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Showing posts from September, 2008

David Cross and I Should Marry

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I downloaded a bunch of his stand-up this weekend and now find myself walking down the street listening to it and bursting out laughing (and so looking like a crazy person). I don't care. He's un PC and calls women the c-word (well, just Paris Hilton and Nicole Richey. He has a bit about the Simple Life where he describes them as "two rich giggling cunts." In this case, it is the perfect, perfect description) and makes fun of gay people (while at the same time making the argument that homosexuality is not a choice, but genetics) and religion (not that I care about that) and jokes about lowing the age of sexual consent to 15 because "he's a grown man with skills," not like some acne-scarred 16 year old boy who's going to pop in 15 seconds, and I would marry him in a second. I like that he's angry and hates George Bush so so so so so much and also isn't too keen on rednecks or Republicans (has this bit about how after 9/11, he was so sick of a

Screenplay or Everything's a Cliche

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So what if I wrote a screenplay that another modern day Cyrano de Begerac / Roxanne where the central protagonist is a girl who writes letters for other people all day (not unlike someone we know) and she starts writing these letters to this handsome big important guy, but the letters are ostensibly from her (female) boss. He starts writing back and they carry on this epistolary relationship, with him thinking he's falling in love with the boss who doesn't actually read the letters and has no idea what's going on. Anyway, there's more to the concept, but it occurred to me as I was silently congratulating myself on my brilliance that the female version of this was one in The Truth About Cats and Dogs with Uma Thurman and Janine Garofalo. I think it was phone conversations instead of letters, but the conceit remains the same. Anyway, so what, I don't care about copying and I don't care about selling out. Actually, I do care about copying. The hardest thing about

Friday Photographs: Not Exciting

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Not a great week for photographs; can't really say why, because I did have my eyes peeled on most of my walks. I guess there were 2 mornings this past week when I didn't talk my longer route, so had less to go on. Plus, maybe I've finally run out of interesting Philadelphia windows. Don't think so. Especially since they tend to change with the seasons. Below, please find a chaotically patched cat for your review. Here is a spooky cat. Only because he's looking down at you from above, like, Beware the mulberry bush. Many gargoyles and then one ceramic cat. This door knocker can be found somewhere along Spruce--maybe between 15-16. You may not be able to tell from the smaller photograph, but the knocker is a lion. People in Philadelphia seem to love lions. I am cranky today. Didn't get much sleep last night (maybe like three hours?), and I'm not complaining about the reason why and then there's all this sort of strange work stuff going on and I don't

My Inevitable Fame and Fortune

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I'm taking my first Drexel class tonight: screenwriting. I probably should have waited to buy the software required until I see what the class is like before I spent $99 to download what's basically just a formatting program. Who knows, maybe I will have found my true calling and sell a screenplay for billions of dollars. I am certain my friends would agree I have a talent for glib, superficial writing that would translate well into a sit-com or a Geico commercial (though as an aside, I don't understand the amalgamation of the ads including car insurance and Aunt Jemima. Haven't we all agreed that AJ is a racist throwback mammy symbol? Maybe Geico's newest slogan is, Don't be a slave to your car insurance). I don't have any particularly brilliant screenplay ideas at the moment though. We watched Waitress when I was in CT; sort of an indie movie starring Keri Russell written by one of the other actors in the movie (who was subsequently murdered in her Brookly

Pin-up

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When Liz visited this weekend to do her door-to-door campaigning, she let me have an "Obama/Biden" pin. This morning, I put it on my bag--this after some internal debate about whether or not it was appropriate to have a political pin visible at work, even though it wouldn't be visible since my bag is typically under my desk, not displayed in a case at the entrance to my office. But then wearing it, I felt slightly vulnerable, especially when passing a clump of fat white South Philly men who may or may not be supporters. Liz said this weekend that she thought lots of them would be Democrats b/c of being union men, but I've also seen some McCain posters nestled up next to VM's in the Union League windows, so you never know. And there's that shitty t-shirt display across from Geno's that reads "You're in America. Speak English." That makes me want to go over to the dude's at Geno's and say, "When your grandfather/father first came t

Pictures the I Should Have Posted Last Week Except I Was Lazy

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You might think that Philadelphia is just a cold, hard city without whimsy or cows, but look: Last time I posted photos, my mom emailed me to ask if I had to seek out the Virgin Mary's that are usually included. The answer is no. Every other window or home in South Philadelphia is graced by the VM. This particular Virgin lights up at night. Blurry photo of the night sky. I took this last Wed. while walking home from the subway after my first Kelly's Writer house meeting--a writing group at Penn that meets every other week. We went over three stories/essays. I might make friends. I know the reflection in this photo is bad, but I still like the idea of the window. Very Marie Antoinette. And who doesn't love to see a porcelain man in a powdered wig? Took this photo on one of my breaks from jury duty. Our case was held on the 6th floor of City Hall. A wonderful building though the bathrooms are difficult to find. New phallic-imagery wall painting on South and 6th Street hon

American Citizen

Had jury duty for three days last week--I was certain I wouldn't get selected, but I didn't write down or say anything too unAmerican or smart or ignorant and so I was one of eight on a civil case involving a man suing the Philadelphia Housing Authority for a back and neck injury he allegedly sustained when an employee rear-ended him in a car accident two years ago. The group of people were pretty nice, though one lady seemed kind of simple when she said (after one hour of listening to a witness the first day), Well, they're dragging this on. I was like, We've heard one person. I didn't like the lawyer for the plaintiff that much because the judge (a woman) kept interrupting him as though he were doing something wrong and he spoke too fast and the court reporter got really irritated with him. We awarded the dude $33,500, about $23,500 more than I recommended (I didn't believe his testimony). Liz and Luke were up this weekend to campaign for Obama and we went to

Back from CT

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Spent the weekend in Danbury , CT visiting with my mom and stepdad and my stepfather's son (John) and wife (Patty), their two children (Elise and Nash), a grandchild (Payton), two cats, and a dog. Their part of Connecticut is really beautiful; lots of trees and A-frame houses with widow's peaks and clapboard siding. John and Patty's house is gorgeous and I slept in Elise's old room with the pillow-topped mattress. It made me realize that maybe it would be nice to be wealthy. Below, please find a photograph of my stepdad who was mostly quiet the entire time I was there. He's not the best conversationalist and he mostly likes to just fish and play cribbage. This is his son, John (not a great photo of him--he's making a funny face). I've known John since I was little, but we've always met at weird in between ages that didn't match (he's about ten years older than me). This time, we had a little more in common or at least it felt easier to talk t

Politics Plus Friday Photos

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Here's what Matt Damon has to say about Sarah Palin . In a nutshell, he says that her nomination is like a plot to a bad Disney--conservative hockey mom makes it the White House. He wants to know why more people aren't talking about how absurd her nomination is. Speaking of absurd (absurdly cute), how about this mournful dog? This house is off of Morris and maybe 12th or 13th. I like that it's so ornate and strange; a little out place with the row houses surrounding it. Plus, lions. I love how skinny and strange looking this cat is and how he has on that way too big blue collar. You just know that the owners hear the bell ding-a-linging all day and night long. Kitten and clocks set to all different times. I would like to meet the people who live here. Will be going to CT today on Amtrak to visit family. I like riding the train because it makes me feel like something interesting or mysterious might happen ala a Hitchcock film.

Confessions From an Underwear-a-holic

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I just saw a preview for this new movie (based on a book) called Confessions of a Shop-a-holic (not to be confused with Steve Martin's book, Shopgirl , also made into a movie starring Claire Danes); this particular film looks pretty bad--lots of slapstick like girl walking into windows, girl sliding across a floor filled with marbles, girl accidentally giving a blow job to a cop. And I don't really relate to the whole Prada, Gucci, Milana Blanhik (sp?) thing, but I do have an underwear shopping problem. I probably own maybe 50 pair of panties at the moment and yet I bought 4 more at the Gap the other day and then another 3 pair today at Urban Outfitters. But they were on sale, people: $1.99 each. I think it's also based out of the fear that I'll run out--this is after how many years on not having access to a washer/dryer---I now have this need to squirrel away lots and lots and lots so if I ever need to go for like 15 months without laundry, I'd still be okay. Spea

Imagine Trying to Do This

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Imagine you had this idea that you wanted the crux of your novel and the entire trajectory of the two central characters to hinge on a single physical act. Then think, what would be the most basic act, something sort of small but potentially devastating depending on the minds and lives of the characters? How about...premature ejaculation? How about PE being the reason that these two people who really do love each other but are naive and scared split on their wedding night and never see each other again? Well, I certainly couldn't describe it without it sounding like something out of Forum magazine, but Ian McEwan can. This is that scene from On Chesil Beach (note: spoiler plus sperm involved). Just to set it up a little bit, this is set in 1962 and both characters are virgins. Oh, and the guy has been abstaining from any form of self-pleasure for a week before this, God knows why. The female, Florence, is petrified about the act of "penetration" that she's only read a

Most Pathetic, "Pick Me!" Pop Songs

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I don't know if I can come up with more than a couple in the few quick minutes I have before I must leave, but I have been meaning to write how every time this particular Abba song makes it through the shuffle, I always think, like, how is this appealing to anyone. 1. "Take A Chance on Me:" Lyrics: "If you change your mind/I'm the first in line/Honey, I'm still free/Take a chance on me/If you need me, let me know/Gonna be around/If you got no place to go/When you're feeling down/If you're all alone/When the pretty birds have flown/Honey, I'm still free/Take a chance on me/Gonna do my very best/And it ain't no lie/If you put me to the test/If you let me try..." Like, who would say, Oh, really, okay. It's the chase. The chase is more fun and also, you want to be with someone who has a life, right? 2. "All for Leyna" Some of the lyrics: "She gave me a night/That's all it was/What will it take until I stop kidding mysel

One More Thing

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Just received a blog comment from Lisa Marie pointing out that I have 38 entries labelled "cats" and only a few labelled "Lisa Marie." That reminded me that I took photos of my two charges from this weekend, Paul Skoles and Piper. See if you can discern them from this passel of kittens in the photo below. Paul Skoles was always the biggest kittie, and Piper, the most skittish. And look, thanks to Carrie and Padhraig, they are real life cats now.Paul is the more assertive/obnoxious of the two. He needs to be in your lap, on your face, kneading your hair at every second. Piper is a little more demure, but still very friendly. I sort of prefer Piper because he's less aggressive, but the truth is that he's more of a behind-the-scenes bad boy. He misbehaves, but isn't as obvious about it as Paul is. Plus, they are best buddies. And Paul meows more often than Piper--this sort of low, mannish meow that makes you think that maybe he has been stabbed and is s

What Drugs Will Do to You

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So, I did take a couple of the Tylenol-3's, just because, you know, I had them. I don't think I slept at all, the whole night. I sort of drifted in and out of consciousness and would have these startling moments where I would jerk awake in that way that feels like you've just been dropped from a ledge onto a mattress. Lots of vivid dreams/hallucinations, mostly about vampires, for some reason. Maybe because of all of the blood. In the morning, I flushed the rest of the Tylenol down the toilet to prevent myself from become an addict and showing up on the new season of Intervention . I don't know that I could ever get addicted to painkillers; they make me move too slow and don't knock me out. I have had the same experience every time I take Nyquil. It makes me feel like I'm floating on this endless raft between cognizance and sleep, very unsatisfying and weird and you end up sleeping in these weird positions but not realizing it until one half of your body has gon

More Pictures Plus Blood

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So, I made it through my latest dental appointment without too much trouble except for the excessive blood that keeps pouring into the back of my throat. I can't stop smiling at myself in the mirror and looking at the blood between my teeth. It appears that I've just lost/won a fight. I would take a picture but it's grody to the max. The oral surgeon was very nice. I had to have another one of those horrible shots to the roof of my mouth and he sang while he did it, "You're okay, you're okay, you're doing fine!" I paged through a magazine for a few moments while that half of my face went dead and he came back in and said, Now, tell me if you feel any of this. I thought he was just testing if I was numb and then he said, "One root out!" He had my head pressed against the side of his stomach and he was singing again, "Sit real still. Don't move. You're doing great! Keep still, almost there, don't move..." It was over in

Art Crumbs

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Lisa Marie had her video installation reception last night at ICA (the Institute of Contemporary Art) which is located in West Philadelphia so that made it easy for me to walk over after work and people-watch rather than look at the pieces. Her video wasn't showing that night, so I'll go back to see it another time, but there was a video by a woman that featured her endlessly breaking through these walls with a heavy hammer and chopping at wood in a skirt. I didn't understand it and so decided it was dumb. They're also exhibiting Robert Crumb's work. I went through six different phases of liking and hating him just in the process of moving from frame to frame. He's clearly talented and interesting, but then he has all of these violent and gross pieces like women stabbing each other while having sex with a strung out hippie or a hick chopping off the heads of chickens so he can have sex with them while they're wiggling. But then you also get the sense that he

Miss Me?

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I have been awol for a few reasons. 1. Can't seem to find the time to write on the weekends, what with all my heavy socializing, reading of library books, cat chasing, looking at my new haircut from every angle in the mirror, and Solitaire playing. 2. Was away at a work retreat in Atlantic City for two days. I felt flattered to be included, but also kind of unequipped to add anything of substance, given my semi-newness at the University. That said, I'm also discovering that I know more about development and Institutional Advancement than I thought I did. They published my newest piece in Maven , called "Two Boys for the Price of One." I'm slightly surprised that they published it as I wrote it, especially since I used the word "fuck" (though they did amend it to read "f**k" which could mean "fork" or "folk" or "funk" or "fink" or "fluk") I'm still in contact with one of the boys in said art