher Walken being tickled for hours.




Zoe, let's go shopping, talk about Nabokov and have a falafel double date with your boyfriend, Paul Dano.

a different kind of queen

There was a charming old hispanic man who was flirting with all the cahsiers at my neighborhood grocer - they called him viejito and giggled.

He held the door as I left with my groceries and gave me a wink, calling me "Queen of Queens" in Spanish. I, too, giggled. He was surprisingly charming. Until, wonderingly, I googled "Reina de Reinas."

Oh boy.

Things I Learned at a Texas Wedding

You can wear sunglasses that are equally effective at keeping out bees.


There is apparently a very real concern in Texas about flooding on the Dallas interstates. The signage continually commands you not to drown.

Sparklers at weddings are both awesome and terrifying.


It is possible (and this one is quite a surprise) to drive for half an hour in Ft. Worth and not see one bar or coffee shop!

But Ozona's in Dallas will make you giant mimosas and delicious juevos rancheros to share with wonderful friends. You might have to sit on a menu to keep your pants dry on the patio, but it will be totally worth it.


Also, here is a picture of my sister's hamster, Edward.