tavie.com

If words were people, most on this list would give you the once over with a third martini in hand while chattering on about nothing.

Wow. Just, wow.

Listen, I've been thinking about it, and would you write my biography? I don't mean if/when I become famous and successful, I mean, right now? Thanks.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 2:20 AM | shower me with attention

My mom is big on "theme" evenings. When we went to see Flower Drum Song a few weeks ago we dined, if you'll recall, at the Pan-Asian playground that is Ruby Foo's. Tonight we ate at Ulrika's, a charming little Swedish restaurant on 60th between Park and Lex, and then took the crosstown bus to Lincoln Center where we saw the magnificent New York City Opera production of A Little Night Music. (That is not an opera, for you philistines out there, but, rather, Stephen Sondheim's first successful musical.) Oh, it was delicious. I had recently begun to take a real interest in that musical (see here-- and, by the way, why the hell don't post-specific links work for me? Someone solve this, please!) and Santa Claus gave me the Original Cast Recording for Christmas. I've listened to it some, but it hasn't been an obsessive relationship like those I had with Hedwig or Godspell. But I occasionally listen to the CD at work, and it's a marvelous show. So I was just familiar enough with the songs to night to be enthralled by them, but not sick of them (except, of course, of "Send in the Clowns", but name one person you know who isn't sick of that song.)

How do you not love a musical with the lyrics:

Now as the sweet imbecilities tumble so lavishly
into her lap
I am presented with two possibilities: A, I could ravish her,
B, I could nap.

I could eat those with a spoon.

Four things added to my enjoyment:

1. Jeremy Irons as Frederik. Superb. And Claire Bloom as Madame, not too shabby either-- she was just Hermione Gingoldesque (Gingoldesque, a phrase I am now coining-- everyone use it) to delight the ear but not enough to seem obviously derivative.

2. NYCO is where we went to see The Nutcracker every Christmas when I was a small child. Tonight after the show was over my mum pulled me down the hallway and we both took turns drinking "Nutcracker water" from the traditional drinking fountain outside the third ring.

3. Sweden, Sweden, Sweden. The song "A Weekend in the Country" contains the lyrics,

A weekend in the country,
smelling jasmine...

Småland! The jasmine outside Linn's window! Smelling jasmine-- I can rarely smell anything, but when Linn pulled the branch of jasmine down to my face and I inhaled, well, I could smell that!

4. Going to the theatre with my mum. That's one of Our Things That We Do Together. And it was so nice to do that when, in the show, Desiree comes home after being on tour and Fredrika runs to her mother and they're hugging and they missed each other so much, I got a little choked up, 'cause I was there with my mum. And you know what Frederika sings in the movie version of "The Glamorous Life" (which is actually, in my opinion, a much better version of the song and my favorite song from the movie version, fancy that, it isn't even in the play!):

Ordinary mothers merely see their children all year,
which is nothing, I hear,
But it does interfere with the glamorous . . .

I love my ordinary mother. Also, she bought me a glass of champagne at intermission, and I adore champagne.

I wish I didn't have so much homework to do.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 1:41 AM | shower me with attention

Thursday, March 06, 2003

I rule at archaeology. I'm the next Indiana Jones.

Evolve.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 8:19 PM | shower me with attention

Depressing: not only is it too late for me to apply as a visiting student to study Swedish at the Royal Academy of Privileged People, but even if it weren't too late, and by some miracle my application were accepted, there's no way on god's holy green earth I could ever afford to go at $3,000 a credit. This is how much college costs. Reality fucking sucks.

I was advised by the mater to see if any of the other CUNY schools offer it. They do not, not a single one. Although at CCNY you can learn Swahili and at Brooklyn College you can learn Hatian Creole. Isn't that nice.

The only language I'm remotely interested in learning isn't available to me. Financial realities limiting academic achievement.

They say they're trying to phase out the middle class. We are evolving (check it out!) into a country with Very Rich and Very Poor people and no in-between. Guess which side I'll be on?

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

Wow wow wow!

Elfquest is evolving before our very eyes! (See what I did there?)

This is big news. Big, geeky news.

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

This is the language course I want to take. It's being taught next fall, Mondays and Wednesdays from 12-2.

Unfortunately, it's being taught at Columbia.

And, FUCK! The deadline for Visiting Student applications was March 1!

Evolve.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 10:12 AM | shower me with attention

I'm going to say "evolve" in every post today.

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

When I was little and Asti used to babysit the unholy triumvirate that was myself, my sister and her little brother Adam, the three of us used to think she was Madonna. I mean, we would seriously get them confused in conversation. This is when she had very short, bleached hair and lots of jewelry (although in retrospect, she didn't dress at all like Madonna-- Asti was much more punk than disco princess).

At any rate, I am glad to see that she has continued evolving along Madonna lines, because, if you count the "bloody"'s in this post, you'll see that Asti has turned British... just like Madonna.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 9:52 AM | shower me with attention

There are some seriously obese snowflakes plopping out of the sky onto the streets of my fair city right now. Sixth avenue is all huge chain retail stores and slush.

My head and giant ponytail turned completely white, but I did not feel a thing: this is the magic of pelts. Why ever did we evolve them away?

Why are you in Tavie's head? 9:43 AM | shower me with attention

audblog audio post

Oh, that's charming.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 12:10 AM | shower me with attention

...lemme tell you the movies we saw at our last HMF (horror movie fest) so that you don't send them in as suggestions...

...4. Some old black and white one I don't remember the name- What was it again Tavie? The one that scared both you and Kate?...

The Innocents, I think it was called. Deborah Kerr. I fell asleep in the middle but only for a few minutes. It was very late. Damn, that was a fun night.

5. Friday the 13th (here's the funny story I mentioned before- we had wanted to rent Nightmare on Elm Street, but accidentally got this one. Hey, it's an honest mistake)

Remember, we didn't actually watch Friday the 13th because you said it was crap.

Recently Steph forced me to watch Halloween H20. It wasn't at all scary or even gory. I think FX cut out all the gross parts.

Horror movies, man.

Am I blogging in lieu of email? How fun! Anyone have a favourite horror movie they think we should add to the list?

Why are you in Tavie's head? 12:04 AM | shower me with attention

Wednesday, March 05, 2003

We're having cheap Chinese for dinner.

How sick I am of cheap Chinese.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 10:07 PM | shower me with attention

Four episodes of Kids in the Hall is on-- season five, which I haven't seen in ages-- and I don't have to get up for work tomorrow.

Life's a pretty sweet fruit.

Foley dressed up like Isabella Rossellini is a pretty sweet fruit.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 2:56 AM | shower me with attention

Tuesday, March 04, 2003

Ha ha ha, Seth Green is in It! I love that movie!

Shut up. It's my favourite cheezy horror movie.

Ha ha ha! Now I have to watch it again.

Beep-beep, Richie!

Why are you in Tavie's head? 7:26 PM | shower me with attention

I love Andrew's blog, so full of uninhibited angst with subsequent self-deprecation, but, dude, that template is so overused.

I am hereby officially holding a Design Andrew A New Blog Template contest. He's a 19-year-old goth scifi geek with a hot Renaissance-painting girlfriend and an unhealthy knowledge of cheezy B-movies from the 80's. Winner picks their prize (within my means; meaning, I'll dub you something good if you're KITH-y-- and I got good-- or I'll knit you something if you're not, something like that.)

And yes, I'm fully aware that no one's gonna take me up on this.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 6:54 PM | shower me with attention

That test was easy.

I'm a good studier!

(Jinx?)

Why are you in Tavie's head? 6:47 PM | shower me with attention

I've taken off the Tour of Duty dogtags for the first time in almost a year.

Wot made you do it, guv'nah, you might be askin'?

When I was seven, I was given a piece of jewelry by a boy. It was the first time a boy ever gave me such a romantic gift. (The boy was Adam, brother of these two, who was at that time married to me as per a ceremony that we held daily when we were in kindy-garten.) It was a faceted red jewel in the shape of a heart, on a silver chain. Ooh, Kirsten was so jealous. I thought this the most beautiful treasure in the world and wore it often. Both the necklace and the memory of it were eventually lost, but I remembered it last night.

Wot made your be remembrin' it, guv'nah, you might be askin'?

Me mum is occasionally given gifts by little old landladies whom she counsels as part of her job at the Housing Department. She's allowed to keep the gifts if they're worth under a certain amount of money. Last night she brought home a necklace, identical to the one Adam gave me long ago. (She didn't remember that one; she brought it home because ruby is our birthstone and she thought we'd like it. Since it's certainly not an actual ruby, I think this is kosher.)

So the dogtags are now hanging on a key ring on the zipper of my purse, and a heart around my throat as a rememberance of my earliest (and virtually sole) experience with romance.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 4:55 PM | shower me with attention

You are so smart, no? You seenk you can take me, ah?

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

I have a test today. That wasn't bullshit. It's on European Socialism. I mean, really: I'm not European. I don't plan on being European. So who gives a crap if they're Socialists?

I have a test today. It's on hominid evolution and early lifeways of archaiac peoples. I have the usual lack of pre-test jitters, despite the fact that I couldn't give you a time frame for, say, the Pleistocene Epoch if you paid me. (3 million years ago until 12,000 years ago, let's call it.)

I bet I'd get a lot more memorized if Oz were my tutor...

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

I just fixed the gap in the shoulder seam.

Now my day can continue.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 10:14 AM | shower me with attention

I just noticed a gap in the shoulder seam.

This is going to bother me all day.

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

I am wearing a sweater that I knitted myself.

I am wearing a sweater that I knitted myself.

I am wearing a sweater that I KNITTED MYSELF!

And there's no one awake to see!!!

Why are you in Tavie's head? 12:52 AM | shower me with attention

You just couldn't resist, could you! I left myself signed in at Blogger thinking that you were such a rare updater of your own blog...

I am pleased to note your careful attention to punctuation, capitalization and spelling. A good impersonator takes care of these details. You are indeed a devious soul!

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

Monday, March 03, 2003

Dearest Tavie,
One really should not give me this kind of opportunity....

Why are you in Tavie's head? 8:44 PM | shower me with attention

And please welcome Andrew, who is Asti's brother. Andrew is reminded that if he does not update his blog, he will be taken off the list, as will the rest of you slackers. You know who you are, Cheryl and Mike and Steph and other people. My blogroll is getting fuller of non-updaters than updaters.

Gee, I'm strict.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 7:30 PM | shower me with attention

Let's say I buy just a replacement LCD screen for my ibook. Does anyone know how to install it? Because a lot of the cost seems to be in the installation process itself. What I need are some handy geeks who will work for free, or knitted goods.

Addendum: Turns out, Tekserve will install it for $90. So if I find a screen that costs less thatn $450 ($550 being the cheapest replace-and-install I've found so far), it's worth it.

To trust ebay, or not to trust ebay...

Why are you in Tavie's head? 4:31 PM | shower me with attention

If y'all don't mind, would someone do me a favour? I was just reading over my "smart" collection, and I would like to make it a permanent hyperlink on my sidebar yonder:

<---

So, could someone please clean this up for me, fancy up the html and make the colours match the rest of my site? I'd do it myself, but then it'd be ugly and besides that I'm too lazy. Just clean it up for me, eh?

Thanks.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 3:40 PM | shower me with attention

Excellent.

That song's been in my head since he died. (Thanks, Boing Boing.)

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

Sarah Vowell is wonderful. I highly recommend The Partly-Cloudy Patriot, which was lent by erin several weeks ago and which I finally started last night, beginning with the essay on Al Gore, nerds in popular culture and Buffy, and then skipping back to the beginning. This woman has the kind of brain I wish I had, is living the kind of life I wish I led.

How wonderful it must be to be an Essayist for a living. Don't we all-- "we all" meaning people who are roughly my age and share roughly my tastes-- partly revere people like her and like Sedaris because they are able to articulate our conceptions of our culture so well, and be funny and make a living from it, to boot? Become successful based on their observations? And don't-- admit it-- don't some of us in the blogosphere secretly fancy ourselves to be amateur Essayists? "I don't write," we insist, "I just blog." Okay.
But man, do I wish I had some witty observations that I could transform into publishable gold.

The problem with it is that a blog is not a shortcut to Fame and Fortune. To be a successful Essayist, you have to pay your dues. You have to get a degree in Journalism or Media or Communications or English, and you have to get crappy jobs at magazines and newspapers, and write a whole bunch of dumb movie reviews and articles that are assigned to you, for years and years. Depressing, isn' it-- the fact that you have to actually work to attain success? Most of us don't have the mettle, nor the talent.
I know I don't.

(I do know people
who may be well on their way, if they so chose such a path. I envy them. The best I can hope for is a mention in one of their essays. Don't forget me... I had faith in you when you were starting out.)

Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:14 AM | shower me with attention

I am thirsty and all we have is red wine and ruby-red grapefruit juice. And tap water.

I'm drinking the juice but it's not slaking my thirst.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 1:28 AM | shower me with attention

I cheated and had Diet Vanilla Coke today. That has caffeine. That must be why I'm awake now. Crap. Gotta play by the rules.

I've finished knitting my sweater! It is now awkwardly stretched out under a damp towel atop my large canvas portfolio, left over from last semester's art class. It was the largest available flat surface I could find in this crowded apartment. I should've left it at Mint Manor to block and seam next week, but I can't wait that long. I want my sweater, I want it now.

I studied some for my archaeology test but I can't keep any basic dates or site names in my head. Not even general time frames. Stupid Australopithicus afarensis and africanus and robustus, followed by stupid Homo habilis and stupid Homo erectus, followed by stupid archaic Homo sapiens and Homo sapiens sapiens, how I hate you. How I hate us all.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 1:25 AM | shower me with attention

Sunday, March 02, 2003

Isn't Homo erectus the dirtiest name?

Okay. Now an informal poll, because I'm confused. I was sitting on the tufon next to erin and all of a sudden she said, "You're going to have to put on socks because I can't stand looking at your bare feet." Naturally, I became offended, but she explained that they weren't ugly feet or anything, she just can't stand looking at anyone's feet. She hates feet. She has a feet problem.

I have perfectly nice feet, by the way.

I have known for some time that Gina has the same problem. She says that both her brother-in-law and her friend Evelyn are similarly disturbed by feet; they find them disgusting and, I quote, "Can't handle them". They "don't even like looking at (their) own feet".

What the fuck is this? I have never heard of this. And I asked them about it, like, are they sexualizing feet and that's why it disturbs them to see their friends' feet? But they maintain that it's not a "foot fetish" thing, they just hate feet. And they can barely talk about it except to say, "I hate feet, I can't stand feet."

What the fuck? So, does anyone else have a problem with feet, and if so, can they explain this to me?

Why are you in Tavie's head? 12:02 AM | shower me with attention