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
Thursday, February 28, 2008
Every time I see two different movies starring the same actor on two different channels at the same time, I think it's that person's birthday.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 9:55 PM | shower me with attention
Why are you in Tavie's head? 9:55 PM | shower me with attention
Oh hell, I'll post it here too. Why not? My blog is practically a KITH blog anyway. :P
Ahem:
FIRST TOUR '08 TICKETS ARE ONSALE NOW! The first show is in Merrillville, Indiana.
Thanks to Broadway_whore at KITH Livejournal for nosing out this information:
April 4th, tickets are $37, tix go on sale Saturday, march 1st at noon!
Official link: http://www.starplazatheatre.com/files/events.shtml
HUZZAH!
Why are you in Tavie's head? 10:03 AM | shower me with attention
Ahem:
FIRST TOUR '08 TICKETS ARE ONSALE NOW! The first show is in Merrillville, Indiana.
Thanks to Broadway_whore at KITH Livejournal for nosing out this information:
April 4th, tickets are $37, tix go on sale Saturday, march 1st at noon!
Official link: http://www.starplazatheatre.com/files/events.shtml
HUZZAH!
Why are you in Tavie's head? 10:03 AM | shower me with attention
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
The sky is peeing.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 12:22 AM | shower me with attention
Why are you in Tavie's head? 12:22 AM | shower me with attention
Monday, February 25, 2008
Uncle Tom's videos of Epcot in 1985 are seriously blowing my mind. Especially this one. Because, because... 2:45 or so in, you see a line of children in front of a bluescreen background. I am not one of those children; my sister and Adam are. They're the two little moppets in red, third and fourth from the left. I am standing off-camera, watching the proceedings. I am too shy to participate. This is, to be precise, the film of this memory I blogged about in 2002. Yes, this is the very incident I wrote about in this post.
I'm going to actually quote myself here because my post-specific links don't really work, for some reason:
This, no longer around, was the site of what I realized today, coming home on the PATH, was a pivotal moment in my life. It's perhaps the single strongest memory I have of being a child. I don't really need to put it down here since I've always had it, but I guess I will anyway because Kirsten is taking forever to put her goddamn makeup on.
It was on maybe our second trip to Disney World, so we were four years old. We were in EPCOT, and Kirsten wanted to be one of the kids in Dreamfinder's School of Drama, an interactive exhibit at the Imagination pavilion, wherein children lined up in front of a blue screen on a black line painted in the carpet, and, in the video monitors in front of them, watched themselves be inserted into various pre-taped "adventures". At the beginning of each new group cycle, the children were asked to choose from three of such adventures: outer space, the old West and a fairy tale. Kirsten's group went to outer space. I stood on the sidelines watching on the monitors provided for the audience of parents, because I was too shy to participate. (I was the shy one; Kirsten was the fearless one.)
As I watched, through the magic of chromakey, my sister and her group of strangers traveled through outer space, battling evil anti-imagination space villains. Only through the powers of their imaginations could they escape! "Use your imaginations, now!" urged Dreamfinder from the video screen. "Go on, put your hands to your head, like this"-- he pressed his white-gloved fingers to his forehead-- "and imagine that they're disappearing! Go on!" And all the children pressed their hands to their foreheads, and I watched, transfixed, as my sister did this, and I could almost see the power of her imagination reaching out like an electric arm and zap those villains away. It was something real I was seeing, this power of imagination. I had never felt anything so magical. I had never been so jealous of my sister, who got to be there in outer space and fight the bad guys with Dreamfinder and the rest of the kids.
Now, I was four years old, but I was not a stupid four years old. I knew, rationally, that my sister was not really in outer space, because I could see her on the blue carpet in front of me. But at the same time, she was. She was there, and she was part of something fantastical and unreal and I wasn't, because I'd been too afraid. That moment when she pressed her hands into her forehead, and the music was playing, and the stars were all around her on the screen, it's burned somewhere very deeply into me. It was real, true, live magic. It was the first time I'd reached that duality of thought, where I could know one thing with my head, and at the same time I could believe another thing, with something other than my head.
Every year after that I always was first in line to be in Dreamfinder's Drama School. It was a ridiculous thing to be shy about; shyness was what kept me out of that marvelous adventure that first year, and I would never let it happen again. Even when I went to EPCOT later, as a teenager, with my friends (hi Ags!), before they took down the old Imageworks and put up that new crap in its place, we would go and stand towering above the small children, goofing off and pretending to be part of the adventure. Even after it was just a silly joke, some part of it wasn't. Because I think that that moment I described is what I've been chasing after since then. I think it's the reason I love EPCOT, and that my anxiety dreams are about EPCOT, and that I like to draw and that I read fantasy books and watch fantasy movies and am fascinated by the theatre and the magic created by a good group of performers. I'm chasing that one moment when I watched my sister's imagination destroy the bad guys, and I knew that I could do that, too.
Corny as shit, but it's utterly sincere, that. I've been trying to relive that moment since then, in various ways. It's in the back of every fantasy, every story, every movie, every adventure. I want to press my hands to my forehead and save the day.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 9:21 PM | shower me with attention
I'm going to actually quote myself here because my post-specific links don't really work, for some reason:
This, no longer around, was the site of what I realized today, coming home on the PATH, was a pivotal moment in my life. It's perhaps the single strongest memory I have of being a child. I don't really need to put it down here since I've always had it, but I guess I will anyway because Kirsten is taking forever to put her goddamn makeup on.
It was on maybe our second trip to Disney World, so we were four years old. We were in EPCOT, and Kirsten wanted to be one of the kids in Dreamfinder's School of Drama, an interactive exhibit at the Imagination pavilion, wherein children lined up in front of a blue screen on a black line painted in the carpet, and, in the video monitors in front of them, watched themselves be inserted into various pre-taped "adventures". At the beginning of each new group cycle, the children were asked to choose from three of such adventures: outer space, the old West and a fairy tale. Kirsten's group went to outer space. I stood on the sidelines watching on the monitors provided for the audience of parents, because I was too shy to participate. (I was the shy one; Kirsten was the fearless one.)
As I watched, through the magic of chromakey, my sister and her group of strangers traveled through outer space, battling evil anti-imagination space villains. Only through the powers of their imaginations could they escape! "Use your imaginations, now!" urged Dreamfinder from the video screen. "Go on, put your hands to your head, like this"-- he pressed his white-gloved fingers to his forehead-- "and imagine that they're disappearing! Go on!" And all the children pressed their hands to their foreheads, and I watched, transfixed, as my sister did this, and I could almost see the power of her imagination reaching out like an electric arm and zap those villains away. It was something real I was seeing, this power of imagination. I had never felt anything so magical. I had never been so jealous of my sister, who got to be there in outer space and fight the bad guys with Dreamfinder and the rest of the kids.
Now, I was four years old, but I was not a stupid four years old. I knew, rationally, that my sister was not really in outer space, because I could see her on the blue carpet in front of me. But at the same time, she was. She was there, and she was part of something fantastical and unreal and I wasn't, because I'd been too afraid. That moment when she pressed her hands into her forehead, and the music was playing, and the stars were all around her on the screen, it's burned somewhere very deeply into me. It was real, true, live magic. It was the first time I'd reached that duality of thought, where I could know one thing with my head, and at the same time I could believe another thing, with something other than my head.
Every year after that I always was first in line to be in Dreamfinder's Drama School. It was a ridiculous thing to be shy about; shyness was what kept me out of that marvelous adventure that first year, and I would never let it happen again. Even when I went to EPCOT later, as a teenager, with my friends (hi Ags!), before they took down the old Imageworks and put up that new crap in its place, we would go and stand towering above the small children, goofing off and pretending to be part of the adventure. Even after it was just a silly joke, some part of it wasn't. Because I think that that moment I described is what I've been chasing after since then. I think it's the reason I love EPCOT, and that my anxiety dreams are about EPCOT, and that I like to draw and that I read fantasy books and watch fantasy movies and am fascinated by the theatre and the magic created by a good group of performers. I'm chasing that one moment when I watched my sister's imagination destroy the bad guys, and I knew that I could do that, too.
Corny as shit, but it's utterly sincere, that. I've been trying to relive that moment since then, in various ways. It's in the back of every fantasy, every story, every movie, every adventure. I want to press my hands to my forehead and save the day.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 9:21 PM | shower me with attention
Sunday, February 24, 2008
Who's an asshole? I am, I am.
Who lost their debit card and now can't withdraw cash in any convenient way for the next 5-7 business days? I did, I did.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 1:36 PM | shower me with attention
Who lost their debit card and now can't withdraw cash in any convenient way for the next 5-7 business days? I did, I did.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 1:36 PM | shower me with attention
Sorry, Uncle Tom, couldn't help it- I just knew those Boing'ers would get a kick out of the automat footage. You've been Boing'ed!
Why are you in Tavie's head? 9:50 AM | shower me with attention
Why are you in Tavie's head? 9:50 AM | shower me with attention
Saturday, February 23, 2008
How could I leave Beth and Nathan off my recent list of friends who are getting married?
What's that make it, now?
Beth and Nathan
Jeremy and Daniella
Francis and Adrienne
Maria and Keith
Who'm I missing?
Why are you in Tavie's head? 4:11 PM | shower me with attention
"Evil little dwarf"!
Why are you in Tavie's head? 2:10 PM | shower me with attention
What's that make it, now?
Beth and Nathan
Jeremy and Daniella
Francis and Adrienne
Maria and Keith
Who'm I missing?
Why are you in Tavie's head? 4:11 PM | shower me with attention
"Evil little dwarf"!
Why are you in Tavie's head? 2:10 PM | shower me with attention
Thursday, February 21, 2008
I got new buddns!
Why are you in Tavie's head? 9:54 PM | shower me with attention
Why are you in Tavie's head? 9:54 PM | shower me with attention
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Saw Eddie Izzard tonight at the Union Square Theatre. MUCH better venue than last time. This was my 4th time seeing Mr. Izzard live since the first time my mom took me to see him in 1997 at a fabulously intimate little place with folding chairs and transvestite in shiny maroon up your nose. I remember after the show I ran right back to the newsgroup to tell everyone how awesome it was and they were like, "...."
And then, BOOM! He's a superstar, and I get to say "Ha, ha, I loved him first!"
Thanks, Mom! Sure, you're in Thailand right now feeding bunches of bananas to baby elephants, but I...
No, that's still awesome. You still win. Eddie would be very pleased that you went to Thailand. He urged the audience tonight to go out and "see the world, it's out there" and all I could think about was you and the bananas and the baby elephants...
Why are you in Tavie's head? 1:13 AM | shower me with attention
And then, BOOM! He's a superstar, and I get to say "Ha, ha, I loved him first!"
Thanks, Mom! Sure, you're in Thailand right now feeding bunches of bananas to baby elephants, but I...
No, that's still awesome. You still win. Eddie would be very pleased that you went to Thailand. He urged the audience tonight to go out and "see the world, it's out there" and all I could think about was you and the bananas and the baby elephants...
Why are you in Tavie's head? 1:13 AM | shower me with attention
Sunday, February 17, 2008
Now I'm hearing April to June for KITH tour. I can't wait to see them live again, dammit. April can't come fast enough.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:37 PM | shower me with attention
Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:37 PM | shower me with attention
I made a grocery bag dispenser. I hand-sewed it (because I don't know how to use a machine) out of some dark-red cotton that we had left over from our quilting phase.
I'm not gonna win any stitching awards or anything-- I'm a fairly lousy seamstress-- but it turned out a pretty handsome little item.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 9:29 PM | shower me with attention
I'm not gonna win any stitching awards or anything-- I'm a fairly lousy seamstress-- but it turned out a pretty handsome little item.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 9:29 PM | shower me with attention
Saturday, February 16, 2008
Oh hell, I know what I'm doing this Wednesday night: PBS Great Performances to air 2006 revival of "Company"!
Oh hells yes.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 2:04 PM | shower me with attention
Oh hells yes.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 2:04 PM | shower me with attention
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Guy Incognito and his friends at work are holding a Beard Off, and have chosen me to be the vote-counter. They're going to shave their beards on the same day and then grow them for two weeks. The judging for best beard will be held to a vote, American Idol-style. I will receive the votes by email and tally them. I'm sort of the PriceWaterhouseCooper of the Beard Off.
I sent them this cautionary tale, but they paid me no heed.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 8:47 PM | shower me with attention
I sent them this cautionary tale, but they paid me no heed.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 8:47 PM | shower me with attention
Another night of insomnia. Metta time.
Says the Buddha,
May beings all live happily and safe
And may their hearts rejoice within themselves.
Whatever there may be with breath of life
Whether they be frail or very strong, without exception,
Be they long or short or middle-sized,
Or be they big or small, or thick,
Or visible, or invisible,
Or whether they dwell far or they dwell near,
Those that are here, those seeking to exist
May beings all rejoice within themselves.
Let no one bring about another's ruin
And not despise in any way or place,
Let them not wish each other any ill
From provocation or from enmity.
I find this may be a useful practice to study and I hope Buddhists would not be offended at my cooptation of their principle.
At any rate, trying desperately to feel love towards all sentient beings sometimes helps me fall asleep.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 2:15 AM | shower me with attention
Says the Buddha,
May beings all live happily and safe
And may their hearts rejoice within themselves.
Whatever there may be with breath of life
Whether they be frail or very strong, without exception,
Be they long or short or middle-sized,
Or be they big or small, or thick,
Or visible, or invisible,
Or whether they dwell far or they dwell near,
Those that are here, those seeking to exist
May beings all rejoice within themselves.
Let no one bring about another's ruin
And not despise in any way or place,
Let them not wish each other any ill
From provocation or from enmity.
I find this may be a useful practice to study and I hope Buddhists would not be offended at my cooptation of their principle.
At any rate, trying desperately to feel love towards all sentient beings sometimes helps me fall asleep.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 2:15 AM | shower me with attention
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
Uncle Tom is posting home videos on Youtube again.
My parents, Christmas 1984, in our old house in Brooklyn, playing Crossbows and Catapults (about 30 seconds in):
Also amusing, 20 seconds in, is my sister causing someone to raise up a fuss in the other room, wherein Mom wearily sends her to the corner before turning her attention to Crossbows and Catapults.
I love it.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:03 PM | shower me with attention
My parents, Christmas 1984, in our old house in Brooklyn, playing Crossbows and Catapults (about 30 seconds in):
Also amusing, 20 seconds in, is my sister causing someone to raise up a fuss in the other room, wherein Mom wearily sends her to the corner before turning her attention to Crossbows and Catapults.
I love it.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:03 PM | shower me with attention
Sunday, February 10, 2008
I did more than laze this weekend. On Friday I saw Holy Moley, formerly Bearclaw perform at a place in Brooklyn that served up a mean pickletini. The sweet melodies and audible lyrics, the strummy, plucky gee-tars and, most especially, the beautiful vocals made them my new favorite band. Or maybe that was the pickletini.
Last night, I went to Brooklyn Heights to eat Italian food at my favorite Italian restaurant since Rafaella's closed, and then we watched Big Night and got drunk on decaf espresso and sambuca.
Today I met the goils for brunch (= many bloody marys) at Bone Lick Park and we saw El Orfanato, which featured Charlie Chaplin's daughter speaking fluent Spanish, and scary children with sack-heads. Neat.
I wish I had a pickletini.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 6:24 PM | shower me with attention
Last night, I went to Brooklyn Heights to eat Italian food at my favorite Italian restaurant since Rafaella's closed, and then we watched Big Night and got drunk on decaf espresso and sambuca.
Today I met the goils for brunch (= many bloody marys) at Bone Lick Park and we saw El Orfanato, which featured Charlie Chaplin's daughter speaking fluent Spanish, and scary children with sack-heads. Neat.
I wish I had a pickletini.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 6:24 PM | shower me with attention
Thursday, February 07, 2008
Are you a turtle?
(Blast from my past. Hi, Mom!)
Why are you in Tavie's head? 8:36 PM | shower me with attention
(Blast from my past. Hi, Mom!)
Why are you in Tavie's head? 8:36 PM | shower me with attention
Happy birthday, erin! I reach my arms all the way to Portland and give you a big hug!
Why are you in Tavie's head? 8:06 AM | shower me with attention
Why are you in Tavie's head? 8:06 AM | shower me with attention
Wednesday, February 06, 2008
I left my jacket in the lunchroom today and it was taken by the lady who buys milk and tidies things. I don't know her exact, official job title, but that's her function.
Anyhow, I've left things before and she had always put them in the front closet, but today she didn't, and it wasn't at her desk or anywhere else, so I had to go home without a jacket.
It was very warm today, and I did manage to avoid the rain, but had it been a typical February day, I'd be pissed.
As it is, I want my jacket back. It's beat-up and ugly, but it keeps the rain off.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 10:38 PM | shower me with attention
Anyhow, I've left things before and she had always put them in the front closet, but today she didn't, and it wasn't at her desk or anywhere else, so I had to go home without a jacket.
It was very warm today, and I did manage to avoid the rain, but had it been a typical February day, I'd be pissed.
As it is, I want my jacket back. It's beat-up and ugly, but it keeps the rain off.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 10:38 PM | shower me with attention
Tuesday, February 05, 2008
I think I really will be happy when I'm an old woman, because it will give me a legitimate reason to feel sorry for myself. I'm reading a novel right now (click the Goodreads button at left if you're curious) that's written from the point of view of an elderly woman, and I have to keep shaking myself to stop identifying with the character. I am aware that this is much due to Ms. Atwood's skill as a writer, but part of me is also aware that I am living the dull, quiet, overweight, medicated, partyless, knitting, crosswording, drooping, bespectacled*, old-man-loving, papery, baby-powder-scented life of a biddy.
I am at once generalizing about and insulting elderly women, perpetuating stereotypes and being generally crabby and close-minded. If I am, in fact, all of the things I've mentioned above, and if I am, chronologically, a 28-year-old woman, than I am, by definition, describing the life of a 28-year-old woman. Period.
*Yes, you know I couldn't wait to stick that one in there!
Why are you in Tavie's head? 10:26 PM | shower me with attention
I am at once generalizing about and insulting elderly women, perpetuating stereotypes and being generally crabby and close-minded. If I am, in fact, all of the things I've mentioned above, and if I am, chronologically, a 28-year-old woman, than I am, by definition, describing the life of a 28-year-old woman. Period.
*Yes, you know I couldn't wait to stick that one in there!
Why are you in Tavie's head? 10:26 PM | shower me with attention
I love Virginia Hefferman's "The Medium" column in the only publication I read regularly, the Sunday New York Times Magazine. This week's article, My wired youth, explores growing up online (for her, in the early '80's!), one of my favorite subjects. I love internet nostalgia.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 8:14 PM | shower me with attention
Why are you in Tavie's head? 8:14 PM | shower me with attention
Note to self:
Vote.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 6:07 PM | shower me with attention
Why are you in Tavie's head? 10:52 PM | shower me with attention
Vote.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 6:07 PM | shower me with attention
Sunday, February 03, 2008
Why are you in Tavie's head? 10:52 PM | shower me with attention
Gina tells me I'm rooting for the Giants, because I'm from New York. So when they won the Superbowl, I told Gina she should run across the hall and get a high five from the extremely loud boys who live next door.
She did, as I looked on from the doorway, but then they all came spilling out to high-five the rest of us (except poor, pouting Cheryl in her Patriots shirt) and that's when I realized I was standing in my doorway, being high-fived by cute boys in glasses, as I stood there in a bathrobe, shiny from my recent shower, with my hair in a messy bun and with my reading glasses perched on my nose.
Whoops.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 10:13 PM | shower me with attention
She did, as I looked on from the doorway, but then they all came spilling out to high-five the rest of us (except poor, pouting Cheryl in her Patriots shirt) and that's when I realized I was standing in my doorway, being high-fived by cute boys in glasses, as I stood there in a bathrobe, shiny from my recent shower, with my hair in a messy bun and with my reading glasses perched on my nose.
Whoops.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 10:13 PM | shower me with attention
