tavie.com

I have the elevated-at-rest heartbeat of a Person Who Has Slept Way Too Much.

I can't take it anymore. I'm going to Mint Manor.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 9:21 PM | shower me with attention

I just got email from a 14-year-old Dave fan, sincerely consoling me for being a riple old 23 years of age.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 5:00 PM | shower me with attention

Pretty in Pink. Why, why, why, why, why, why, why doesn't she end up with Ducky?

That will always piss me off, for now and forever.

Oh, all those magnanimous Duckies of the world, painfully but lovingly handing over their Andies to the Andrew McCarthies because why would strange, off-beat, less-than-classically-beautiful people fall in love with other strange, off-beat, less-than-classically-beautiful people? Never happen. Never happen, I tell you.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 2:00 PM | shower me with attention

I was going to go to bed after the first set of M*A*S*Hes, but I got all caught up in All About My Mother. Wow, it was good. Rich.

And so we move from complex, emotional, symbolic expressions of the relationships between art and gender back to wacky hi-jinks and krazy kapers at the 4077.

I'm very glad that soon I'll have something besides tv to occupy my time.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 4:27 AM | shower me with attention

A small, crying cat. Peachskin between two teeth. Purple fingernails. Flannel pear sheets. Idleness. A bellyful of yogurt. Aspirations to pretention. Itchy eye. A list.

What haved you to show for this evening?

Why are you in Tavie's head? 12:14 AM | shower me with attention

Friday, August 30, 2002

According to emode's True Talent test:

Tavie, your true talent is abstract reasoning
Your ability to look at information abstractly implies that you have a rich imagination. Chances are, you're one of those rare people who can mix two unrelated ideas together to come up with a great new one. Most individuals aren't as skillful as you are at applying knowledge outside of its usual context.
Your combination of strategic thinking and creativity can be an incredible value in both business and social environments.

But if they think I'm paying them $14.95 to tell me what I should be when I grow up, their powers of reason are sorely lacking.

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

Why do I find out about these things a second too late?

I wish I was a string-puller.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 7:31 PM | shower me with attention

This is it. This is the third commenting system in as many weeks. I'm done. I ain't doin' no mo'. If this one doesn't work, god is saying I don't need the extra attention.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 4:29 PM | shower me with attention

I dreamed about a red-enamel pen with sooty, smoothly-flowing ink. Interpretations?

Why are you in Tavie's head? 4:08 PM | shower me with attention

I don't know how, but somehow my magical summer of fun has turned into the worst summer since the summer of '90. I don't know how that happened but all of a sudden a bunch of stuff that I thought would be there forever was gone.

Christmas is going to suck holy hellfire this year. It's going to be awful. I had a dream about it last night. It was awful.

Things that should seem happy, like younger friends embarking on exciting new phases of their lives, now seem like more notches on the Latrine Wall of Stuff That I've Lost This Summer.

There is one happy thing I can think to post, and that is the fact that M*A*S*H is on eight times a day. Eight is my lucky number. I have actually been spending my time lately reading message boards of other people talking about a show that hasn't made new episodes since I was in preschool. The show is on in the afternoon from 3-5 on FX, and then from 1-2 am and 4-5 am on FOX. And believe me when I say I've been catching all of the episodes lately.

Not for long now; school starts Tuesday. A blessing.

Still no job, but I haven't been terribly aggressive in my search. Not terribly. I am 99% lazy, after all.

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

Thursday, August 29, 2002

I had a very bad, bad, bad, bad, bad day wherein I did not get dressed and did something that neatly undid 5 months of healthy eating. Think junkie. Think crackhouse. Think Gary Busey but with crackers and chinese noodles. It was very bad. Very bad.

But I talked to me mummy and she gave me permission to throw out all of the bread, cookies, crackers and other various sugary crap in the house. And she brought me green grapes and two new pairs of pajama pants. So I am optimistic. Today never happened. Today never happened. Today never happened.

'Cause nobody wants to hear this tale
The plot is clich�, the jokes are stale
and baby we've all heard it all before.

(Aimee sings with this guy, John Doe, in this song here. I like it.)

Why are you in Tavie's head? 9:10 PM | shower me with attention

Took this test again to determine that I am now 99% lazy . That is an impressive score.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 6:03 PM | shower me with attention

Reason number million why I love WFUV: Lost in Space is their CD of the week, meaning tonight at 8pm ET they'll be playing it in its entirety. And you gotta kind of love that. (Stream it if you want. I probably will, seeing as I'm tired of listening to my sad-ass bootleg of it, and god knows my copy may never arrive in the mail and I will likely have to get off my ass and go to a record store and buy it. And I'd better get that CD single with it or I am going to throw a very big temper tantrum. Inside my head. Which is the same thing as this blog.)

Why are you in Tavie's head? 1:38 PM | shower me with attention

Thrills gum!

I'm a sucker for a throwaway KITH reference.

Someone give me one good reason I should get dressed today.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 1:31 PM | shower me with attention

Wednesday, August 28, 2002

{whine}

I want my ceeeeeee deeeeeee....

Why are you in Tavie's head? 9:34 PM | shower me with attention

Where the fuckety fucking fuck is my CD? It would've been faster for me to just buy it yesterday at a record store. Dammit, people!

Why are you in Tavie's head? 5:27 PM | shower me with attention

How cool is this image?

Why are you in Tavie's head? 5:08 PM | shower me with attention

I would love to see this play.

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

Tuesday, August 27, 2002

Lunch today with Aggie in honour of her 23rd birthday tomorrow. Is it midnight yet? I'll jump the gun:

Happy Birthday, Ags!

This is our eighteenth year together. She was my first Best Friend and I love her dearly. She's one of those who's pretty much in sister territory, you know, the kind of friend who's so omnipresent that you tend to take them for granted. To do this is to sell Erica short. The depth of my feeling for her is rarely expressed, and it ought to be more. It really ought. It's been a weird year for us both, great in some ways and terrible in some more ways. And I haven't seen her as much as I used to, as much as I'd like. And I miss her. She is my Aggie. I want to try and not take her for granted so much anymore. And when I want something, don't I often get it? Often I do.

The rest of today went as such: Kirsten and I met with my friend Tommy down at Pier 54 and we attended a free concert. For the price it was pretty good, although the middle act, one DJ Sasha, made me want to sort of kill myself. My feet were dying by the time Moby came on and I could only stand to stay through four or so of his songs. But they were good ones. I was especially taken with his way of saying, "Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou!" after each number.

Then I came home and that's it. Aimee's new CD is out today and I saw it at Virgin, and wondered where the hell my copy is, seeing as I ordered it off of her website weeks and weeks ago. I'm disgruntled. It's a fucking fabulous album-- perhaps her best yet, I'm uncertain, I'm torn, I hesitate to make that statement, but I'm so fucking taken with Lost in Space.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:43 PM | shower me with attention

I have an enormous desire to listen to my old, scratched Muppet Show record. The turntable is in my parents' room, and dusty. Too bad. I would really benefit from hearing Rowlf and Sam singing "Tit Willow".

Why are you in Tavie's head? 12:35 AM | shower me with attention

Monday, August 26, 2002

I'm not having luck with this comment stuff, am I? Although apparently this time it's a temporary problem that they're trying to fix. Yuh-huh.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 10:17 PM | shower me with attention

Ade taught me how to knit on double-pointed needles this weekend. The hope is that I will eventually be able to make a sock. However, she didn't have time to teach me that far into the lesson, so all I can knit right now is a tube. Either I will have to find out how to do the heel and toe part myself, or else I will be able to make a bunch of sleeves for my sister, and that's all.

Lily will not stop crying. I think she misses her sister.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 7:55 PM | shower me with attention

Back from the whirlwind weekend in Toronto with the goils to attend the first Hedwig and the Angry Inch Hed-head convention.

The trip: great. I only got really sad a couple times and my goils were there to hug me and distract me. My sister was, too. (Being a Hed-head herself, she was also in attendance.) Wandered around Toronto, visiting MAC stores and yarn shops. Called up the nerve to call up Jim Millan (remembered as the director of the KITH tours and various fabulous plays in Toronto, including The Chet Baker Story and the Toronto production of Hedwig) and ended up having a strange but fun lunch semi-with him. (He was eating at a sushi place with the cast of his current production, and since my group was so large we ended up scattered around the restaurant, with Jim visiting our tables cocktail-host-style and chatting with various groupings of us.)

The convention: Conventions are definitely not my scene-- except for anthro conventions, I usually enjoy those-- because of my Dad's Fan History and the tales of creepy geeks (as opposed to regular geeks, who I love.) This one started out slow and boring, badly lit and awkwardly set up. There were some terrible tribute bands. But eventually they got the little kid, Ben something-something who played young Hansel in the movie, up to do the "Freaks" dance, and then John Cameron Mitchell started answering questions from the audience, and those things were worth every minute. The man is so charming and hilarious. When he started asking for questions, I turned to Kitana and Tara on either side of me and whispered urgently, "Oh, I wish he'd do the Yorkshire accent from The Secret Garden! Oh, I hope someone asks him that! I wish I had the guts to ask him that!" I kept this up ad nauseum. I'm sure both of them wanted to smack me.

And then something amazing happened. Someone asked him about past roles he was proud of and he mentioned The Secret Garden. I started muttering, "Do the accent, do the accent, do the accent" --and heard myself getting louder and louder-- "do the accent, do the accent, do the accent"-- and suddenly I was shouting it-- "DO THE ACCENT!" And John heard me, and he looked at me, and smiled, and said in thick Yorkshire, "Hello there, Mary! I'm Martha's brother, Dickon!" And sang a snippet, "When a thing is wick, it has a life about it", and the crowd went wild, and I was ecstatic. So that, my friends, that was my favourite moment of the weekend. Even better than Lord Jim calling me back.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 5:41 PM | shower me with attention

Sunday, August 25, 2002

Keep as new, keep as new, keep as new.

There is oh, so much sleeping to be done. So much. Oh.

Keep as new, keep as new, keep as new.

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