Monday, January 31, 2011

the walls we hit. it's tacky.

i would like to inspire the world with my insanely ambitious failures and mistakes.
i would like to cast strindberg's A Dream Play with only two actors and an ambitious technician.

we should all cry in public a lot more. we should extinguish each other's cigarettes with tears.

an 800 mile essentially blind date in like 20 days is no big deal right? like, hey-o no need to freak out just because i invited a stranger to sleep in my bed right? i should hide my valuables. i should wash my sheets. and my jeans. and all the many articles of clothing that have suddenly begin to smell. abruptly, there are a lot of them.

i am so not okay with skool.
is it really so much to ask to feel okay about letting people down and instead going to watch mr. rickman give me his bestest john gabriel. written by my posthumous boyfriend henrik of course.

no one uses boomboxes anymore. i need three.

my friend saw daniel radcliffe and hugh jackman tonight at john gabriel borkman. that totally beats me seeing jenna fischer after our town last spring. because they're brits.

i wrote and staged a performance piece on friday entitled "a dream play." it was very short. i wish i could turn that in instead of my strindberg homework.

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

winter wardrobe expansion #1: california edition.

my cousin in california sent me the first thing she ever knitted for a christmas gift, and it was this totally badass weirdo necktie sort of thing (the kind of amazing first knitting project, that has stitches turning up and disappearing all over the place, and i'm pretty sure it wasn't supposed to be question mark shaped), so in return i made her a bunny hat, which might just be one of the best looking things i have ever made. definitely one of the first times that what i imagined in my head was as good in reality.
yeah, i used that cat hat pattern from the stitch 'n bitch book as the base. go tell yr mom.

Thursday, January 20, 2011

no interest in.

oh shit it's so good, like from that moment that beth puts on her sunglasses, i'm sold. and i know it's fucking stupid and hypocritical and lame to be blog-posting a video (a times new viking video, no less) that i saw first on pitchfork, but i super love their band even though this song is very like different and kind of derivative of lots of bands that i can't name off the top of (my head).

Monday, January 17, 2011

to yr skull.

every time the pilot says we are beginning our descent into la guardia airport, my mind jumps straight to:
and now is the moment the bomb goes off. between now, this moment, when we are in mid-air decline, losing altitude like pennies out the our holes in our pocket, and touching down on LGA runway, my airplane is in danger of being hijacked and blown to bits.

this thought always comes upon me as if from nowhere. there are several seconds where i believe it with my whole person. in these situations i become preoccupied with wanting to curl into the lap of the person next to me or wanting to scream and run into the cockpit (where i will then curl into the pilot's lap).

today i managed to push past this initial shock that i am in grave and terrible danger by then imagining the more particular things about the bombing. where would the bomber be sitting on the airplane? (how did he/she/they get a bomb, or the makings of one, past the new-fangled airport security?) were they sitting close enough to me to hear me ask the flight attendant for a diet coke? did they think to him/her/themselves:
diet coke, that's funny, see 'cause when someone orders diet coke they aren't ordering it to enjoy it now. well, yes, she will enjoy it now because it is a cold, bubbly, sweet thing, but so is regular coke. but diet coke, nah man, that's for thinking about the future, about all the calories she didn't ingest and won't have to worry about burning off, about some sort of future gain of rational or feel-good-ish-ness. but MUWAHAHAHA!!! listen to her with her diet coke and her future!!! she has no future.

and then we all die.

and then i start to wonder how i'll die. when the bomb goes off. you know in movies when people are sitting in like cars or planes and a bomb happens the sort of jolt forward? would that happen to me? what would my arms do? would i throw my arms up against the tray table locked in front of me? could they hit the tray table so hard that my forearm bones or hand bones shattered? if i threw my arms up in front of me against the tray table and then lurched my body forward would my head collide with my forearms? could i get a concussion from my head colliding with my forearms? could i break my skull by hitting it against my arms? would my arms break after they hit the tray table and got hit by my head? would this scenario render me lifeless? or would i die of internal bleeding or shock or asphyxiation? if the bomb goes off near me, well, all those fumes i'm sure would knock me senseless instantly, if not kill me flat out.
would the oxygen masks deploy and would i be lucid enough to regard this as irony?

and so for a few moments, we are not only descending into la guardia, but also into complete madness. and then i look out the window again and regard the flaming pink flamingo sunset in the west and the glittering golden blink of the city below.