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Thursday, July 12, 2007
Kathy invited me to go with her to an advanced screening of Hairspray.
The cons:
1. John Travolta. I had steeled myself for The Fat Suit, and eventually got something close to used to it. It turned out to be not nearly as horrifying as the man's singing. He was trying desperately to stay in his mealy-mouthed faux-Southern "character" voice, and the result wasn't even bad enough to be good, the way Harvey Fierstein's voice is; it was weak, inaudible at times, and wrenched me right out of every song that he had to sing in. The worst miscasting I've ever seen.
2. It was a preview screening, and thus filled with hard-core fans (and their boyfriends.) Many of the hard-core fans of this musical are preteen girls. Two of these sat directly behind me. I would have been charmed by their enthusiasm, were it not so loud and constant and shrill. Screaming every single time Zac whatshisname was on screen has resulted in the further hastening of my growing deafness. I had to restrain myself from slapping them.
3. A couple of great songs were cut. Yes, this always happens in a screen adaptation of a stage musical. Still, I missed them.
4. The theatre was packed, and Kathy and I missed the entire first song from being on line at the concession stand. I will see the movie again. Which leads me to...
The pros:
1. Everything else about the film. Feel-good movie of the summer (behind Rataouille, in a class of its own.) Nikki Blonsky is adorable. Didn't even hate Amanda Bynes (didn't love her either, but she served.) Allison Janney, although woefully underused, owned every scene she was in. Queen Latifah, although too young for the role, is Queen Latifah. Christopher Walken is Christopher Walken. Seeing him make hungry eyes at Travolta in a fat suit qualifies him for some sort of Oscar.
It's a fun movie musical that is somehow not ruined by the horror of John Travolta. It will bear repeat viewing, and DVD-owning. It makes me want to go buy a lemon chiffon gown and ask a boy to the prom.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 10:46 PM | shower me with attention
The cons:
1. John Travolta. I had steeled myself for The Fat Suit, and eventually got something close to used to it. It turned out to be not nearly as horrifying as the man's singing. He was trying desperately to stay in his mealy-mouthed faux-Southern "character" voice, and the result wasn't even bad enough to be good, the way Harvey Fierstein's voice is; it was weak, inaudible at times, and wrenched me right out of every song that he had to sing in. The worst miscasting I've ever seen.
2. It was a preview screening, and thus filled with hard-core fans (and their boyfriends.) Many of the hard-core fans of this musical are preteen girls. Two of these sat directly behind me. I would have been charmed by their enthusiasm, were it not so loud and constant and shrill. Screaming every single time Zac whatshisname was on screen has resulted in the further hastening of my growing deafness. I had to restrain myself from slapping them.
3. A couple of great songs were cut. Yes, this always happens in a screen adaptation of a stage musical. Still, I missed them.
4. The theatre was packed, and Kathy and I missed the entire first song from being on line at the concession stand. I will see the movie again. Which leads me to...
The pros:
1. Everything else about the film. Feel-good movie of the summer (behind Rataouille, in a class of its own.) Nikki Blonsky is adorable. Didn't even hate Amanda Bynes (didn't love her either, but she served.) Allison Janney, although woefully underused, owned every scene she was in. Queen Latifah, although too young for the role, is Queen Latifah. Christopher Walken is Christopher Walken. Seeing him make hungry eyes at Travolta in a fat suit qualifies him for some sort of Oscar.
It's a fun movie musical that is somehow not ruined by the horror of John Travolta. It will bear repeat viewing, and DVD-owning. It makes me want to go buy a lemon chiffon gown and ask a boy to the prom.
Labels: you can't stop the movie from sucking john travolta
Why are you in Tavie's head? 10:46 PM | shower me with attention
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
People pay attention. I really love that. Brando and I had been discussing our mutual love of The Chipmunk Adventure recently, and today I found it wrapped on my desk with a note, "Happy birthday Tavie!" My boss found a card that came as close as possible to saying "your face" on it. My other boss carved a watermelon into the shape of a swan and filled it with fruit salad. She had the whole department sneak up behind me while I was on the phone, and they stood there for the longest time because it takes me forever to notice anything, so I was banging around my desk and shutting off my computer accidentally and blithering to an account manager and all the while the whole lot was standing behind me, grinning patiently and waiting for me to notice them.
I went with my family (which includes Ms. Steph A.) to my favorite Sezchuan place (the one with the really weird and exotic foods) and Tante Joan showered me lavishly with gifts.
And people I haven't heard from (nor contacted, for I am bad) in far too long reached out to me today. Ms. Peņa left a note on the bathroom mirror for me. Someone in another department who I never thought liked me at all called me just to say happy birthday. Stuff like that made it a special day.
And, you know, it's not so bad. As J pointed out, 28 has an "8" in it, and that's my favorite number.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:08 PM | shower me with attention
I went with my family (which includes Ms. Steph A.) to my favorite Sezchuan place (the one with the really weird and exotic foods) and Tante Joan showered me lavishly with gifts.
And people I haven't heard from (nor contacted, for I am bad) in far too long reached out to me today. Ms. Peņa left a note on the bathroom mirror for me. Someone in another department who I never thought liked me at all called me just to say happy birthday. Stuff like that made it a special day.
And, you know, it's not so bad. As J pointed out, 28 has an "8" in it, and that's my favorite number.
Labels: little lamb little lamb I wonder how old I am
Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:08 PM | shower me with attention
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
I called my sister the second I got out of work. I was planning to call her in the morning but I got another present from her in the mail today and I wanted to be obnoxious and wake her up at 7:15 in the morning. I also wanted to say, "Ha ha, you're 28 now and I'm still only 27 for the next 16 hours! HA HA!"
Why are you in Tavie's head? 8:35 PM | shower me with attention
Labels: happy birthday in Japan
Why are you in Tavie's head? 8:35 PM | shower me with attention
Sunday, July 08, 2007
We had two grandmothers. They weren't the active sort of grandmothers. They were pretty old and both pretty infirm most of the time I knew them. I loved them a lot, but I never really knew what it was to have one of those "active" grandmas that would go out and play with you and bake with you and stuff like that.
Except for Mrs. Blake. Mrs. Blake was my aunt's best friend's mother. She was like a second mom to Tante Joan; they were that kind of close, that kind of important, because Ang and TJ are friends the way Steph and I (and Steph and Kirsten) are - more family than friends, more sisters than anything. TJ and Ang have been friends for 40 years. So Mrs. Blake was very special. She was the active grandma. She was at my parents' wedding, she held and played with Kirsten and me as babies and growing up she sent us presents every Christmas. We only saw her a couple times a year, mostly at Christmas, to do our traditional cookie-baking. We saw her at other times in the year too, once in awhile, because she lived in the same neighborhood as Tante Joan in Westchester. They liked to go outlet shopping at Woodbury Commons; sometimes we went, too.
When my grandmothers died, I didn't go to their funerals. Grandma Eva died when we were 10. Grandma Jean died when we were 16. Kirsten went to her funeral, but I did not. I made a decision not to. It was very hard to see her in the hospital, the last time I saw her, and I didn't want to remember her like that any more. I know it sounds strange and maybe selfish. But it was my way of honoring her and to me it made sense. I stayed home by myself and I poured water on Dad's hands out on the street when he came back from the funeral.
This is all to say that I grew up a little today in a strange, small little way when I went to Mrs. Blake's wake. It was my first. It was open casket, which was a tiny shock to my system. Mrs. Blake had an identical twin sister, which was also a tiny shock. Aunt Mae even had the same soft speaking voice as her sister.
I was glad to be there and see Ang and Sable and be with Tante Joan and remember Mrs Blake. There were beautiful pictures from her life of her and her family and friends, of which she had many. There was even a picture of me at the age of three, sitting on Mrs Blake's lap in front of a Christmas tree.
Right when we got up to leave, Aunt Mae got up and knelt at her sister's casket. And suddenly I was crying, and I rushed to hug everyone goodbye and went to stand at the door to leave. It sounds very personal and maybe I shouldn't share it here, but it was the fact of one twin. One twin is the saddest thing I can think of. And it made me miss my sister very much, and it made me sad for Aunt Mae very much.
I won't ever forget Mrs. Blake because one of my earliest memories in life is of playing with her on a jungle gym outside Ang's house. I learned more about her life today than I ever knew, and I only wish I had known it in time to tell her how amazing and courageous I think she was.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 10:48 PM | shower me with attention
Except for Mrs. Blake. Mrs. Blake was my aunt's best friend's mother. She was like a second mom to Tante Joan; they were that kind of close, that kind of important, because Ang and TJ are friends the way Steph and I (and Steph and Kirsten) are - more family than friends, more sisters than anything. TJ and Ang have been friends for 40 years. So Mrs. Blake was very special. She was the active grandma. She was at my parents' wedding, she held and played with Kirsten and me as babies and growing up she sent us presents every Christmas. We only saw her a couple times a year, mostly at Christmas, to do our traditional cookie-baking. We saw her at other times in the year too, once in awhile, because she lived in the same neighborhood as Tante Joan in Westchester. They liked to go outlet shopping at Woodbury Commons; sometimes we went, too.
When my grandmothers died, I didn't go to their funerals. Grandma Eva died when we were 10. Grandma Jean died when we were 16. Kirsten went to her funeral, but I did not. I made a decision not to. It was very hard to see her in the hospital, the last time I saw her, and I didn't want to remember her like that any more. I know it sounds strange and maybe selfish. But it was my way of honoring her and to me it made sense. I stayed home by myself and I poured water on Dad's hands out on the street when he came back from the funeral.
This is all to say that I grew up a little today in a strange, small little way when I went to Mrs. Blake's wake. It was my first. It was open casket, which was a tiny shock to my system. Mrs. Blake had an identical twin sister, which was also a tiny shock. Aunt Mae even had the same soft speaking voice as her sister.
I was glad to be there and see Ang and Sable and be with Tante Joan and remember Mrs Blake. There were beautiful pictures from her life of her and her family and friends, of which she had many. There was even a picture of me at the age of three, sitting on Mrs Blake's lap in front of a Christmas tree.
Right when we got up to leave, Aunt Mae got up and knelt at her sister's casket. And suddenly I was crying, and I rushed to hug everyone goodbye and went to stand at the door to leave. It sounds very personal and maybe I shouldn't share it here, but it was the fact of one twin. One twin is the saddest thing I can think of. And it made me miss my sister very much, and it made me sad for Aunt Mae very much.
I won't ever forget Mrs. Blake because one of my earliest memories in life is of playing with her on a jungle gym outside Ang's house. I learned more about her life today than I ever knew, and I only wish I had known it in time to tell her how amazing and courageous I think she was.
Labels: Requiescat in pacem
Why are you in Tavie's head? 10:48 PM | shower me with attention
