tavie.com

Fucking spoiler! Fucking spoiler! Fucking spoiler! I ruined it for myself and I haven't even SEEN it yet! It's not even being repeated until next Tuesday!

Fucking Youtube! Fucking Comcast DVR! FUCKING SPOILER!

(But my favourite won!!!!)

Why are you in Tavie's head? 10:24 PM | shower me with attention

Our goil pals amy and Djin are here on a last-minute, whirlwind trip to see Hugh Laurie tape his episode of Inside the Actors Studio. Of course, we all went, and Hugh was just as dreeeeeeeamy as you would expect. My heart is all pitter-pat. I'm completely twitterpated. It was 3 hours in a room with those eyes, that accent, that delicious... Hugh Laurie-ness.

And James Lipton is just good-old fashioned pompous pretentious entertainment. Good god.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 1:32 AM | shower me with attention

Wednesday, May 17, 2006

Ohmigod:

I wish they had the whole cartoon though. I never saw this cheesy, chopped-up "music video" but it ruins the vibe to actually see Paul McCartney's face. This song works best as part of a unified whole.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 8:59 PM | shower me with attention

Finish this song and win a prize.

Who's got the sweetest disposition?
One guess, that's who?
Who never never starts an argument?
Who never shows a bit of temperment?
Who's never wrong but always right?
Who'd never dream of starting a fight?
Who gets stuck with all the bad luck?
No one but _______________

FILL IN THE BLANK!

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

Tuesday, May 16, 2006

One Long Island Iced Tea makes me drrrrrrrrunk!

When I'm drrrrrrrrrrrrrunk I...

LOSE MY KARAOKE VIRGINITY!

It's the perfect place: a little-known bar under the Lemon Grass off University. Two other girls plus the bartender are the only people present. The girls are really, really drunk already. The menu is thick with showtunes, rich like the loins of a dragon ribboned with fat and the opulence of buffalo... dung*. I suck furiously at my drink until Gina thrusts the mike in my hands. I reluctantly agree to be Glinda in "Defying Gravity" because she has like three lines. Then I brazenly start singing loudly and obnoxiously off of all of Gina's lines. We laugh like hyenas. All the way home. I get the hiccups.

Good times.

*What show am I paraphrasing?

Why are you in Tavie's head? 10:59 PM | shower me with attention

Monday, May 15, 2006

If anyone is planning to go see Poseidon, check out my two favourite moments:

1. The Big Reveal Moment when we find out Richard Dreyfuss is ***GAY*** at the beginning of the movie. He's on his cell phone, turns his head, and his diamond earring sparkles at us seductively. He immediately hangs up the phone and says dramatically, "He's leaving me!"

2. Moment when The Dillon* (starring as Two Dimensional Sleazy Guy, complete with tux and pencil moustache) makes a very obvious reference to Kurt Russell Swayze's role as Monkey Boy on Gilligan's Island. (I am the only one in my group who caught this, and yet I have never seen that episode of Gilliigan's Island, so I have no idea why I knew that, but IMDB confirms it.)

Man, that was a cheesy movie.

*Not Matt Dillon but clearly practically the same person. Brother, maybe?

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

Sunday, May 14, 2006

Did you know there's a Queens Zoo? Me neither. But that's where Mom wanted to go for Mother's Day, in between the scrumptious brunch and seven-course dinner she prepared for us (courtesy of Fresh Direct.) So we went, and saw their modest but charming collection of animals native to North and South America.

Do you think this sign is something that anyone needs to see? I don't. But I'm grateful that the bison themselves weren't acting it out.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:45 PM | shower me with attention

Hi Mom. I know you're reading this. Thanks for pretending you don't.

Since you are, I'll take this opportunity to say that you're still my very favourite person in the whole world. I was thinking the other day about how I'd feel about you if you weren't my mom, just trying to think of you as a woman in the world living her life, doing stuff, apart from being my mom.

You showed me Monty Python, Eddie Izzard, Mr Bean, Fry and Laurie, you watched Kids in the Hall with me before I knew I loved them. You showed me most of the movies I love and took me to most of the Broadway musicals I'm now obsessed with. I started looking over your shoulder as you did the Times crossword and now it's one of my favourite parts of the week (and I am WAY better at it than you are!) You took me to Disney World when I was 3 and every year since. Sometimes more often. And once when I decided that I needed to go to Disney World as soon as possible, two weeks later, you and I were there.

You took me to Rome, Hawaii, Brussels, Amsterdam, Paris, London, Australia, Tokyo, the Caribbean, all over the U.S. and Canada, and Mexico for ten minutes that one time we were in San Diego. You taught me how to read. (This is the best thing you ever gave me.) When I was in the hospital you visited me every single day. When I dropped out of high school you got me help. You take care of Dad. You bought me the computer I'm typing on. You housed me for 25 years. You gave me everything. Just so you can see how it's hard for me to divorce the idea of you as My Mom from the idea of you as just this person in the world.

But I was thinking about it and, know what? I think that you're just very cool. You have really good taste in comedy. Mark is your favourite Kid in the Hall. That shows excellent taste.

You're an Anglophile. You get why I like Tea in Cups. And Alan Rickman, Hugh Laurie, Michael Palin, Tim Curry, David Bowie, Stephen Fry and other middle-aged British men.

You spill all over yourself. That's very cute. I do too. But when you do it it's cute. You're very, very cute. You have a surprisingly risque sense of humour. I love it that you can still shock and apall me.

You have gorgeous, endless hair that, if you'll notice, I covet so badly that I have grown mine in imitation of yours and, like you, refuse to get a haircut. You're unkempt, like me. (I'm not doing that in imitation of you, it's just something we have in common.)

You're a witty, expressive writer, even though all I ever see you write is email. I think you should write more. You have a tin ear. I love that you sing along loudly to things you know despite this fact. That's also very cute. You're out of touch with popular music. Me too.

You get shit done when it needs to get done. I admire that a lot. You have a great sense of direction and are comfortable in foreign cities. I admire that, too.

You're just all around very admirable. I'm positive that you and I would be friends anyway, even if you weren't my mom. Even despite the fact that I asked you to stop reading my blog. You're also nosy. But that's just because you want to keep up with us. I know that. I don't condone it, but I understand it. There are worse things you could be. (There are worse things I could do...: I love that when I visited last weekend, you put on Grease-- not because it's a musical and I was visiting, but because you're a big nerd and you love musicals, too.)

Anyway, since you're reading this despite my request, I thought I'd take the opportunity to let you know these things. You're one of my best friends and I am damn lucky. Happy Mother's Day.

Now stop reading this.

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

Happy birthday, Kit. We love you.

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