tavie.com

I did NOT see the finale of America's Next Top Model yet, and if you spoil it for me, you and I will no longer be friends.

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

Wednesday, December 12, 2007

My mom is extraordinary.

Take today. She got us last minute tickets for her and I to see the revival of A Chorus Line, a show I've wanted to see since I was a kid and used to listen to her scratchy record of the Original Broadway Cast. I'd almost forgotten, I was having such a rotten day at work. Such a rotten, bitter, stinky, dissatisfied-with-life week. And then, after work, I had to go grab a lonesome fast-food dinner and pick up the tickets and kill an hour waiting for her, which I did in Times Square, which I hate, mostly picking through books at the Virgin Megastore. And then she finally arrived and we followed the usher, and the usher led us to the second row, orchestra. Row B. Right in front of stage left.

I love the second row. I do. Some people hate it, and I'm used to seeing shows from the back (cheap seats), but my eyes are not so good lately and squinting at the blurry figures from the back row gives me a headache. Whereas, from the front, I can be right up the actors' noses and really feel the live-theatre experience. I've only gotten to sit that close at a handful of shows (I can count them: The Secret Garden, Parade, Urinetown, Into the Woods @ Stratford...)

So that was brilliant. The show was fantastic. Then we went to Starbuck's and I had my nonfat-no-whip-decaf-tall peppermint mocha. Then, when I got home, just moments ago, there was a package waiting for me. From my mom. She'd read my recent laments about the gorgeous sweater coats at Anthropologie, which I can neither afford nor fit into, and she went online and found me a lovely sweater coat that actually, you know, fits me.

I love you, Mom. Thanks.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:39 PM | shower me with attention

Tuesday, December 11, 2007

What?

Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:12 PM | shower me with attention

Monday, December 10, 2007

Firstly: Happy birthday, Aunt Barbara!

Secondly: Playboy found me! Argh! See this blog post. In fact, I'll cut-and-paste:

Tuesday, May 11, 2004
Ewwwww, why?

Why, four years after I ordered one issue of Playboy which contained an interview with my favourite singer, on a credit card that doesn't even exist anymore, does that publication continue to send me free issues of its magazine? Every few months another one shows up with my name on it. Do they think I subscribed? Is it a computer error? A free promotion to get me to subscribe? Did someone buy me a secret subscription? Is this more of the Campaign to Make Everyone Think Tavie is Gay?

So that was in May 2004.

It is now December, 2007. I got a Playboy in the mail today.

They found my "new" address (3 years after I moved) and are still sending me random free issues.

Because I ordered. One. Issue. Seven years ago.

Hef. Stop stalking me. Please.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 7:27 PM | shower me with attention