Space Hoopty
Well, this was some nice shopping I got done today:
A set of wrapping paper - because, apparently, now I have at least two gifts on tap to wrap and distribute this season - and
A new folder for my "papes"
At Alphaville in the West Village...
As well as plenty of new action figures and a copy of Carrie Fisher's book The Best Awful. It was on the "homeless items" discount table, and I decided to give it a good home. Also, one of our reading assigments for my writing class was Postcards from the Edge, and it was definitely my favorite one so far. Who would have thought that one of my biggest literary influences would be Leia Organa?
I am worried about the action figures, though. This one in particular was something I've coveted for a while: "The Simpsons" DMV playset. It was remarkably inexpensive, and I'm glad I bought it, but I am worried about the inevitable moment when people start thinking I'm an eligible bachelorette - and the sinker is "Well, she does collect action figures!"
I went to Lovette's memorial last night at Lincoln Center. First of all, I have never, ever been inside of the theatre, so it was overwhelming to me just to walk through those doors and see all those giant posters, many of which I've only seen on a postage stamp scale (and still use on postage stamps, if I really like you - except for The Most Happy Fella, that one's mine for the keeping!). I got to see some old friends from the theatre community, as well as some new people - although I have to say that when I saw Audra up close at the reception, my knees turned to Jell-o and I could barely speak.
About Lincoln Center: I have no interest in seeing The Coast of Wanktopia. I don't see the point of doing this show in America if they're not going to bring in the original British cast and just replace them with the Same Five People they cast in everything over here. Man, Ethan Hawke's fine, but he isn't...I mean, he just doesn't hold up, you know what I'm saying? Whenever I look at Ethan Hawke, I always tend to go, yeah, he's good and all, but what's he got to say or do that'll even be remotely interesting?
About Theatre Queens in general: I was really glad that they made this event open to the public, although there were some people who couldn't even get seats. There was one guy I could have sworn I took out a temporary restraining order against who kept pointing and gawking and giving me the creepy eye. Look, if you know someone who knows someone on Broadway, I don't care. Talking about people you're not even remotely associated with who have some tangential approximation to fame or respectability is something I find extremely sleazy and ennerving. I sometimes have to prevent myself from not giving a shit about what's going on Broadway or whatever.
I was, however, sitting right near The Eyebrows That Ate Manhattan. To see them up close? Weird and cool at the same time.
It was a blessed, communal event. Kudos to everyone who made this a "Celebration of Life" in the best sense. In honor of the holiday season officially beginning, I'm going to listen to her version of "The Annoying Little Drummer Boy" from Carols for a Cure 2005 sometime.
Other things:
Saw Borat and loved, it, but it's not like I'm going to be quoting it ad nauseum.
The NYT agrees with me and the general public - albeit this write-up never once mentions the words "kitsch," "camp," or "cheese."
I'm a little obsessed with The Goodbye Girl CD now. I probably am going to be quoting it ad nauseum, much to the chagrin of everyone else.
Striking 12. Is it worth a look-see if I get comps?
I mean, I read All That Chat. I haven't really seen anything on it yet, but I guess I don't really care. Because it exists only in the realm of hypertext. I would wish it didn't come to life as frequently as it does in my normal, heterosexual female life. I knew who these people were: I just know from experience how weird it is to hold them up to a certain standard in front of normal people who don't necessarily understand. Talkin' Broadway really is like a foreign language to most people. Damn you for getting me hooked!
Anyway, there are worse things that could happen.
See: All That Chat. Re: "Marta." That poor woman...
A set of wrapping paper - because, apparently, now I have at least two gifts on tap to wrap and distribute this season - and
A new folder for my "papes"
At Alphaville in the West Village...
As well as plenty of new action figures and a copy of Carrie Fisher's book The Best Awful. It was on the "homeless items" discount table, and I decided to give it a good home. Also, one of our reading assigments for my writing class was Postcards from the Edge, and it was definitely my favorite one so far. Who would have thought that one of my biggest literary influences would be Leia Organa?
I am worried about the action figures, though. This one in particular was something I've coveted for a while: "The Simpsons" DMV playset. It was remarkably inexpensive, and I'm glad I bought it, but I am worried about the inevitable moment when people start thinking I'm an eligible bachelorette - and the sinker is "Well, she does collect action figures!"
I went to Lovette's memorial last night at Lincoln Center. First of all, I have never, ever been inside of the theatre, so it was overwhelming to me just to walk through those doors and see all those giant posters, many of which I've only seen on a postage stamp scale (and still use on postage stamps, if I really like you - except for The Most Happy Fella, that one's mine for the keeping!). I got to see some old friends from the theatre community, as well as some new people - although I have to say that when I saw Audra up close at the reception, my knees turned to Jell-o and I could barely speak.
About Lincoln Center: I have no interest in seeing The Coast of Wanktopia. I don't see the point of doing this show in America if they're not going to bring in the original British cast and just replace them with the Same Five People they cast in everything over here. Man, Ethan Hawke's fine, but he isn't...I mean, he just doesn't hold up, you know what I'm saying? Whenever I look at Ethan Hawke, I always tend to go, yeah, he's good and all, but what's he got to say or do that'll even be remotely interesting?
About Theatre Queens in general: I was really glad that they made this event open to the public, although there were some people who couldn't even get seats. There was one guy I could have sworn I took out a temporary restraining order against who kept pointing and gawking and giving me the creepy eye. Look, if you know someone who knows someone on Broadway, I don't care. Talking about people you're not even remotely associated with who have some tangential approximation to fame or respectability is something I find extremely sleazy and ennerving. I sometimes have to prevent myself from not giving a shit about what's going on Broadway or whatever.
I was, however, sitting right near The Eyebrows That Ate Manhattan. To see them up close? Weird and cool at the same time.
It was a blessed, communal event. Kudos to everyone who made this a "Celebration of Life" in the best sense. In honor of the holiday season officially beginning, I'm going to listen to her version of "The Annoying Little Drummer Boy" from Carols for a Cure 2005 sometime.
Other things:
Saw Borat and loved, it, but it's not like I'm going to be quoting it ad nauseum.
The NYT agrees with me and the general public - albeit this write-up never once mentions the words "kitsch," "camp," or "cheese."
I'm a little obsessed with The Goodbye Girl CD now. I probably am going to be quoting it ad nauseum, much to the chagrin of everyone else.
Striking 12. Is it worth a look-see if I get comps?
I mean, I read All That Chat. I haven't really seen anything on it yet, but I guess I don't really care. Because it exists only in the realm of hypertext. I would wish it didn't come to life as frequently as it does in my normal, heterosexual female life. I knew who these people were: I just know from experience how weird it is to hold them up to a certain standard in front of normal people who don't necessarily understand. Talkin' Broadway really is like a foreign language to most people. Damn you for getting me hooked!
Anyway, there are worse things that could happen.
See: All That Chat. Re: "Marta." That poor woman...
posted by Gypsy at 1:30 PM
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