tavie.com

I need more Jesus-y songs for my Sacrelicious Mix. Along the line of "Nailed" (Hedwig), "Lust for Christ" (El Vez) and "Peter Pumpkinhead" (XTC). Also regular old sacreligious songs ("Dear God", XTC) will do. Please advise.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 10:21 PM | shower me with attention

Ladies and gentlemen, we have CD-burning capabilities!!!

And why? Why? Because Gina is a gina-yus and figured out how to make my CD burner work with her computer.

Oh. Yeah. Baby.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 8:40 PM | shower me with attention

8. Dude, I am not addicted. I had to check my e-mail, that's all. I had time to kill. That's all. Now stop stalking me! Damn hipsters.

Did you make me number 8 on purpose because it's my favourite number?

She's in love with me.

No, I won't stop stalking you.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 7:41 PM | shower me with attention

Friday, March 22, 2002

Annie emailed me! Annie emailed me! You know, Annie. From junior high. She's so cool. Even though she lives in Minnesota now. Still. Can't take the cool from Annie.

Do I tend to put people on pedestals?

Yes I do.

Do they like it there?

Who cares.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 5:56 PM | shower me with attention

I ended up baking my Shriny Dink geese and listening to Magnetic Fields. Excellent lyrics.

Who smells a theme? Just me? Okay.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 4:47 PM | shower me with attention

I am really in the mood for some Chet Baker and Beethoven's (?) Pastoral Symphony. You know, that thing from Fantasia.

Times likes these, I really miss Napster, really a lot.

I am going to go listen to Pig and Lady again, the best mix CD ever. (Thank you very much.)

Why are you in Tavie's head? 3:31 PM | shower me with attention

My favourite word right now is poop.

Poooooooooooooooooooooooooop.

G'night evrabuddy!

Why are you in Tavie's head? 4:22 AM | shower me with attention

Someone is addicted! It reminds me of my first (only?) internet-cafe experience, in Australia... and that was long before this whole blogging nonsense started.

Sick. Sad. So?

Why are you in Tavie's head? 12:19 AM | shower me with attention

Thursday, March 21, 2002

Someone needs to design some sort of banner or button for those of us bloggers who are also synaesthetes. (I taste words, how are you?)

Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:44 PM | shower me with attention

Oh yes, thank you for returning her to me! So much to read, and so much free time to read it...

Now, Texas and Barcelona, send me back the rest of my bloggers, damn you.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:40 PM | shower me with attention

I gone done me some Roam, Roam, Roaming with erin today, and FINALLY gave her her Christmas and birthday presents, and had dinner at that Thai place by my school, and now I'm at Mint Manor and it's SPRING BREAK and I did NOT have my final today after all and I'll be seeing KIDS IN THE HALL before I have to go back to school again and, you know, life's a pretty sweet fruit.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:35 PM | shower me with attention

Oh, oh. I dreamed that I was in a high floor in a building that housed some sort of video arcade/disco kind of setup, and I was there with Erica and Steph and my sister, and one of the giant video screens burst into horrific flames and I looked around for Kirsten and she was asleep on the floor with Erica and Steph, wrapped in a blanket, so I just grabbed up Kirsten and ran down all the flights of stairs with her, leaving Erica and Steph behind.

I used to have a lot of nuclear holocaust/raging inferno nightmares and now that I feel my life settling back into lazier patterns, I wonder if the idle time is giving my brain license for these vivid dreams again? This is a warning sign.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 3:08 PM | shower me with attention

Un:

Hell YES you can do it, and I want to read some of your articles? Please?

Deux:

Oh go Jess!! And I love that a community of bloggers can rejoice with you. I love it.

Trois:

I think I may have a midterm in a few hours but I lost the folder with my syllabus and stuff so I can't be sure. Dagnabbit. I should study anyway, eh?

Why are you in Tavie's head? 3:05 PM | shower me with attention

Was flipping channels tonight with my mom and got engrossed in a PBS documentary about old lesbians. The old lesbians were very charismatic and well-spoken, and we fell in love with one named Christine. Anyhow, the exciting part was the animations between the sequences, the style of which was very familiar to me. I couldn't place it, however, until one of the cartoons depicted a moonlit beach. The moon, I realized with that delightful shock of recognition, was none other than Hedwig's "whole face" tattoo; the animator? Emily Hubley!

Hurrah for old lesbians and hurrah for Emily Hubley!

Why are you in Tavie's head? 1:09 AM | shower me with attention

Wednesday, March 20, 2002

Marvelous quote, Djin. "Playing small does not serve the world." Wonderful.

Today I woke up with an urge for Roam, Roam, Roaming. I haven't done any serious R,R,R'ing since Linn was here and I took her to the Cathedral that time. Roam, Roam, Roaming is something I learned from my friends Amy and Annie when�I was in grade 6. It is aimless wandering with a companion or companions with whom one can have meaningful and absorbing conversations. One follows one's feet and one's conversation with no end in sight for either, for the joy of the journey.

If anyone wants to do a little R,R,R'ing with me, drop me a line.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 4:04 PM | shower me with attention

Tuesday, March 19, 2002

I dreamed about Hoboken and its Queen. I dreamed I accidentally went to Hoboken on the PATH and instead of getting back on the right train, I decided to just wander the streets pretending to be a Hoboken hipster. My wanderings led me to a store that sold all manner of strange, cheap objects, and I stumbled across Goose going through the CD bins. She had a green jacket and an orange shirt and a brown knapsack. She was a little disturbed to see me there. I tried to explain to her that I was wandering around pretending to be a hipster, but she was convinced I was stalking her and escorted me back to the PATH station.

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

I am trying to work up the courage to call a therapist.

I actually don't have any referrals or anything. I may just pick one out of the phone book. Well, not the phone book. Maybe a search engine. Long as it's a woman and accepts my medical insurance.

What makes me think I can talk to a therapist when I never have been able to before?

Well, but why should that stop me? I can't very well spend the rest of my life tossing and turning and hating myself whenever my mind gets an idle minute, can I?

So, anyway, that's the current internal struggle.

Elsewise...

Thailand and Texas, return my bloggers to me.

Cheryl's niece is so cute. You should meet her. I wish I had a niece. I want to be someone's wacky Aunt Tavie. Oh, Lady Thug and I also watched The Osbournes and spotted Little Wood. I like the punky daughter. She's cute.

TO Steph has nine toes and no sense of smell! I have ten toes and no sense of smell. And we both love musicals. Soul sister.

Other soul sister.

Speaking of soul sisters, must get that birthday present already. Does anyone know how to say "Happy Birthday" in Swedish?

Speaking of soul sisters again, someone needs to blog.

Still haven't emailed Jess. What the fuck kind of friend am I?

Now babies, don't you panic.
By the light of the night it will all feel all right.

This is in my head currently. Not the whole song. Just those two lines.

My twinner and I watched half of Boogie Nights and then she got tired and went to bed. The question: did she go to her bed, or my bed? I sleep on the bottom bunk, you see, and sometimes she's too ~~lazy~~ tired to climb up to her own bed.

We shall see.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 3:47 AM | shower me with attention

Tonight in class we were discussing the sexual undertones in Gertrude Stein's ROAST BEEF and all I could think was, "Why are we talking about foooooooooood?"

And I almost giggled but I didn't because then I would have had to explain it, and what would I have said? "Oh, it's an inside joke from an online discussion forum about Dave Foley. See, one day we were talking about 'sandwiches', and..."

Yeah, it wouldn't have worked.

Anyway, this poem is amazing:

RHUBARB.

Rhubarb is susan not susan not seat in bunch toys not wild and laughable not in little places not in neglect and vegetable not in fold coal age not please.
Gertrude Stein

Why are you in Tavie's head? 1:19 AM | shower me with attention

Monday, March 18, 2002

How do I love baby jebus? Let me count the ways:

The greatest computer genius that ever lived sent me Aimee's cover of Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds.

OVOR emails me and confirms that, yes, Las Vegas is STILL on the schedule.

Finally deposited those checks.

Kicked more ass in my poetry class tonight.

Dave art feeding my eyes until my eyes are obese and start sweating at the slightest provocation.

Thank you, tiny deity. Thank you, baby jebus.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 8:52 PM | shower me with attention

I made a cameo in a Sarah C dream! What have you done today?

I was just looking in my address book to find out the exact date of Linn's birthday (it wasn't there. D'oh.) and I found this list. It appears to be from the '97 trip to Britain. It is cute:

Animals I've Seen in England
-limping dog named Hopalong

Sussex (E. Grimstead):
-sheep and lambs (also in Wales)
-cows
-goats
-Daisy the cow
-white horse near Pooh house

Hyde Park:
-2 swans, William and Mary
-cygnets
-pigeon in a tree
-wet terrier
-black bulldog
-6 ducklings
-dalmatioon
-squirrels
-black lab
-J.R. terrier
-cocker spaniels
-ducks
-Goldeneye duck
-lesser black-footed gull
-heron
-moor hen

On the bank of the Thames:
-Geese and their goslings
-lots of herons
-some blackbirds
-poodle

Train to Scotland:
-pigs
-pheasant

Edinburgh:
-greyhoud
-chihuahua

[drawing of a bird's head, "What bird is this???" scrawled next to it]

Boat:
-seagulls
-moray firth
-cormoran
-dolphins!

Loch Ness tour:
-black rooster

Dublin:
-Irish terrier
-deer
-Irish setter

Castle:
-huge crows

What possessed me to list animals I don't know, but I miss that girl. This girl doesn't list animals for no reason. Wha happen'?

Why are you in Tavie's head? 4:13 PM | shower me with attention

My sister just told me that Elijah Wood was in Paula Abdul's video "Forever Your Girl".

That is horrifying. Doubly so, because now that song is in my head.

Nevertheless, we both want to marry him right now.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 10:21 AM | shower me with attention

Sunday, March 17, 2002

I made dinner. A whole dinner all by myself and I didn't set the kitchen on fire or ruin it or anything. It was corned beef and boiled things. It was easy. I just boiled everything. Well, shut up, I'm not much of a cook.

Gina wouldn't let me nap all night. She forced me to stay awake. I was so very sleepy.

WHAT KIND OF A WORLD do we live in, where tired people cannot sleep?

What KIND of a WORLD?

Why are you in Tavie's head? 10:54 PM | shower me with attention

This one's fun. (Got it from Barb.)

Test Results

You think of yourself as being pale, sunny, warm, and urinelike.

Others think of you as being reptilian, cold-blooded, stubborn, and stinky.

Your relationships can be described as don't, have, one, and dammit.

When stressed, you feel depressed.

Take this test here.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 3:17 AM | shower me with attention

Crud.

I'd been trying all night to remember who was hosting SNL, but I couldn't, so Gina and I watched three hours of Trading Spaces instead (which was awesome.) Only after our marathon was over did she remember that it was Ian McKellan. Damn. I'd wanted to see that.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 2:57 AM | shower me with attention

Ach, 'tis a colourful city I live in, lads and lassies.

I wasted four hours of my life today taking a writing proficiency exam. It's a graduation requirement. I guess there was some sort of St. Patrick's Day parade today because the Armory, which is right next to my school, was hosting some sort of police-fest. There was a multitude of uniformed police officers and green-clad police fans, most with cans of beer and cigars in hand, milling about, taking up half of Lexington avenue. They seemed to be coppers from all over the country, 'cause I saw one of them point across the street at another group of policemen and shout, "Hey, it's the L.A. cops-- FAGGOTS!"

Eh?

And the exam was just as insulting as I'd feared. It turns out I was supposed to have registered for the exam ahead of time and collected the "study materials" to read and familiarize myself with beforehand. (The "study materials" consisted of an article on America's problems with conflict management and how differing cultures deal with conflict, or some such nonsense.) I was sent to see a girl who told me that since I hadn't registered beforehand, I could reschedule for tomorrow.

And waste another whole afternoon? Nuh-uh.

"Is there any way I can just take it now and get it over with?"

She stared at me like I was from Mars and then proceeded to explain to me, slowly, about how it was a graduation requirement that all CUNY students have to take, and it was a writing proficiency exam. And I said very slowly, "O-kay, can I please take it today?" Then she made me sign a form saying that I had declined to reschedule for a later date and was taking the exam without preparation.

Then I had to go back and take the damn thing. It was a two-part essay test, in which I had to draw connections between the lengthy "study materials" article and a shorter article in the exam booklet. So I dashed that sucker off, and then I had to sit there for two hours as the rest of the people in the room finished their exam. No, I could not go on to part two until the two hours were up. Nor could I read my book or play my Gameboy. (The proctors regarded my nodding, fidgeting form with some sympathy, I gather, as one of them tiptoed up to me and said I could go use the restroom if I wanted. I think I left a puff of dust.)

Thankfully, after I finished the second part of the exam I could leave, and that one only took fifteen minutes. What an excruciatingly dull and pointless excercise. If this is their idea of raising University standards, I honestly would hate to find out what the standards were like before.

On the subway train on the way home I saw someone who was either a performance artist or a crazy man. He was clean and neatly dressed, except for some horrifying purple sneakers, and didn't present the appearance of one of the mentally ill unfortunates that our city likes to dump out on the street. His entire demeanor, in fact, was entirely normal, until he began pacing in front of the subway doors and hissing at his companion, who happened to be invisible. It was really quite fascinating-- I couldn't understand why no one would look at him, as I really couldn't stop staring. It was quite a show. He would scowl at his reflection in the window and hiss, "Stop apologizing! Stop apologizing! I don't-- I DON'T WANT TO HEAR YOUR APOLOGY. I do not accept your apology. Stop talking. STOP TALKING MEANS STOP TALKING NOW. Sarah, no-- I do not-- what part do you not understand? Sarah! Sarah, STOP TALKING!" All of this in a phlegmy voice, almost devoid of any actual intonation, reminiscent of the work of the late Clarence "Ducky" Nash. He was Donald Duck with a sore throat and purple sneakers, this man.

I mean, he was terribly fascinating to me. I wanted to start applauding. I thought he must have a hidden camera or something on his person-- he could have been Matt Besser, if he wasn't so middle-aged and blond and balding. For his grande finale, right before he got off the train at 57th street, he uttered with sibilant loathing, "I do not understand your willful ignorance of the English language!"

As he stepped off the train I literally burst out laughing and had to clap my hand over my mouth.

I do not understand why my fellow passengers did not share my amusement. It was an authentically hilarious slice of city life.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 2:47 AM | shower me with attention