Tavie blogs i like:
amy
dave foley
mark mckinney
e.mail
archive
andrew
carl
barb cooking blog
boing boing
caroline
cartoon brew
chris
cityroom
consumerist
erin
gena/ deadly stealth frogs
gothamist
jim hill
kids in the hall lj
kithblog
matt k
mike t
nathan
post secret
rynn
sarah
sarah c
sean
tea rose
toby
tom
webcomics i read:
american elf
american stickman
elfquest
lolcats!
masque of the red death
the perry bible fellowship
toothpaste for dinner
ultrajoebot
xkcd
Other places to find me:
me on the tumblr
me on the flickr
me on the formspring
me on the twitter
me on the ravelry
me on the myspace
Subscribe in a reader
Kids in the Hall on Facebook
Tasty Morsels Bakery on Facebook
my 'currently-reading' shelf:
i want:
wish list
i've read:
goodreads list
Friday, November 30, 2007
Holiday events I probably won't be attending:
Bronx Zoolights. I did it once, almost a decade ago. I keep meaning to go again every year and keep... not. Will this be the year? Probably not. Who wants to drive me?
Aimee Mann's XMas Show returns to New York. I missed it last year, and I'll miss it again this year, as it falls on the same night as my company's holiday party.
Christmas Concert @ St John the Divine. Was pretty, went one year. Same night as Myers' "I'm Dreaming of a White Russian" soiree. That one has booze. That one wins.
Kiki and Herb: The Second Coming - A Christmas Concert. Can't afford.
The Nutcracker by NYC Ballet. Holiday tradition of my youth. Can't afford.
Make Me a Song: The Music of William Finn. Not Christmas-related at all, just another new show I can't afford.
And as usual, the lack of an El Vez Christmas show yet again disappoints me.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 5:24 PM | shower me with attention
Bronx Zoolights. I did it once, almost a decade ago. I keep meaning to go again every year and keep... not. Will this be the year? Probably not. Who wants to drive me?
Aimee Mann's XMas Show returns to New York. I missed it last year, and I'll miss it again this year, as it falls on the same night as my company's holiday party.
Christmas Concert @ St John the Divine. Was pretty, went one year. Same night as Myers' "I'm Dreaming of a White Russian" soiree. That one has booze. That one wins.
Kiki and Herb: The Second Coming - A Christmas Concert. Can't afford.
The Nutcracker by NYC Ballet. Holiday tradition of my youth. Can't afford.
Make Me a Song: The Music of William Finn. Not Christmas-related at all, just another new show I can't afford.
And as usual, the lack of an El Vez Christmas show yet again disappoints me.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 5:24 PM | shower me with attention
Thursday, November 29, 2007
I've mentioned my struggles with finding a new psychiatrist to prescribe the Gleemonex's that's been getting me out of bed for the last ten years. Ever since my company changed medical insurances, and it seems that no one accepts the new one, I've had my game-but-insistent-that-I-get-a-psychiatrist-to-do-it GP prescribing my pills. So, finally, finally, in desperation, I went to the insurance company's website and made an appointment with the first doctor that returned my phone call.
My appointment was today. It was on the Upper East Side, as 98% of the psychiatrists in NYC seem to be. I'd gone online and did a touch of research about this doctor; she had two negative reviews from patients who said she was a drug-pusher who insisted they were bipolar and only accepted ungodly-early morning appointments. However, I was encouraged when making the appointment; her receptionist asked me if I was interested in starting therapy or just have medication prescribed; I chose the latter with much relief, as talk therapy has never worked for me and makes me profoundly uncomfortable.
I arrived early for my 4:30 appointment and had a sandwich in a local luncheonette. Not a diner, not a cafe - a luncheonette. Oh, Upper East Side. You and your overpriced roast beef sandwiches. I'm absurdly comfortable on the UES; my alma mater is on 68th and Lex/Park, and old ladies in $2,000 sunglasses accompanied by tiny, blonde children in Baby Dior jumpers are a common sight for me.
I arrived ten minutes early and the first thing I noticed was the sheer volume and variety of pharmaceutical-company paraphernelia adorning the place. Everything seemed to be advertising some drug or the other. The second thing I noticed were several signs proclaiming in bold letters, "You must cancel your appointment no later than 3 days in advance. Any canceled appointments after 3 days will be charged the full cost of the visit, not covered by your insurance company, plus the co-pay and a $45 cancellation fee." Um, woah.
I spent the next 20 minutes filling out an extremely extensive questionnaire, on a Celexa clipboard with an Eli Lilli pen, that seemed to lean towards the everybody-is-bipolar attitude mentioned in the online reviews. Hm. Then I waited another 15 minutes. When I got up to use the restroom, the receptionists seemed to remember I was there, and one of them said, "Come, I've been looking for you." She ushered me into a tiny, brightly-painted, dimly-lit office where I sat in one of two chairs facing a desk and examined the extensive wall of pamphlets in drug-company plastic holders for the next five minutes.
Finally, Dr. L. appeared. She is a small, middle-aged dyed-blonde with a slight Northern-European accent. She questioned me for about 15 minutes along the usual lines, focusing on my immediate family and their psychiatric/medication histories. I recognized the bipolar-leaning questions and answered them honestly. (I am not bipolar.) She seemed satisfied and very pleased that I'm so well-established with my current medication. Then, the true weirdness.
She led me into a little tiny closet with a chair and a tv/vcr combo on a shelf. She handed me a clipboard and asked me to watch the video and check off the answers to the questions the video would ask me. Then she turned it on and left the closet.
The video consisted of the fine doctor herself, in front of a blue background, rambling on and on about "bipolar spectrum disorders". She never asked a direct question, so I just checked off the answers in a pattern that was both honest and not-remotely-bipolar-indicative. (I really am not - I'm a clinical depressive with borderline tendencies.)
The video was odd, you guys. She mentioned at least four times that "the optimal sleep schedule for a healthy lifestyle is 10 p.m. to 6 a.m. Even 11 p.m. to 7 a.m. is not as good as 10 to 6, and 12 to 8 is worst of all!" It was absolutely the worst nonsense ever. Then she had a whole segment about how it's perfectly safe to continue taking antidepressants during pregnancy. She's just wacko. Wacko.
However. She wrote me out a prescription for my stuff, made an appointment for two months from now, and wished me happy holidays.
And. She takes my insurance and will continue prescribing the medication that lets me live. If every session can be as efficient as the ending of this one, I will be perfectly happy. Even if I do have to be on the Upper East Side at 8 a.m. every two months.
And even if she is bat-shit loony.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 9:29 PM | shower me with attention
My appointment was today. It was on the Upper East Side, as 98% of the psychiatrists in NYC seem to be. I'd gone online and did a touch of research about this doctor; she had two negative reviews from patients who said she was a drug-pusher who insisted they were bipolar and only accepted ungodly-early morning appointments. However, I was encouraged when making the appointment; her receptionist asked me if I was interested in starting therapy or just have medication prescribed; I chose the latter with much relief, as talk therapy has never worked for me and makes me profoundly uncomfortable.
I arrived early for my 4:30 appointment and had a sandwich in a local luncheonette. Not a diner, not a cafe - a luncheonette. Oh, Upper East Side. You and your overpriced roast beef sandwiches. I'm absurdly comfortable on the UES; my alma mater is on 68th and Lex/Park, and old ladies in $2,000 sunglasses accompanied by tiny, blonde children in Baby Dior jumpers are a common sight for me.
I arrived ten minutes early and the first thing I noticed was the sheer volume and variety of pharmaceutical-company paraphernelia adorning the place. Everything seemed to be advertising some drug or the other. The second thing I noticed were several signs proclaiming in bold letters, "You must cancel your appointment no later than 3 days in advance. Any canceled appointments after 3 days will be charged the full cost of the visit, not covered by your insurance company, plus the co-pay and a $45 cancellation fee." Um, woah.
I spent the next 20 minutes filling out an extremely extensive questionnaire, on a Celexa clipboard with an Eli Lilli pen, that seemed to lean towards the everybody-is-bipolar attitude mentioned in the online reviews. Hm. Then I waited another 15 minutes. When I got up to use the restroom, the receptionists seemed to remember I was there, and one of them said, "Come, I've been looking for you." She ushered me into a tiny, brightly-painted, dimly-lit office where I sat in one of two chairs facing a desk and examined the extensive wall of pamphlets in drug-company plastic holders for the next five minutes.
Finally, Dr. L. appeared. She is a small, middle-aged dyed-blonde with a slight Northern-European accent. She questioned me for about 15 minutes along the usual lines, focusing on my immediate family and their psychiatric/medication histories. I recognized the bipolar-leaning questions and answered them honestly. (I am not bipolar.) She seemed satisfied and very pleased that I'm so well-established with my current medication. Then, the true weirdness.
She led me into a little tiny closet with a chair and a tv/vcr combo on a shelf. She handed me a clipboard and asked me to watch the video and check off the answers to the questions the video would ask me. Then she turned it on and left the closet.
The video consisted of the fine doctor herself, in front of a blue background, rambling on and on about "bipolar spectrum disorders". She never asked a direct question, so I just checked off the answers in a pattern that was both honest and not-remotely-bipolar-indicative. (I really am not - I'm a clinical depressive with borderline tendencies.)
The video was odd, you guys. She mentioned at least four times that "the optimal sleep schedule for a healthy lifestyle is 10 p.m. to 6 a.m. Even 11 p.m. to 7 a.m. is not as good as 10 to 6, and 12 to 8 is worst of all!" It was absolutely the worst nonsense ever. Then she had a whole segment about how it's perfectly safe to continue taking antidepressants during pregnancy. She's just wacko. Wacko.
However. She wrote me out a prescription for my stuff, made an appointment for two months from now, and wished me happy holidays.
And. She takes my insurance and will continue prescribing the medication that lets me live. If every session can be as efficient as the ending of this one, I will be perfectly happy. Even if I do have to be on the Upper East Side at 8 a.m. every two months.
And even if she is bat-shit loony.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 9:29 PM | shower me with attention
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
And now, some disconnected thoughts, courtesy of Benadryl™.
America's Top Model tonight made me want to quit watching the shower. Forever.
I can't stop sneezing.
I can't stop looking at people's fall coats. They're so neat and pretty. My favorite is my boss's black wool coat with white and red embroidery up and down the edges. So pretty. Everyone has a smart wool coat. I have a wool coat; it was once smart; I got it second-hand from a friend about 3 years ago (or 4, I can't remember.) So it's old. And the lining is torn. And there's a loose button that won't stay tight no matter how many times I resew it. And it's pretty pilled, and long strands of my hair are always stuck on it and it bunches funny in the middle of my chest. So it's a shabby old thing now. I still like it, but I can't help but stare at the pretty wool coats that everyone else seems to have and wishing I wasn't always blowing all my money onsoda pop and records rent and food and bills.
If I was rich and thin, this would be my fall coat. Or this; or maybe this.
I have some unfortunately thin, overpriced taste.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 10:58 PM | shower me with attention
America's Top Model tonight made me want to quit watching the shower. Forever.
I can't stop sneezing.
I can't stop looking at people's fall coats. They're so neat and pretty. My favorite is my boss's black wool coat with white and red embroidery up and down the edges. So pretty. Everyone has a smart wool coat. I have a wool coat; it was once smart; I got it second-hand from a friend about 3 years ago (or 4, I can't remember.) So it's old. And the lining is torn. And there's a loose button that won't stay tight no matter how many times I resew it. And it's pretty pilled, and long strands of my hair are always stuck on it and it bunches funny in the middle of my chest. So it's a shabby old thing now. I still like it, but I can't help but stare at the pretty wool coats that everyone else seems to have and wishing I wasn't always blowing all my money on
If I was rich and thin, this would be my fall coat. Or this; or maybe this.
I have some unfortunately thin, overpriced taste.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 10:58 PM | shower me with attention
Monday, November 26, 2007
My new phone arrived, is activated and charged. Number remains the same.
Yay!
Don't call me.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:03 PM | shower me with attention
Yay!
Don't call me.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:03 PM | shower me with attention
Friday, November 23, 2007
Happy birthday, Cheryl. I love you.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:59 PM | shower me with attention
Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:59 PM | shower me with attention
Thursday, November 22, 2007
I sincerely hope that whoever is reading this is spending today in the company of family, friends and/or loved ones, in person or virtually.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 1:05 PM | shower me with attention
Why are you in Tavie's head? 1:05 PM | shower me with attention
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
Joy, babies, rapture! Mom says my new phone will be here in 2 business days! (Monday?)
Huzzah! I've almost forgotten what it's like to be connected.
Tonight I follow Steph home from work for Thanksgiving in Staten Island. In a couple hours my parents are on a plane to Budapest. My aunt will be at a friend's house, and my sister, of course, in Kashiwazaki. But I'll think of them all when we see Santa at the end of the Macy's parade, for it means that Christmas will have begun.
Also: Pena gave me a pair of jeans that don't fit her. They're some weird juniors size, at least a size and a half smaller than I wear - they fit perfectly.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 3:14 PM | shower me with attention
Huzzah! I've almost forgotten what it's like to be connected.
Tonight I follow Steph home from work for Thanksgiving in Staten Island. In a couple hours my parents are on a plane to Budapest. My aunt will be at a friend's house, and my sister, of course, in Kashiwazaki. But I'll think of them all when we see Santa at the end of the Macy's parade, for it means that Christmas will have begun.
Also: Pena gave me a pair of jeans that don't fit her. They're some weird juniors size, at least a size and a half smaller than I wear - they fit perfectly.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 3:14 PM | shower me with attention
Monday, November 19, 2007
Did no one but Gina notice my substituting "Thanksgiving" for "Christmas" not once, but twice, below?
Irish don't have Thanksgivings, sillies.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 9:25 PM | shower me with attention
Irish don't have Thanksgivings, sillies.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 9:25 PM | shower me with attention
Sunday, November 18, 2007
I have a mystery for you all to solve.
About 3 months ago I took some pictures of myself with my (now dead) cell phone at the beach. At the time, I tried to upload them to my Flickr account but the transfer never went through.
My cell phone has been dead for the past few weeks and as far as I can remember, I never transferred the pictures to any other device.
All of a sudden, out of nowhere, two of them are on my Flickr page, showing an upload date of November 13. I know I didn't do that. Could the transfer just have taken... three months... to go through?
Whaaaaaaa....?
Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:13 PM | shower me with attention
About 3 months ago I took some pictures of myself with my (now dead) cell phone at the beach. At the time, I tried to upload them to my Flickr account but the transfer never went through.
My cell phone has been dead for the past few weeks and as far as I can remember, I never transferred the pictures to any other device.
All of a sudden, out of nowhere, two of them are on my Flickr page, showing an upload date of November 13. I know I didn't do that. Could the transfer just have taken... three months... to go through?
Whaaaaaaa....?
Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:13 PM | shower me with attention
How the HELL did I not know that Stephen Trask wrote the original score for the movie version of Dreamgirls?
I luff him.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:00 PM | shower me with attention
I luff him.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:00 PM | shower me with attention
My friend Bill showed me AIMFight.com, where you can see how popular you are with regards to Buddy Lists - it scores you based on how many people currently logged onto AIM/AOL have you on their buddy list, factoring their popularity into your final score.
So far I've been AIM-fighting almost everyone I can think of, and I win, win, win. A lot of people have me on their buddy lists.
Good thing I rarely use AIM anymore.
eta: sarah kills me dead, though. At this moment, I'm 1696 to her 3555. She is an internet goddess.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 8:05 PM | shower me with attention
So far I've been AIM-fighting almost everyone I can think of, and I win, win, win. A lot of people have me on their buddy lists.
Good thing I rarely use AIM anymore.
eta: sarah kills me dead, though. At this moment, I'm 1696 to her 3555. She is an internet goddess.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 8:05 PM | shower me with attention
Happy Pre-Throgsgrafen. I had a Thanksgiving dinner tonight with those members of my family that reside in the Western Hemisphere. The four of us gobbled my mom's excellent feast and planned for Christmas.
We've settled on this year's theme and menu: IrishThanksgiving, Gina's idea. I did some web research on Thanksgiving (we are none of us remotely Irish, you understand.) The traditions seem to revolve around boring turkey and ham and been-done plum pudding and fruitcake. I did some digging around for alternates and came up with a menu that will please us: Potato leek soup, roasted Irish lamb, colcannon, roasted root veggies and brussels sprouts. Dessert will be trickier; TJ thought of ice cream with Bailey's Irish cream drizzled on top, and that works for me. I can't abide fruitcake. Our Christmases aren't about authenticity, just "theme". My mom suggests this film as our entertainment, its Joycian gloominess balanced out by the usual fare.
As for today's turkey feast - oy. I fasted all day in preparation, and ate a fairly reasonable amount. My new nemesis is roasted fingerling potatoes. Mom did this thing with garlic and rock salt and... god... it was so good, you guys. So, so, good.
Parents are off to Budapest on Wednesday; Thursday I'll join the Apells for Thanksgiving Part Deux. I'm trying hard to eat wisely. Honest.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 7:52 PM | shower me with attention
We've settled on this year's theme and menu: Irish
As for today's turkey feast - oy. I fasted all day in preparation, and ate a fairly reasonable amount. My new nemesis is roasted fingerling potatoes. Mom did this thing with garlic and rock salt and... god... it was so good, you guys. So, so, good.
Parents are off to Budapest on Wednesday; Thursday I'll join the Apells for Thanksgiving Part Deux. I'm trying hard to eat wisely. Honest.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 7:52 PM | shower me with attention
Saturday, November 17, 2007
The Geek Hierarchy is fascinating and hilarious. It puts me in mind of something I witnessed last weekend in a comic book store into which I was dragged: a large group of people sitting around a VERY large collection of folding-tables, over which a mind-bogglingly impressive terrain, with houses, trees, soldiers, tanks and whatnot, was set out. I stared at them for at least 15 minutes but couldn't figure out what they were doing, or why it was fun.
At one point, a guy wandered into the shot and one of the "players" called out to him, "Hey, [so-and-so], join us!"
"Oh," the guy said, "but I don't have my forces with me!"
"It's okay, we've got plenty of forces!"
Forces, y'all. Forces.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 10:25 AM | shower me with attention
At one point, a guy wandered into the shot and one of the "players" called out to him, "Hey, [so-and-so], join us!"
"Oh," the guy said, "but I don't have my forces with me!"
"It's okay, we've got plenty of forces!"
Forces, y'all. Forces.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 10:25 AM | shower me with attention
I've been using labels as a lazy, vaguely snarky punctuation to all my blog posts. This has resulted in about a million fake labels generating, making publishing my damn blog take about a year every time. No more.
It's a bad habit. I will break myself of it.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 12:17 AM | shower me with attention
It's a bad habit. I will break myself of it.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 12:17 AM | shower me with attention
Friday, November 16, 2007
Lesson number one: Do not talk smack about people at work. Do not complain about people out loud, no matter how incompetent they are, no matter how much they refuse to do their job and expect you to do it even though they make twice as much as you and you have to explain how things work to them constantly. Do not complain about people out loud, because they will end up standing right behind you and hearing every word and then your day will be very, very awkward.
Lesson number two: No cell phone for you, not if your bill is past due.
Lesson number three: Nonfat frozen yogurt is 2 points a cup, and at the Comfort Diner they have chocolate peanut butter chip. This makes up for lessons one and two.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:09 PM | shower me with attention
Lesson number two: No cell phone for you, not if your bill is past due.
Lesson number three: Nonfat frozen yogurt is 2 points a cup, and at the Comfort Diner they have chocolate peanut butter chip. This makes up for lessons one and two.
Labels: today is finally over
Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:09 PM | shower me with attention
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
How excited am I about the new Project Runway season starting in 8 minutes?
Um, a lot?
Why are you in Tavie's head? 9:53 PM | shower me with attention
Um, a lot?
Labels: yep
Why are you in Tavie's head? 9:53 PM | shower me with attention
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
Pssst. Reload this page for the decorations.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:44 PM | shower me with attention
Labels: she's back and she's brought acorns
Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:44 PM | shower me with attention
The holidays are coming at me too fast. Someone get a net.
This Sunday is the first of two Thanksgiving dinners. This one is at my parents' house, since they'll be in Budapest on the actual holiday. On Thanksgiving itself, I get adopted by the Apells.
Oh, Throgsgrafen, you fiend. And right after that, I can no longer deny that the Christmas hoopla has begun. I'm in no way prepared for this.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:41 PM | shower me with attention
This Sunday is the first of two Thanksgiving dinners. This one is at my parents' house, since they'll be in Budapest on the actual holiday. On Thanksgiving itself, I get adopted by the Apells.
Oh, Throgsgrafen, you fiend. And right after that, I can no longer deny that the Christmas hoopla has begun. I'm in no way prepared for this.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:41 PM | shower me with attention
Sunday, November 11, 2007
I'm so proud of D. Her music blog, Soft Communication (to which I occasionally contribute), has been chosen by Hey! Nielsen and Billboard.com as one of the top Music Blogs in the U.S. in this contest.
Go, D, go.
In other news, it's cold out, and the leaves look really pretty upstate.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 10:14 PM | shower me with attention
Go, D, go.
In other news, it's cold out, and the leaves look really pretty upstate.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 10:14 PM | shower me with attention
Friday, November 09, 2007
Feed your FACE.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 6:16 PM | shower me with attention
Labels: guy incognito
Why are you in Tavie's head? 6:16 PM | shower me with attention
Thursday, November 08, 2007
First it was the cell phone. (I have been cell-phone free for several weeks now, due to my cell phone dying and "not being eligible for an upgrade until 11/16." "Upgrade" better mean "free upgrade".)
Now it's the internets. Our network went kaput last night with no explanation and we can't get it back.
I am slowly losing touch with the world. This is my next recourse.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 8:44 AM | shower me with attention
Now it's the internets. Our network went kaput last night with no explanation and we can't get it back.
I am slowly losing touch with the world. This is my next recourse.
Labels: i'll call him homer
Why are you in Tavie's head? 8:44 AM | shower me with attention
Sunday, November 04, 2007
Hurray! (Summary: Motion capture films are being ruled out as eligible for "Best Animated Feature" category at the Oscars.)
Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:42 PM | shower me with attention
Labels: geek trest
Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:42 PM | shower me with attention
Overnight, it is The Holiday Season. I'm not prepared. Money situation is not ideal this year, as last year, and I always get depressed when I can't get my gifts for people early. It's chilly out, but not cold enough to be Holidayish.
I did make it outside. I got my paper, and we walked to the supermarket and back. I got stuff done. I bought groceries. I sent out a reminder about our annual Secret Santa. I signed us up for our annual get-gifts-for-the-needy. I tidied the kitchen and scooped the poop. I played Sims.
Now I'm just sort of sitting here, half-watching Home for the Holidays and thinking about how I'm not ready for the Holidays.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 4:32 PM | shower me with attention
I did make it outside. I got my paper, and we walked to the supermarket and back. I got stuff done. I bought groceries. I sent out a reminder about our annual Secret Santa. I signed us up for our annual get-gifts-for-the-needy. I tidied the kitchen and scooped the poop. I played Sims.
Now I'm just sort of sitting here, half-watching Home for the Holidays and thinking about how I'm not ready for the Holidays.
Labels: inventory
Why are you in Tavie's head? 4:32 PM | shower me with attention
Saturday, November 03, 2007
Happy birthday, Best Aunt in the World! (I know you're reading this.)
Why are you in Tavie's head? 4:01 AM | shower me with attention
Labels: tante joan
Why are you in Tavie's head? 4:01 AM | shower me with attention
Steph, Mike and I went to see Across the Universe tonight. Steph had been dying to see it; I had been skeptical about the whole concept. Rightly so. I think.
There were a couple ways I could approach it. I could approach it as a Beatles fan; that would be fine, except I came to appreciate the Beatles relatively late in life, in my late teens, and my knowledge of their ouevre is limited compared to most of my friends. I own exactly two albums (thank you), not counting those orange and blue "Greatest Hits" deals. Basically, I feel that compared to most of my music-loving buddies, my familiarity with many of their songs is not quite up to snuff. Nevertheless, I am a fan. I can't not be. There's something undeniable about most of the songs.
I decided to approach it as a fan of musicals, knowing full well that it was a jukebox musical and that those almost universally suck.
It was, indeed, mostly cringe-worthily cheesy. Literal illustrations of lyrics must be done carefully. In a Broadway musical, they work, because they're directly supporting the story. In a music video, they never work. This movie felt far more like a music video than a Broadway musical.
The cast was pretty to look at, with pretty voices, and the auto-tune, if present, was subtle enough not to annoy me. That was a plus. The lead girl, Blondie McBlondson, sounded pretty in chorus but lame on her own. The lead guy, British McAccentson, was cute as hell, and his voice was pleasant to listen to.
The movie as a whole was beautiful to behold. But the stank of Cheez Whiz was all over it. You could dip a Ritz in this thing. The stank of "I am artsy, look how artsy my shot is! Artsy, artsy, artsy!" was everywhere.
Well, but: why do I like musicals? One reason is that I enjoy when songs are backed up by a story, some narrative that exists outside the actual song. It heightens the emotional impact. So having a story behind some of these oh-so-familiar songs could only increase the pleasure of listening to them, right? Hear something old in a new way?
It worked out that way... sometimes. And sometimes, it was just unbelievably trite, or kind of nauseatingly literal (...she's so heavy, sing the young soldiers as they stagger under the weight of the Statue of Liberty. I want you, screams Uncle Sam. Oh, shut up, it's driving me mad.)
I guess my problem is that the themes of the movie are so... Been Done (at least Hair had original songs) that there's not much point in even watching it. Says one part of me.
While the other part of me says, "But at least she tried something." And it wasn't Moulin Rouge-bad. I never felt the urge to walk out. To laugh, yes, and I did laugh, quite a lot. It kind of works as a comedy. (Except, ironically, when Eddie Izzard was on the screen - that was just, sorry, I love him, but it was too ridiculous to be tolerated. And by "ridiculous" I mean "kind of scary".)
Ultimately, I came out of it feeling pretty good. And also feeling silly for feeling good. Which is what musicals do. And as a musical, it almost kind of worked. The whole "I've Just Seen a Face" sequence made me feel happy. But maybe it's just because I really like that song.
Maybe that's why the movie didn't suck for me. It was real pretty, and maybe I just can't deny those damn songs.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 2:57 AM | shower me with attention
There were a couple ways I could approach it. I could approach it as a Beatles fan; that would be fine, except I came to appreciate the Beatles relatively late in life, in my late teens, and my knowledge of their ouevre is limited compared to most of my friends. I own exactly two albums (thank you), not counting those orange and blue "Greatest Hits" deals. Basically, I feel that compared to most of my music-loving buddies, my familiarity with many of their songs is not quite up to snuff. Nevertheless, I am a fan. I can't not be. There's something undeniable about most of the songs.
I decided to approach it as a fan of musicals, knowing full well that it was a jukebox musical and that those almost universally suck.
It was, indeed, mostly cringe-worthily cheesy. Literal illustrations of lyrics must be done carefully. In a Broadway musical, they work, because they're directly supporting the story. In a music video, they never work. This movie felt far more like a music video than a Broadway musical.
The cast was pretty to look at, with pretty voices, and the auto-tune, if present, was subtle enough not to annoy me. That was a plus. The lead girl, Blondie McBlondson, sounded pretty in chorus but lame on her own. The lead guy, British McAccentson, was cute as hell, and his voice was pleasant to listen to.
The movie as a whole was beautiful to behold. But the stank of Cheez Whiz was all over it. You could dip a Ritz in this thing. The stank of "I am artsy, look how artsy my shot is! Artsy, artsy, artsy!" was everywhere.
Well, but: why do I like musicals? One reason is that I enjoy when songs are backed up by a story, some narrative that exists outside the actual song. It heightens the emotional impact. So having a story behind some of these oh-so-familiar songs could only increase the pleasure of listening to them, right? Hear something old in a new way?
It worked out that way... sometimes. And sometimes, it was just unbelievably trite, or kind of nauseatingly literal (...she's so heavy, sing the young soldiers as they stagger under the weight of the Statue of Liberty. I want you, screams Uncle Sam. Oh, shut up, it's driving me mad.)
I guess my problem is that the themes of the movie are so... Been Done (at least Hair had original songs) that there's not much point in even watching it. Says one part of me.
While the other part of me says, "But at least she tried something." And it wasn't Moulin Rouge-bad. I never felt the urge to walk out. To laugh, yes, and I did laugh, quite a lot. It kind of works as a comedy. (Except, ironically, when Eddie Izzard was on the screen - that was just, sorry, I love him, but it was too ridiculous to be tolerated. And by "ridiculous" I mean "kind of scary".)
Ultimately, I came out of it feeling pretty good. And also feeling silly for feeling good. Which is what musicals do. And as a musical, it almost kind of worked. The whole "I've Just Seen a Face" sequence made me feel happy. But maybe it's just because I really like that song.
Maybe that's why the movie didn't suck for me. It was real pretty, and maybe I just can't deny those damn songs.
Labels: and there are puppets, of course
Why are you in Tavie's head? 2:57 AM | shower me with attention
Friday, November 02, 2007
Correction: Mr Moustache (formerly Dog-Faced-Boy) is now Guy Incognito, as per his awesome Halloween costume.
This is my final word on the matter.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 1:09 PM | shower me with attention
This is my final word on the matter.
Labels: aliases to protect the innocent
Why are you in Tavie's head? 1:09 PM | shower me with attention
Thursday, November 01, 2007
My new word is "blazam"BLADOW. I got it from Mr Moustache (formerly Dog-Faced Boy.)
Speaking of moustaches, are they moving beyond Hipster into Acceptable for the under-30 crowd? The seventies were never that back, right? Because my dad has a moustache , and he's 70. Anyone under 70 who has a moustache should still be a Hipster, right? Yes?
Why are you in Tavie's head? 10:56 PM | shower me with attention
Speaking of moustaches, are they moving beyond Hipster into Acceptable for the under-30 crowd? The seventies were never that back, right? Because my dad has a moustache , and he's 70. Anyone under 70 who has a moustache should still be a Hipster, right? Yes?
Labels: facial hair
Why are you in Tavie's head? 10:56 PM | shower me with attention
