I just wanna know how it gets made!!

Another successful NYC trip. I mean, having a cute boy escort you around helps and all, but it sure was nice to get to see my cousin and some old friends. And. And. Wait for it. Rob Riggle. At Asscat! (the free improv show at the UCB theatre) Oh so good. Soooo Goood! Also Sanz and Levine and gangly boy from In the Loop showed up, but man, Riggle... I might have wet myself, just a little, when they announced his name. And now, I know I simply must get back into improv somehow. With an improv teacher for a mommy, that shouldn't be so hard, yes? But lorrrrrd chile', I am RuSty! I would need some industrial strength classes to get me back on track.
Moving along. Let's get to the real reason why I am posting. The flight back. I had an experience that led me to create a list of rules for guys who hope to pick up chicks on a plane.
1. Introducing yourself is nice.
2. Saying you remember a girl's face from the flight to NYC is... nice.
3. If she tells you right off the bat that she was visiting her boyfriend, back off.
4. Don't invite her to sit across from you and talk.
5. If you insist on pursuing such a lady, don't ask her questions like
a. do you really love your boyfriend?
b. do you say it?
c. how many times do you say I love you?
d. how many times have you been in love before?
e. do you think he's really into you?
6. If she answers in a manner that suggests she and her partner have a strong relationship, abort mission.
7. Do not:
-Show her the video of your arm being sliced up with a scalpel, followed by having art burnt into it for two hours. She is not impressed that you meditated your way through the pain of having someone cut off a layer of flesh. All she sees is a bloody, skinless arm. For two hours.
-Ask her to scoot over, turn off the overhead light and sit unnecessarily close to her. Especially when you smell like the pail we used to mop the bathroom at my old job.
-Excuse yourself to go to the restroom a million times, leaving her with aforementioned video, then come back with stories like the time you walked in on a girl masturbating in an airplane bathroom.
-Especially do not follow that story up with a suggestive look.
8. If you have not received the desired response by now- and lets face it buster, your moves are about as smooth as a cactus's taint- I would strongly suggest you move along.
9. Do not, as a last ditch attempt, suggest that the two of you go to the back of the plane to watch a movie. She will indeed be forced to shove you out of the way, run to the front of the plane, exclaiming "I feel turbulence! Gotta get back to our seats! Is the plane slowing down??"

I really hope that helps keep any of you fellas from making such grave mistakes as this poor young man did. I was a bit scarred. I mean, not as badly as this guy's arm, but still...

Failure face!

I used to have a Charlie Brown complex. Over the years, however, that has turned into a good thing. That kid was no quitter. I dig that. Here's someone who seems doomed to fail at everything he tries, but he doesn't stop trying. There's a lot to be said for that.



http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c5y4_W-humw

And no, I'm not ashamed that I love this movie. It's definitely worth netflixing.

A Noiseless Patient Spider

A NOISELESS PATIENT SPIDER

A noiseless patient spider,
I mark'd where on a little promontory it stood isolated,
It launch'd forth filament, filament, filament, out of itself,
Ever unreeling them, ever tirelessly speeding them.

And you O my soul where you stand,
Surrounded, detached, in measureless oceans of space,
Ceaselessly musing, venturing, throwing, seeking the spheres to connect them,
Till the bridge you will need be form'd, till the ductile anchor hold,
Till the gossamer thread you fling catch somewhere, O my soul.

W.W.

Fruit and flowers and pavement! Wow!

My first night back in ol' NYC after being absent for almost ten years, I was stopped by a very drunk, yet delightful train wreck who had to give me a hug because my dress looked like a "taxi cab". And if that's not reason enough to love someone, then I don't know what is. Oh, New York. Do people living there ever realize how wonderful you? Every, every minute?
Yeah, guess who saw Our Town off broadway? Hey hey. If you live there, I would highly recommend catching the production. Shall we talk a moment about the play? I've probably seen the production more times than I care to admit; sat through Emilys that made you want to rip out your own entrails and choke your self to death; been made to read the play a ba-zillion times... and yet, now that I am older, I have a fondness for it that I certainly didn't have when I was in school. I thought the play too sugary sweet, that it was "safe" and "dated" and just "redouchulously boring". And then somewhere along the way, that changed. It is amazing how many earth shattering yet totally insignificant things can happen in one day. It is beautiful and ridiculous at the same time. I never thought much of why Mr. Wilder was so insistent that his play have no set, no props; this production brought it all to light.
Spoiler alert for those who intend to go see it. You've been warned. Emily dies. Oh!
But seriously, I don't want to give away how they handle it if you don't know and don't want to know.
So you go through the whole show with just two tables set up in this black box theatre and there is a black curtain covering the back wall upstage. The actors are in very general street clothes and minimal props are used. Cut to the end. Emily has died and wishes to go back for an day, an unimportant one (as you all well remember). She chooses her twelfth birthday. The stage manager pulls back the upstage curtain and you are introduced to the Webb's Real Kitchen. After sitting through over an hour with no set, you are instantly swept away by how beautiful the home actually is: there's frost on the windows where the sun is just peeking through, there is real bacon cooking on the stove and the smell immediately fills the theatre... you've spent an entire show in the kitchen, but you've never really seen it until now.
It was brilliant. Just gorgeous- and needless to say I wept like a baby. Okay, I complain. A lot (couch!!). And, yeah, life isn't easy- but goddammit, it is also unbelievably beautiful- every minute, every person, every place, every morning that I take for granted... It's impossible, but I need to try and keep my eyes open as much as I can, because there is so much I don't want to miss.
To scoot along to another topic, I'll briefly mention that I had a blast with the bf this weekend. There were straight up Woody Allen moments, for sure; I met some amazing and delightful people and returned to place that I once was determined to call home. It still may happen. I have a less than a year until my lease is up and then we'll go from there. We'll go from there, ya know?

Hairy Situation

$55 bucks for a cut you don't really like?
And THAT is why you can't pay your bills, jessbecause.