tavie.com

Coupla things:
1.Mr Foley was magnificent tonight on Politically Incorrect. And his hair is back to that old cute haircut that I love.

2. Gina had her hair cut in Israel behind my back. She is NAUGHTY.

3. We finished painting the trim in the dining room. Go us!

4. Cheryl and her friend Mike just got here! And they're watching a Farrelly Brothers movie! Please make it stop.

5. I am never calling Goose again. Every time I do it's always when I KNOW she's not going to be home but have FORGOTTEN until the very moment her mom gets on the phone and TELLS me she's not home, and then I sound quite the fool, and her mom probably thinks I'm an idiot. And let's not even talk about the spazzy message I left Matt earlier tonight. Creeeeeeeeeepy. (We are SUPPOSED to all meet for lunch tomorrow, but if I'm going to be in charge of coordinating it, well, it just ain't going to happen.)

6. It's Christmas at Mint Manor! Tomorrow we get a tree!

Why are you in Tavie's head? 1:05 AM | shower me with attention

Friday, December 07, 2001

Holy sweet Jesus, he was the understudy for Huck Finn in "Big River". I've never heard "Big River" or seen it, but I have recently fallen in love with the character of Huck Finn (shut up, it takes me a long time to get to things, okay?) and now I have something ELSE to regret missing.

Damn you, JCM!!

Why are you in Tavie's head? 4:44 PM | shower me with attention

Christmas came early for Tavie today upon her discovery of this old Idiot's Delight episode archived on WFUV which features a live interview with John Cameron Mitchell, who performs a live version of my favourite Hedwig song, "Sugar Daddy".

Listening to this + working = Bliss (-work)

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh yeah, baby.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 4:43 PM | shower me with attention

Cheryl finally posts! (Or, her posts finally show up!)

Too much to respond to. I shall take it to email.

Tavie gots ta pee first, though.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 1:36 PM | shower me with attention

Ummmm... did I specify who was the genius and who was insane? I did not. The Brain may very well be insane. After all, she was at the school library at 2 a.m. the other night...

Why are you in Tavie's head? 12:20 PM | shower me with attention

The children are making me thirsty. I want a wacky-blight milkshake, too.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 10:02 AM | shower me with attention

Tomorrow, tomorrow! Steve and the Brain, Steve and the Brain, one is a genius, the other insane!

And then: EL VEZ!

This totally cancels out the bad latte-aftertaste I'm currently experiencing!

Why are you in Tavie's head? 10:00 AM | shower me with attention

Thursday, December 06, 2001

I almost died last night reading this. Very, very, very amusing.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 1:13 PM | shower me with attention

I have made a mind-blowing discovery that shall change the face of my hatred for the Evil Other Desk forever: INTERNET RADIO! Sure, I get about 66 % less work done because I'm so busy flipping through the stations looking for good music, but, oh my, it's wonderful. I especially love the stations with all-holiday-music programming.

Now that I have discovered the wonders of this magical invention (I've only ever used it at home on my slow computer to access the local folk station and to get CBC once or twice), I'm now open to suggestions for your favourite radio stations/programs accessible on the internet. Share with me, good people.

And those of you who have your own show, remind me where and when it's on. Even if it's not during work hours. (I can make a special effort from slow home.)

Why are you in Tavie's head? 1:07 PM | shower me with attention

Last night I went to meet the sister (I say "the sister" instead of "Kirsten" because I'm wearing the shirt that makes me look like a nun today, and please call me Tavie Superior) at the bazaar-thing in Union Square. I got there very early so I could get some books in the old-fashioned kind of bookstore. I told myself I'd only get two but I walked away with Cathedral (Raymond Carver), The Edible Woman (Margaret Atwood), White Teeth (Zadie Smith) and New York Times Sunday Crosswords 27th ed (Will Shortz). All except the crossword were recommended to me by various friends. (Under which section, by the way, would Pamela Dean be classified?)

Then I met Kirsten and I spent more money buying useless but pretty trinkets for various pals.

{deadpan} An exciting eve, so very worthy of being blogged about. {/deadpan}

Why are you in Tavie's head? 10:06 AM | shower me with attention

An hour late. An HOUR LATE!

Ah, who cares.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 9:58 AM | shower me with attention

Wednesday, December 05, 2001

Oh! Something interesting I learned at lunch. I had always wondered why Alex (9/11 walking buddy and current immediate superior) has pictures of chimpanzees over her desk, but never remember to ask. Today Catherine mentioned that Alex used to be an anthro chick, and worked with chimps, and went to visit them last summer and they remembered her and everything. I find that so very cool. I really must ask her about it. It would be good small-talk practice, no?

"So, tell me about your chimps..."

Why are you in Tavie's head? 4:14 PM | shower me with attention

Catherine, office chick whose desk is next to my evil-other-desk, asked me if I'd had lunch yet, and did I want to go?
A new step in Office Socialization. I was slightly less shy and awkward than I usually am. We went to Pret-a-Manger and brought back food to eat at our desks. Baby steps...

Today's vaguely appropriate Aimee quote:

Oh, Susan
the hope of fusion
is that the halo will reappear
It may be pure illusion
But it's beautiful while it's here...

Why are you in Tavie's head? 2:04 PM | shower me with attention

WTF??

Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:34 AM | shower me with attention

By the way, since I'm feeling so iambically pentametous, anyone who sends me email in iambic pentameter today gets a Frozen Hot Chocolate next time they're in my general neighbourhood.

It doesn't have to be good iambic pentameter. An example would be:

I started off my day in quite a fog
But I was cheered up greatly by your blog.

I am a reeeeeetard.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 9:53 AM | shower me with attention

The vaguely appropriate Aimee quote for yesterday, by the way, was:

There must be some other door that they are saving
Behind which my happiness lies...

Today's quote yet to be determined.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 9:50 AM | shower me with attention

I am a Chieftan Carved out of Cheese.

My raspberry motivation slides transparently beyond the elongated prune. I dig widely upon the bus of my leather mangroves. Hygienic cameras pardon my curly white atmosphere.

Grant the wise barnacle, forsooth? The Utterly Surreal Test

May the fun never start. Bua!

Why are you in Tavie's head? 9:46 AM | shower me with attention

[If I were an online test, I would be How British Are You?]

I'm How British Are You?!

I know the differences between Brits and Americans, and I'm just so glad to tell you all about them. I won't say too much, though, or I'll exceed my daily bandwidth limit. Again.

Click here to find out which test you are!

Thanks, Jodi. I am enjoying this way too much. It's now beginning to feel like holding two mirrors up to each other to try and see infinity...

Why are you in Tavie's head? 9:44 AM | shower me with attention

Tuesday, December 04, 2001

Now it's great that you should suggest Raymond Carver, because I remember that I read the story "Cathedral" in an English class summer before last, and thought it was wonderful and wanted to read more, but forgot.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 3:24 PM | shower me with attention

The fingers know not what they numbly beat
Upon these meekly yielding plastic drums
Whose faint tattoos announce the dull defeat
Of all but slavish thoughts to weekly sums.
The fingers now know naught but to obey
And only seek their ill-begotten prize,
Ignoring every brief urge to betray
The orchestrator of her own demise:

The mind which had a rhythm once its own
Now instrument of data-entry drone.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 2:33 PM | shower me with attention

After I hung up after leaving my second brusque voicemail ("Please get back to me and let me know about the status of that, as it DOES need to be done by five o'clock, thank you very much"-click), I let out a "YEAH" that was total Vinnie Barbarino. Then I had to look around to make sure no one heard.

I am so not cut out for this stuff. :D

Octavia "Notify me if there are any problems" Phillips
But I was hired for data entry...

Why are you in Tavie's head? 1:53 PM | shower me with attention

Haw yeah! The adrenaline's pumping now! Arnold asked me to call a couple of people and verify the status of the shutting-down of some servers that need to be done by 5 tonight. I had to call people I don't know, and talk to them, and then send emails, and then call back and do all this damn annoying verifying-- god, everyone's JOB around here seems to be making sure that someone got an email and is doing what it says to do, and if not why not-- but WOO, I am a cog in the machine! That was completely frightening! Thank god they didn't ask me any questions other than "What servers?" ("Duhh... the ones in the CAN, silly!"), because I swear to god I don't even know what a server IS, I can't remember what CAN stands for, but I am a techno-bureaucrat, baby, yes I am!

That was oddly envigorating.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 1:49 PM | shower me with attention

I'm almost done with Huckleberry Finn. I was going to do Tom Sawyer next because I'm enjoying Huck so much, but Tom Sawyer just showed up in the book and he is being so damn annoying that I don't think I could stand to read a whole book about him. I left Goblet of Fire at Gina's and so now I need some book suggestions, please. Any book you really enjoyed at any time in your life, please recommend. I need to get lost somewhere fictional. I like the classics, but I also like the non-classics, so. Anything, really. Please.

By the way, I want to add how damn unfair it is that I went to bed at 11 last night and still ended up tossing half the night. Do I have to take Benadryl every night? I tried to float down the Big Muddy with Jim and Huck and John Lennon (Stay in bed, float upstream/float upstream...) but 't'weren't doin'.

Now... I really... really... really ought to go ask for some work. It's been three hours.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 12:18 PM | shower me with attention

Also: Can't bring myself to go ask someone in authority to give me work to do. No one's really noticing that I'm not doing anything today and although I feel guilty, I rather like it this way. But someone will notice sooner or later and it would look better if I was the one taking charge of my inactivity.

And: felt so sleepy, went into the ladies' room, locked self in stall and cat-napped for ten-minutes. Didn't help. Keep fantasizing about that "Seinfeld" episode where George has a bed build under his desk. If the under-my-desk weren't so visible I swear on a stack of signed Dave Foley glossies that I'd be there right now, dreaming in a tight ball.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:51 AM | shower me with attention

Oh my god, yes.

Problem: I can't think of what in this world is interesting.

Solution: ?

Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:48 AM | shower me with attention

If I was a work of art, I would be Pablo Picasso's Three Musicians.

I am colourful and provoking, always looking to break out of the mould and to pioneer new ways of doing things. I have a jaunty outlook and although I am a bit weird, most people have some idea what I'm about.

Which work of art would you be? The Art Test

Link c/o Tara.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 10:02 AM | shower me with attention

I meant, of course, to say "Whip It" down there. (No, not "whip it down there", ewwww. Now what kind of referrals am I going to get?)

Um. Here I am, shooting myself in the foot. I never met a bigger failure than me. Math is done; I should have withdrawn when I could; now I'll have to use up one of my last two "no credit" options. Feminism is salvageable; will I salvage it? I missed last week; probably missed the deadline for my rewrite; but I can live with the B+; if I can make myself show up; and beg her to let me scrape it together...

I never saw such a person. Chopped my own feet off, hobbling around on scabbed-over stumps, and just as they look they're going to heal, rip the scabs right off. And instead of picking up the pieces and trying to graduate from this fucking government-(under)funded falling-apart ghetto school, I'm composing nauseating metaphors for my own self-destructive behaviour.

Also: eating a corn muffin.

I want to hurt myself? Why?

Why are you in Tavie's head? 9:50 AM | shower me with attention

Monday, December 03, 2001

I finally got a chance to watch the Facts of Life reunion movie that Steve taped for me and man, oh man, just like the show, it was goofy in a painfully nostalgiac way. The last scene in the movie has Blair, Tootie, Natalie, Mrs. G and their various love interests dancing to Devo's "Whit It". And there were not one, but two postmodern self-referential "we know we're a tv movie based on a tv show" moments. Not only that, but I spotted that reporter chick from Magnolia in one role, and "You Can't Do That On Television"/Brain Candy's Adam "Sign My Scar" Reid as Tootie's producer. Ho, ho, ho, that was some fun!

Also, since Amazon is being evil, no one is getting their Christmas presents this weekend. In fact, I may decide not to give anyone their Christmas presents at all, because some people are too hard to shop for. I'm falling out of the Christmas spirit rapidly, as this place looks like crap and I'm running out of cheer.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 10:40 PM | shower me with attention

I like reading about Gina's adventures in Israel... but they also make me sad.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 10:39 AM | shower me with attention

I was going to go to Mint Manor this weekend, but on Friday night my friend Steph called and said that she was getting a new kitten. She used to have a fat, beautiful silver cat named Satin that she had to give away three years ago when she and her mom moved to Staten Island, and so I was very glad to hear that she was ready for a new kitty. So I said, "OOH OOH OHH OOH OHH! CAN I COME CAN I COME CAN I COME SEE THE KITTTTYYYYYYYYYYYYYY?" Which is just what she wanted, and so Kirsten and I went over to Staten Island. On Sunday afternoon we all drove over to Brooklyn to pick up the kitten.

He's a little seal-point Siamese with big blue eyes and Steph named him Ivan (the Terrible.) But there's nothing terrible about him. He's the sweetest little baby you ever saw. Kirsten and I got to be kitty control in the back seat, and I was very selfish and kept him cuddled almost the whole time, only giving Kirsten a little chance to hold him. I'm rotten-greedy. Then Kirsten had to go meet mom for dinner at Red Lobster, for reasons utterly unfathomable to me, so we dropped her off at a subway in Brooklyn. The strange thing was that we drove right through the old neighbourhood that Kirsten and I used to live in, and I swear at one point we turned to the corner right by our old house and I thought, "Almost home". I hadn't seen it in years but it was still completely familiar. It jolted me to realize that that hadn't been "home" for over 11 years. Funny.

So then I had Ivan all to myself in the backseat and I cuddled him and kissed him and played with him and it was just all kitten-kitten-kitten. All weekend: kitten-kitten-kitten. Even this morning as Steph drove me to the ferry, we took him along so he wouldn't be lonesome in the apartment, and I held him in my arms all the way there. The little cute baby. I miss him. He's only six weeks old, little tiny soft thing with his brown face and blue eyes. Want to kiss.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 10:32 AM | shower me with attention

First I have to say something:

Goose speaks of the Best Thing About Christmas being in Hoboken, and, having been privileged enough to have seen it last year, I will fervently agree; it is a permanent new part of my Holiday Tour and I cannot wait to pay homage to it this year.

Now I have to go get my time sheet from last week signed, whereupon I will have to shuffle and blush as I explain that, yeah, I was out AGAIN on Friday, but I was really sick, damn these sinus infections (heh), which is actually true (except for the sinus infection part) but it FEELS false because the last two times I missed work there weren't a damn t'ing wrong wit' me, no sah.

And I spilled coffee all over my white shirt. And it's too warm in here to walk around with my jacket, so I just have to be the Spaz in the Coffee-Stained Shirt.

Then I have to print out some crap and update it. Then I have to come back and blog about my weekend with Steph's new kitten. Then I have to do more work. And some time among all this, Arnold will come and ask me where I was Friday and why I couldn't come to the conference call he asked me to come to. ("Damn these sinus infections...")

Why are you in Tavie's head? 9:19 AM | shower me with attention