tavie.com

A close friend and mentor showed me the mind-stretching film Powers of Ten by Charles and Ray Eames the first time I ever visited her at her home ("Fort Awesome"). I found it hypnotic, amazing. After relaying my reaction to her she told me it sounded like an incredible acid trip she once took. I was excited to discover, today (thanks to Boing Boing, of course) that this film is available (for a limited time, apparently) in Realplayer format online.

I want to own it, though, and watch it on a large, clear screen.

I have updated my Amazon wishlist. Go buy me a present. (Hey! Why isn't the Peaceful Planet Aquarium currently available?)

Why are you in Tavie's head? 6:33 PM | shower me with attention

I'm so heavily into Alan Alda now that on his recommendation I have joined this distributed computing project about protein-folding. This is as science-oriented as I get, ever. Downloading a screensaver: the extent of my participation in the scientific community.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 5:18 PM | shower me with attention

Happy birthday, Cybermom. I miss you. You'd be proud of me, I think.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 3:39 PM | shower me with attention

Out in the rain tonight to practice socializing with strangers. Sister's friend's birthday, drinks with sister's friends friends. From bar to restaurant, from whiskey to calimari, I was gabby and loopy and laffy and daffy. Me likey.

Came home turned on tv. Profile of Randy Newman. "Please sing Dixie Flyer," I said. "Would you sing Dixie Flyer?" the man on tv asked Randy. I have magical powers!

I love this one. This is the one where everyone has the flu except Hawkeye.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 4:52 AM | shower me with attention

Friday, October 11, 2002

Is it safe?

Tell me what "it" is and I'll tell you if it's safe.

Is it safe?

Yes, it's very safe, it's so safe you wouldn't believe it.

Is it safe?

(Don't mind me, I'm just torturing myself while I wait for my dad to make me a dental appointment. Oil of cloves, anyone?)

Why are you in Tavie's head? 4:54 PM | shower me with attention

Ow ow ow ow ow ow ow.

It's not fair. I don't even eat sugar and I have a painful cavity in my upper left molar.

Ow ow ow ow ow ow ow.

I guess raw lemons as a snack has its drawbacks.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 4:25 PM | shower me with attention

Why doesn't Sam see Carla as a sexual being? And yet he condescendingly calls her "sweetheart" all the time?

Okay, enough with the quotation marks, already.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 2:09 AM | shower me with attention

I don't think I've ever had "a night on the town". I don't think I even know what "a night on the town" means. It sounds like it should mean that the city buys my drinks, but I really doubt that's it.

I don't know how much I'd like "a night on the town".

I think I'm a "square".

And other "outdated phrases in quotation marks".

This entry resembles the Chris Farley character, Matt Brauer. The disgusting one with the finger quotes.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 2:08 AM | shower me with attention

Thursday, October 10, 2002

God damn it.

I was in such a GOOD mood when I left art class tonight. Drew better than I'd ever drawn. The guy next to me who does the most brilliant things with light and shadow that I've ever seen by an amateur stopped me after class to tell me that he thought I was a really good artist and that he wishes he could use line like I did. I said I wished I could use shadow like he did. It was all very wonderful. And everyone's drawings posted on the wall were brilliant tonight, and mine was the first one pointed out. I was in such a GOOD mood.

So why did I have to go and lose my $60 Metrocard? God dammit? This is not the first one I've lost. Thought I had a handle on that whole losing-the-expensive-Metrocards thing. And then when I get to the subway, poof. It gone.

Why am I so stupid is what I want to know? It's going to cost most of my tiny first paycheck (I only worked 10 hours this week) to replace it.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 9:41 PM | shower me with attention

In the computer lab at school, waiting for art class time. Very sleepy. Hope I don't go face down into the charcoal.

Despite my excellent first day, had the jitters while trying to fall asleep last night. Didn't get much. Coupled with the lack of sleep the previous eve, it was extremely difficult to wake up this morn. Luckily, no work tomorrow, so I can snooze to my heart's content. I can sleep with the fishes, like Luca Brasi. (Last night my mom and I tried to make up a song about Luca Brasi sleeping with the fishes, but couldn't come up with any good rhymes. Finally I got away with a lame, "Luca Brasi loves to snore/ with all the little albacore". If my mom gets any cuter, by the way, they're going to have to pass some kind of law.)

Today was fun, too. Lots of filing, which I don't really mind, and lots of playing with new book jackets for upcoming titles. They smell so nice and fresh and look so smooth and shiny. And some of these titles are to die for. Big Boss (boss of my Immediate, or Lady Boss, for purposes of this terribly subtle and not terribly anonymous blog) said that I can browse through some of the collections some time if I want. I had to suck in the drool forming in the corners of my mouth.

And I found the coffee and soda machines, praise Jebus.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 5:07 PM | shower me with attention

Wednesday, October 09, 2002

Gina says:

Are you going for that Octavia thing again or did you tell them it's Tavie?

CRAP!!!!!! I did it AGAIN!!!!!

How do I fix this? I may be working here for a LONG TIME. Why am I too wimpy to establish myself as Tavie right off the bat???

It doesn't help that everybody compliments me on my name. It's so pretty. It feels rude after that to say, "Yeah, but call me Tavie."

GAH!!!

Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:19 PM | shower me with attention

How do you handle all this adulation, or can't you live without it? -Peter Jennings to Jon Stewart

That just made me laugh.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:16 PM | shower me with attention

Hey, I finally got around to asking my mom. Turns out, we're both Jewish. Her mother's Jewish, so she's Jewish, so I'm Jewish. Both of my parents are Jewish.

This is sort of fascinating in an offhand way. The most fascinating part is that I never got around to asking until now.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 9:14 PM | shower me with attention

This book rules. I am buying it.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 8:33 PM | shower me with attention

Two-- no, three-- exciting developments today. All involve books, authors or publishing.

1. A favourite childbook picture book of my sister's and mine was called Sonya's Mommy Works. Lousy link, but click it and check out the name of the author. Or I'll just tell you: It written and photographed by Arlene Alda! Yes! Alan's wife! I made this discovery last night while reading my new-used book, The Last Days of M*A*S*H. It was terribly exciting. I wish I still had Sonya. I really used to love that book. I used to make my mommy put the banana stickers on my nose like Sonya's mommy did.

2. Today at work (!) I was given the pleasantly mindless task of going through old company catalogues and collecting information on paperbacks. In doing so, I got to drool over quite a few exciting titles. (I wonder if there's an employee discount?) One of the author's names gave me a start, as I'm SURE it was the mother of one of my only friends in high school, who left after freshman year because her family was moving to Arizona. The publisher? U of Arizona Press. The subject of the book was art history; this same friend once got me "backstage" into a restoration room at The Metropolitan Museum of Art because her mom had connections. Eh? Eh? So, Judy Wolfthal, do a name search on yourself one day. I'm SURE that was your mom!

3. Work! It was hardly scary at all! The people were nice and friendly, and my boss in particular explained every little thing to me (phew!) and set me to a very unintimidating task that filled the rest of my day. I get to choose my own hours (yay!) and I am determined to become friends with the friendly guy in the mailroom because I think his name is Steve Stewart, and I think it would be cool to have two friends named Steve Stewart. Plus, he was very friendly. When I left for class he asked me how my first day went and everything. I like that. (Now, I hope HE doesn't do a name search. There may be tons of Steve Stewarts out there, but there aren't many Octavia Phillipses.)

Tomorrow, I will find out where the coffee is kept. I treated myself to a grande latte from Starbuck's this morning, but that can't continue.

Also: I got my credits transferred today! Finally! I am so productive! I'd like to go to sleep now, but first: a page on Diebenkorn and then: The West Wing. I'm Busy the Bee.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 6:46 PM | shower me with attention

Tuesday, October 08, 2002

I am nervous about tomorrow. I have never done this precise sort of office slavery before, although I have done some and usually adapt. I hope they do not ask me to do things I can't figure out how to do.

It ain't that deep, it ain't that deep.

I hate new situations. I hate being new. I hate meeting new people. They give me Irritable Bowel Syndrome or something.

It ain't that deep, it ain't that deep.

It's just a damned part-time job. It ain't that deep.

I found a mantra, by the way. A clear-the-head relaxation phrase with no emotional associations. It worked like a charm last night. The word is: Ottumwa.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 10:26 PM | shower me with attention

El Vez in Hoboken on Dec 9. I am so there, and so is she. (I'm not even attempting the Bowery Ballroom show on Dec. 6, because: 1. I hate the Bowery Ballroom and 2. I have Aimee tickets for that night.)

Viva El Vez!

Why are you in Tavie's head? 4:52 PM | shower me with attention

Aw, crap. Don't play this game. It's so pointless but so satisfying.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 1:44 PM | shower me with attention

I wish he was my girlfriend.

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

Monday, October 07, 2002

On the subject of dreams, had that nightmare again that we've been neglecting an additional turtle all these years of owning Progo, and suddenly discover him hidden in the tank, ravenous and near death. This time the Other Turtle attacked Progo and almost killed him.

Why do I keep dreaming that Progo is two malnourished, unhealthy turtles? I will explore this:

I am, in waking life, constantly wracked with guilt that I do not give my turtle enough attention in the form of a balanced diet (which he refuses to eat), a large enough swimming area (he only has a dish barely big enough for him to soak in) or ample space to run around (I don't take him out of his 30-gallon-sized tank nearly as often as I should, and when I do it's usually just to run around the bathtub.)

I am, in fact, generally concerned that I am a horrible person for subjecting this poor creature to such a lifestyle, and yet can't bear the thought of finding an alternate home for him (a mythical Turtle Farm where poor city turtles are given a chance to frolic in open fields? A Fresh Air Fund, Herpetological Chapter?)

These feelings of guilt often manifest themselves in the form of dreams in which Progo dies, or is injured as a direct result of my mishandling him. Sometimes I drop him and he breaks. These dreams almost always involve me screaming in helpless horror as my sister or my mother make the necessary emergency arrangements.

Occasionally I have dreams about breaking or mishandling a human baby. Could these babies be stand-ins for my turtle?

I have, in the years since Progo joined our household, had a particular recurring nightmare, the theme of which is that I discover that hidden in Progo's tank all these years is an extra turtle or turtles who are in worse shape than Progo. Thoroughly neglected, starving, often with overgrown beaks and a tendency towards snapping, these poor creatures are near death.

Now:

Are these "extra" turtles simply an extension of my guilt about my existing pet? Has my subconscious split him into more than one so that I may feel the enormity of my wrongdoing? Or, conversely, is this symbolic overstatement of my failed responsibility an attempt on the part of my subconscious to prove that I am exagerrated in my feelings of guilt?

I really should be reading Shaw's Major Barbara right now.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:01 PM | shower me with attention

Got a possible thread going on the Iroquoian "secret wishes of the soul" dream thing. Anyone ever read any Jung? (I haven't, but I have read Robertson Davies' The Manticore, which made me want to read Jung, if that counts at all.)

Why are you in Tavie's head? 10:44 PM | shower me with attention

I think that instead of getting to see the much-anticipated-by-me 30th Anniversary M*A*S*H special tonight, I'm going to have to watch Dubya declare war on Iraq.

Muthafucka.

My mom is really cute when she says, "Luca Brasi sleeps with the fishes."

Especially when she says it over and over, sing-song. "Luca Brasi sleeps with the fishes, Luca Brasi sleeps with the fishes..."

Why are you in Tavie's head? 7:50 PM | shower me with attention

Please please remind me to write a page about Richard Diebenkorn before Thursday. This is exactly the kind of assignment I would forget to do. I am going to take a nap now.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 5:38 PM | shower me with attention

Where are they handing out rocket science degrees? I'm ready to collect mine. I left Mint Manor this afternoon with an unlimited one-month Metrocard, a PATH card containing one fare, and four dollars to pay for a video I was returning. I returned the video, paid the due, and descended into the subway to discover that my Metrocard had expired. After inserting every credit and ATM card that I have fruitlessly into the machine, rummaging my pockets and handbag (57�!), and briefly considering and discarding the idea of jumping the turnstile, defeat was admitted and I hauled my ghetto ass into a taxi to be bailed out by my sister for more than ten times the cost of a subway ride.

I called back __ __ Press as soon as I got home. I start Wednesday.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 2:16 PM | shower me with attention

Looks like I got that job. I'm almost afraid to call them back, because that means I'd have to, you know... start working and stuff.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:53 AM | shower me with attention

Happy birthday to my spiritual doppelganger! We're practically the same person, so it almost feels like it's my birthday, too.

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

Sunday, October 06, 2002

Benadryl is a great invention. If I ever have kids, I'm naming them Ben and Adryl. Or perhaps Benna and Darrill.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:41 PM | shower me with attention

Thought of Kevin McDonald, and for some reason, tried to picture all of the Kids in the Hall having sex. Not with each other. With other people. Oh, except Bruce, because --WHY? -- and it really isn't much of a challenge now, is it? Realized I could never, ever, ever imagine Kevin on top of anyone. Ever. A true sub.

All I have to do to imagine Kevin McDonald on top of someone is to think of Hotel La Rut. But now I'm imaging all of the Kids in the Hall having sex... yes, with each other.

It's kind of disturbing me.

I DID dream the other night that Dave was my age and that we were driving in a convertible-- I was driving-- racing down a sunny coast. Then we were in a hotel overlooking the sea, and Dave turned into a hideous, enormous, yellow-and-red H.R. Pufnstuf-esque creature (a lot like this); but he was still Dave, and he leaned me back onto the balcony and kissed me passionately with his pointy and somehow sickly-sweet-tasting monster tongue and told me he'd be right back. I awoke missing the taste of it. It was a wonderful, wonderful dream. I wish I could have it again. It was my first Foley dream in ages.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 2:23 AM | shower me with attention

Happy Sarah C day one, all. Go off, be hip and sassy. Live in a new country for a time. Wear groovy glasses. Free yo' ever-lovin' spirit. Wish I could!

Why are you in Tavie's head? 2:12 AM | shower me with attention