why I would subscribe to Star magazine...
and it's not bc I have thousands of star tattoos, my middle name isn't 'obvious' nor 'mildly ironic'! It's Elizabeth, actually. But I wanted to title this blog "celebfest" bc basically I'm just going to start talking about celebrities for the next few paragraphs...and I
don't feel shameful or self-indulgent in doing so. I've read People magazine since the third grade; I even remember when US was monthly (I read it then too) and not the glossy weekly we've come to know and love (and chronicle relationships by: Demi/Ashton; Jen/Ben #1; Jen/Ben #2...the list goes on). Actually, I've realized I much prefer Star (the new re-vamped version has excellent snarky writing without being too too witty--that's why I read Entertainment Weekly too--and they simply have a goal to give people the most up-to-date celeb info at that particular moment, but not dumbed-down in an "In Touch" sort of way) for necessary trash rag info. Their tagline says it all: "breaking celebrity news first!" I completely support them, and am considering buying a year's subscription. If Sarah-five-years-ago knew that Sarah-in-the-now was possibly buying a subscription to Star, whoa, there'd be chaos. It
did used to be trashy and heavily tabloid-based (Elvis, UFOs, grossly obsese adults and children, etc.); I remember staring at the covers of Star and Nat'l Enquirer when I would grocery-shop with my mom (this might not have been five years ago; possibly more like ten or even twelve). But the newer, bigger, better, glossier Star is the best!
This is why we buy it and bring it to the beach whenever there is a beach day. US Weekly is still also bought, but case in point:
Stars are just like us! feature in US vs.
Stars who are normal or...not normal in Star. I'm getting sick of seeing Jennifer Garner pump her own gas or Halle Berry shopping at a supermarket...this is nothing new or exciting. However, in Star, I get to see pictures of Ivana Trump racing a go-kart (not normal)! Dennis Rodman parades in panties (not normal)! Simon Cowell gets a haircut (and admires it on the way home!) (normal)! Prince William gets gummy worms to go (not normal)! And don't even get me started on the section called "Knifestyles of the Rich & Famous"--brilliant! Then they do this thing called the Weekly Awards, which is essentially the writers of Star making up awards to give to celebrities. Colin Farrell got the "I have no real friends award!" which is absolutely hysterical. Here's what they wrote under a picture of Colin Farrell blowing out candles on a bday cake--with his full name written on it! "It's a sad day when your friends put your last name on a birthday cake--as if someone might forget who you are?
Colin Farrell, who turned 29 on May 31, garnered the dubious distinction on June 4 in Miami Beach when his
Miami Vice co-star, Jaime Fox, surprised him with the overly formal, comedic cake." Then Jack Osbourne got the "Secret Cutie Award!" and Victoria Beckham got the "Flat Butt Award!" (finally!). I'm so obsessed with Star. Oh, and one more thing, I read the cover story: Did Jessica sleep with this man [Bam Margera] ? This woman [Jenn Rivell, his ex-fiance] says yes! What's the real story?
Well, Star got interviews with both Jenn Rivell, and Bam Margera...that's pretty cool, and no one was bull-shitting around and offering false pretenses about "we're just good friends" etc or whatever their publicists say. Let me quote directly: "Jenn says she became convinced by an email that something happened between Bam and Jess. Earlier this year, a suspicious Jenn secretly arranged to have Bam's emails forwarded to her email account. One of them, from a friend of his, said,
'Congrats on Jessica Simpson.' Jenn says that Bam's reply was: 'Yeah, it was the craziest thing. I woke up in her bed the next morning.' !!!! You will not find
that in People mag. Then later on, from Bam's side of the story: "Bam isn't denying that he
slept with Jessica. He tells Star he did spend the night at her parents' house with her--and about ten other people--but
there was no sex. After partying at the Roxy, he explains, 'We'd had way too much to drink. We passed out on a couch at her parents' house while they were away. It was nothing.' In the morning, Bam says, 'We were all hungover. They ordered a pizza at nine in the morning! I had a car come pick me up.' " Unbelievable. I completely believe him, I think. She's in full-on slut-mode now that she's so marketable and will probably have a (gulp) movie career after "Dukes of Hazzard." But I bet she stays with Nick for at least four-six more months, until they can go to the premiere together, and then let the movie hype die down a little. Then wham-o! Divorce preceedings. The rest of this post will be celeb quotes, so if you're sick of this (me having ruined this week's Star and spoiling all the good parts), abort now. Otherwise, you're in for a fun ride since I also have this cut-out interview from Entertainment Weekly with Corey Haim! It's great; I can't wait, I'll type the best parts right now:
When was Corey Haim at his best? I would say
Lucas. I'm not one of these actors who like, get Method on ya. But for me to turn into a nerd, who is much smarter than he should be and has a different way of looking at life, it was the most Method. That and
Silver Bullet, where I'm paraplegic.
[I've never even heard of
Silver Bullet, but I'm renting it ASAP! Can he rival that guy from "The Sea Inside"?]
Will the Coreys work together again? If we do another movie one day, I just hope there won't be any competition, because there will be none coming from me. I love the kid. To this day, if I call him, he'll be like, "Who's this?" And I'll be like, "Haimster." He's like, "What's up?" "What's up, Feldog?" It's all good.
[no WAY! they call each other Haimster and Feldog?! I'm still laughing, and I've re-read this interview about eight times...he sounds so much like an ex-heroin addict, it's scary--is that what they make you do in rehab besides get you clean? Make you talk in a certain way?]
This quote is from Star: "I wouldn't be attracted to a man who would cheat on his wife."
---ANGELINA JOLIE won't say much about her current love life, except that she has standards.
So true! She keeps spouting the same shit on talk shows, press junkets, magazine interviews, etc, and it's all about how she's secure in her womanhood and would never be attracted to a womanizer. Uh, why hasn't anyone mentioned Billy Bob Thornton, who ditched Laura Dern to be with Angelina Jolie back in whenever they met (that movie "Pushing Tin" maybe?). I think they might have even been engaged when he ditched her. What the fuck? Why is the media having collective selective memory? Is this Brad Pitt thing really that huge? Billy Bob has been married like 45 times and they're not even mentioning him? God.
I'll end with another Star quote, to "celebrate" their recent engagement: "I miss him when he leaves the room. I miss him right now. I love being with him every second of the day."
---KATIE HOLMES apparently can't get enough of her boyfriend Tom Cruise.
Wait, they're dating? Since when?
$6.88 Wham-O Slip N' Slide on sale at Target
After I walked Mulligan this morning (and saw
so many neighbors out--10am on a Saturday, obvious--with whom I had cotton-mouthed conversations and probably looked so booze-houndish), I discovered Katie (slept over last night, on TOP of my mom's neatly arranged bed set-up, i.e. hundreds of unnecessary pillows--thanks Kate, for knowing my mom's psychotic super-mom tendencies) was having a fight on the phone with Ashly, so I grabbed the Tribune and the Suburban Life and went back to lay in my bed. I found the title of today's blog (and tonight's inspiration for a party) in the Target Lowest Prices of the Season!!!! (maybe they didn't use that many exclamations) newspaper insert. So...to get to my point immediately, even though I desperately want to talk about how I think the quality of the Suburban Life has enhanced enormously due to (what I think is) the college journalism students who are home for the summer and got a job at Liberty publishing (Megan Brody is one--is that Brody's sister? Isn't she in college?)--they are actually making articles about arguments at community board meetings interesting! And have pull-quotes that are fun to read! You know they actually have studied the finer points of journalism, which I can't always say about staff writers the rest of the year. Oh, good, I guess I did get to talk about it.
Anyways...I'm writing this with the full realization that no one really reads my blogs, with the exception of Tommy and the Schneider brothers, Dan and Jeff (thanks friends!), and yours truly...however, I do want to have a slip n' slide event tonight. Partially bc I can't figure out how to fucking turn off the sprinkler by myself (you really need two people to do it: one to be on the right side of my house to turn the spigot, and one on the left side to yell when the water is turned off. I've tried to figure out how Mulligan could help me out with this, but...yeah, you see my point, she doesn't talk, at least in English) and I thought either get someone over here to help me turn it off, or make use of the sprinkler and have a par-tay! And when it gets too cold to slip n' slide, we could have a dance party or play rings, since all those who live in the city, be you frat or indie, probably know how to play rings. I know Jason Munchoff and Ben Hoffman do, bc that night you claimed I tried to jump in the fountain in the dead-end of Ashland was also the night we played rings with the mayor's high school friends in my driveway. Pardon me, I forgot I'm trying to consciously call him Le Chris now; the mayor has been retired.
SO: call me if there are no plans, I would love to make use of my empty house tonight since I'm not sure the next time K and R go to the lake. And I have Mulligan with me too, also a rarity if they're gone. She would really like to hang out tonight too; she gets so fucking depressed and all mopey red-eyed every time it looks like I'm going out.
Ooh, good segue into last night: the Barbi/GI Joe party. Big surprise, me, Melissa and Katie were the only real Barbies there who actually dressed up. [Katie as 1950s Glamour Barbie with a vintage cocktail dress and rhinestone jewelry all courtesy of Marian Kwilosz; Melissa as Aerobicized Barbie, in yellow fishnets, tube socks, her mom's white high-top Reeboks, 80s jogging shorts a la Prefontaine and a piece of fabric I got in Rio tied around her forehead as a sweatband; me (again, big surprise here) as Punk Barbie (I don't even know if I've ever seen Punk Barbie, but if they have Earring Magic Ken
and Hip Hop Barbie, they have to have fucking Punk Barbie) with a cotton candy pink bobbed wig I bought in the Hague (I was thinking Natalie Portman in the movie about adultery I can't remember the name of right now), those white mod earrings I wear all the time (basically my outfit was clothes I wear all the time anyway), this one-shoulder magenta sequined halter, my ripped Nelson concert tee over that, tons of cheapo fake beads like the ones they give you in New Orleans when you show your tits (
not why I have them; last time I was there, I was with my parents, who probably wouldn't appreciate me showing my "breasts"--I can imagine my mom saying that), denim miniskirt, hot pink fishnets, these electric blue heels I bought a couple years ago in Florida when I was "mod" for Halloween (again, wearing stuff that I would normally wear), and to top it off, fishnet gloves in hot pink (me and Maura bought these for ourselves and a pair for Katie and Lainey, since we have plans to be Jem and the Holograms for Halloween, with Lainey being a mini-Jem). We all looked so amazing.] But, Katie's cousin Vincey said it was going to be a Barbie HO and GI Joe party, so of course, the Schaumburg/Arlington Heights girls took that to mean: oh, great we can just wear what we wear when we go clubbing at Zero Gravity. Essentially, they all looked like they were at a regular party, wearing what they would wear to one of those. BORING. And slutty, but not even in a cool way. Now we show up as a trio of three real fucking Barbies, with actual themes in mind, and the place was packed, but not very exciting. AND we saw Tino! At the party! Katie was like, "Dad?" And it took him a second (he had to swipe through the boozewebs clouding his eyes) but he was like, "Kate?" Ha ha, father/daughter reunion. Oh and we later got Tino to dance, and do his signature move (can't even attempt to write about it; must be seen in person). So we brought the dance party, and attacked the stereo (cd collection = lame; only notable entry was two House of Pain cds), threw on some MJ, ABBA, and an 80s collection bought from TimeLife or some infomercial. This one guy asked me, when we were smoking on the porch, "You must be from the city! Where'd you get that wig, girl?" Ha ha, loser. I live in my parents' house in La Grange Park; I only
pretend to live in the city. But people in the burbs can't wear wigs too? What the fuck; I'm going to wear that thing to the Jewel next time I go grocery shopping. That was essentially the clientele at the party, save for Vincey, Tino, Katie, Melissa, and me. Then this asshole was rude to Melissa when she accidentally spilled some beer on him and he freaked out, tossing his drink in her face--he was a good shot too, her outfit was completely soaked. Do you
realize dickhead, that we
prepared for this evening in my bedroom with a bottle of wine? And
planned our accessories? All
you had to do was throw on some army cargo pants and you're set. Vincey kicked him out bc as Katie said, we were on the VIP list since we were affiliated with him, but the party was going downhill and we were like, let's peace it. Oh, I haven't heard Anna Picon say that in so long: I'm peacin it. Miss her!
We got back to my house, layed on the floor with Mulligan, then me and Katie passed out. We went out to eat at Cafe Calbay this morning and I tried corn beef hash for the first time: not bad, I understand what all the fuss is about. I don't think it will become part of my morning breakfast order, but at least I know what the fuck it tastes like now. I have three magazines to read and all this mail to open: I can't wait!
But call me if anyone is interested in suburban house party. I think Tommy might be in town? I hope Boomsma is too, heck the whole U of I crowd should be in town, but if you guys did city bars last night, do an LGP rager tonight.
exactly 2 months til my bday (also shared with Davy Crockett and Sean Penn)
I went to see "Batman Begins" last night with Zach after we hung out in Maura's back yard with Matt Holmes, Katie and Maura. I got to hear about the book Matt wrote about carnie life (an allegory he said), which is fiction, but after he wrote it, he actually lived in Australia and traveled with a carnival! He has one of those lives on par with Quentin Tarantino or William S. Burroughs...he's always doing something interesting or quirky or eccentric that make the best stories, but then you realize that's his life! On the way to drop him off, Matt was talking about the contrast between working as a fisherman in Alaska and his current job, fixing railroad cars in a totally unionized atmosphere. If you spit on a railroad worker or talk shit to him, he wouldn't do anything at that moment; he'd wait for a union meeting and then talk about it there. If you spit on a fisherman, Matt said, he'd "cut your balls off." Yikes! Makes sense, though, the isolation and severe sense of autonomy that comes with that lifestyle. I can't wait to read his book about carnies since he needs another pair of eyes before he sends it off to publishers. I hope he still lets me read it since I was throwing around some pretty heavy comments about Hemingway in the car, and both Zach and Matt were like, we
like Hemingway. Whatevs, I do too, in a way, on paper.
Some of his stuff, probably "A Moveable Feast" and not bc I just read it when I was in Paris but bc it actually
is Hemingway; it's his memoir of the life and social scene and poverty and writing circles in Paris. It's not some unnamed narrator or "simple" character who seems to be a voicepiece for Hemingway anyway...I dislike some of his fiction bc on top of dissecting character, you have to de-onionize the prose layer by layer to get at his actual meaning. "AMF" is still meaningful, but seemingly a little more genuine bc it's written in retrospect and he's not being so goddamn pretentious.
Whoa. Anyway...good thing I didn't start talking about Fitzgerald in relation to Hemingway. Another day, another post, I guess. So Zach and I headed to the Quarry and we were already ten minutes late for the movie, but when we got in the theater, we still got to see three previews! I understand that's how movie theaters make a large profit, but the previews are getting a little excessive. I never thought I'd say that, maybe I should be more specific: I love trailers for new movies, but I get annoyed with fandango.com guy and those talking paperbag commercials. Enough! I get that at home on tv, jerk advertisers. "Batman Begins" was...simply amazing. I'm completely re-energized with the Batman franchise (I don't even think I saw the last one with nippleplates and Batgirl, etc.) and on the subject of things I never thought I'd say: I just might prefer Christian Bale to Micheal Keaton. !! Though they both play Batman/Bruce Wayne at different points in their lives, so I think both of them are great. Kilmer? Clooney? A joke store. I was way into "Memento" (not so much "Insomnia" though) when it came out, so I knew Christopher Nolan would exceed expectations. Plus, Gotham city is this weird combo of Chicago+English countryside+London slums or South African shantytowns...very futuristic-looking, almost like "The Fifth Element" or "Bladerunner." I was not expecting that. Plus with Gotham having many Chicago landmarks (bridges over Chicago River, lower Wacker, Tribune tower, among many others), I kept getting excited that Batman was redeeming
our city! Crazy, I know, but I love those parts in movies when it's a sequence of people coming together to clean up an old junkyard (and in one day, turn it in to a beautiful thriving garden!), set to a song that's usually featured on the soundtrack--I always feel like humanity is justified and everything in the world is right. Even if it's in a movie about drugs, like in "Blow" when Johnny Depp and that enormous guy from "Boy Meets World" and "American History X" first start their drug transportation, I think it's set to the song "black betty." Love it. Actually, I thought it was strange how much of this "Batman" centered around the dangerous effects of hallucinogens...so much so, that at one point in the movie, Batman is trying to save the whole city from a bad trip. Now I know those kids who are like,
whoa did you see "Spirited Away" (or insert any movie here)
while you were high? Dude, so much more came out--I swear the director was stoned when he made it. Sometimes I see movies when I'm stoned and remember nothing; like when I went to see "I heart Huckabees" with my parents. I barely remembered I saw it, and Maura had to remind me. But other times I'll see movies stoned and I can't stop making bizarre connections and being in love with film as a genre and then wanting to be a movie critic or screenplay writer. "Batman" was specifically about drugs, but I could just imagine being at a party and hearing some fuck-up in the corner turn to his friend and say, "Dude, did you see the new Batman? It's totally about tripping! And like kids and shit are on acid!" Bottomline, this isn't as gothic as Tim Burton's Gotham...which I thought I preferred, but Christopher Nolan put an interesting stamp on the Batman story. I read that he and screenwriter did so much research into Batman (comics, movies, cartoons, etc.) that they essentially holed up in a New York apartment with stacks of books and became huge comic book nerds. I'm glad, bc I thought the screenplay was brilliant, the over-arching themes, the connections to earlier and later Batman/Bruce Wayne...even the Batman calling card he gives to Commissioner Gordon. There's two more with Christian Bale, and I'm obsessed with this cast (especially Michael Caine as Alfred).
Okay, well, that was fun. Now I can't wait to see the last installment in George Romero's zombie movies that comes out on June 24. I think. Also, "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory." Also, "Layer Cake." I could keep going I guess; I can't believe this was the first movie I've seen in the theater in two or three months. I'm kind of nervous to see Romero..I was way creeped out by the Scarecrow in "Batman." I was even scared of the Scarecrow when he was in the cartoon. I think it dates back to an early "Tales from the Crypt" episode I saw over at the Faydash's house one summer (maybe 8, 9 years old?) that had Patricia Arquette as this somewhat mentally disturbed girl who is held prisoner on this farm (and nearly raped by the farmer; the wife didn't like her bc the farmer was attracted to Patricia Arquette and she made her life a living hell), but she has this bizarro relationship with the scarecrow out in the fields. She called him her "man" and the whole time, you're like, is he real? is he not? What the fuck, Cryptkeeper? What does this tale mean? Me and Maureen watched so many episodes of that show (we used to love the intro, and to imitate the cackle he does at the end when the coffin opens), the majority of which we knew were scary but didn't totally understand. I loved that the Cryptkeeper always told the worst corny jokes at the beginning, like if it was about a ventriloquist he would say, "You'll really lose your head over the ending of this tale!" Or some shitty pun like that my dad would make up. Maybe zombies will be easier to watch?
I'm thinking of having a house party tonight, but not sure if there's any interest. I might be going to Schaumburg for a barbie/GI joe party, but want to have people over too. Dilemma!
who moved my cheese? is weird
I'm at work and completely one-woman-ing the front counter. Thus, I haven't had a lot of time to fuck around on the computer. I guess it's important to actually do my job occasionally. I have lots to say, as to be expected, but I think I post a little too much wordage so I'm trying not to be so excessive in my prose. Maybe I should get a chapter blog? Do those exist yet? They should.
We use old calendars as scratch paper at Anderson's since we're constantly writing book titles, ISBNs, phone numbers, etc. down. Today's scratch paper was the 2005 calendar of
Who Moved My Cheese? I remember hearing about that book so frequently a few years ago, I figured there must be
something to the hype behind this self-help book. But I was still mystified by the title: an allegory of some sort? Just a funny story the book starts out with? I never found out until today, bc ever since I got here this morning, I keep seeing these bizarre cartoon characters on the page. Then I looked more closely and actually read the quotes; some were inspirational and well-known (or said by well-known people) but then the guy who wrote
Who Moved My Cheese? inserted his own cheese-centric advice. Here are some, and you're welcome to take a gander at hypothesizing the meaning...I realize it's summer and that's essentially a very school-ey thing to ask, but it's almost too strange to resist.
"every empty Cheese Station you encounter brings you closer to Cheese Station N. even bits and nibbles of New Cheese are better than the Old, moldy Cheese of Cheese Station C. "
[editor's note : I did NOT insert this capitalization; it has some weird symbolic meaning but I have no idea what]
Here's another fun one, this time in story form: "Haw [?] spotted another Cheese Station and became excited as he noticed little pieces of New Cheese near the entrance. They were types of Cheese he had never seen before, but they looked great. He ate most the New Cheese bits that were available and put a few in his pocket to have later and perhaps share with Hem [ahhh, I see]. He entered the Cheese Station with great excitement. But to his dismay, he found it was empty."
I am almost more confused after reading these little "niblets" of
Who Moved My Cheese? than I was when I only knew the title. How was this a best-seller? Is this a way of living, like the Atkins Diet? I wish I could post the pictures of Hem and Haw, and then there is a mouse eating a piece of cheese (excuse me,
Cheese) on a plush red sofa.
The only other thing of importance to mention is that I talked with Sean Wilsey yesterday when he read from his memoir, "Oh the Glory of it All." He is co-founder of McSweeney's (with Dave Eggers--can you tell they're friends?) and this is his first book, one I found in the basement of Anderson's as an advanced copy and I picked it up simply bc the title and the cover caught my eye. Now I can't imagine not having read it. Or I wonder what YourUP (I heard Lainey pronounce it the other day, and her emphasis is definitely on the "up" in Europe) would have been like had I not been reading it while I was there. Completely fate that I figured out he was going to be at Barbara's on tour, and that my first copies of the Eckerd Review arrived two days prior so that I could bring one to him. I hope I hear something from him, not even a "let's get you signed with RandomHouse, girlfriend!" but just a hello.
holy shit, a boy was just hit by a car out front of Anderson's and there's tons of police cars and I can't stop crying! What the fuck! I've never been that close to an accident before, especially a kid. I don't want to type anymore today.
my first blog ever
I know I keep writing about me being a new blogger blah blah, but really, I tried once already. It was at Myspace.com, an invite I got from my friend Larry at Anderson's so that we could send each other trivia quizzes at work (he works in children's at the back of the store, I'm in adult at the front--otherwise we could only communicate in morse code or hand signals). The things I do like about Myspace is the template to design your own page are way cool, lots of bands have their own blogs (like Death From Above 1979, and today I saw that Billy Corgan--!?!--has a blog on Myspace, I wonder what the fuck he writes about. Well, I guess I could find out), and there are a lot of options of things you can do (blog, email, etc). However, my main qualm with Myspace is the friend-counting. Maybe I'm just being paranoid, but I think it's weird to count your friends, especially online friends, half of whom may not exist in the form you think they do (i.e. your cool friend "Elise" might be 33 year old part-time janitor Ed who lives in his parents basement--wait,
I still live with my parents, not in the basement, but still!). And I really haven't been putting a lot of time into the Myspace thing, so everytime I visit it, which isn't very, I always have two friends. I feel like I'm at the gradeschool lunchroom table, bartering my pb sandwich for friends:
guys, I know I'm cool! Just gimme a chance! So I'm kind of not caring too much about Myspace since I've found free cheapo blogger. BUT here was the first entry I ever did:
Monday, April 11, 2005
how very
Holy crap, I can't believe I'm actually doing this. I feel so lame, and yet I'm kind of excited and terrified. It's strange to write when you're not quite sure who your audience is. Like a glorified diary, but you're consciously aware that others are looking at it. I was obsessed with diarying (there I go making up words again) when I was younger, I have literally hundreds of spirals filled in code about junior high happenings, who wore my Gap shirt, etc. It was all crap really, but I thought it was very incredibly important. It may be a bad idea that I'm starting to blog, especially with no set topic in mind; I could basically write to myself all day. I guess I'm a pretty sucky writing graduate, I barely ever do it. Except when I have these bursts of desire to write, and I do, in various forms, and then it kind of fizzles out again. So I may never write on this blog again, or maybe in like two months I will. I'm at my store right now, and oh yes, I do own it. My operating title is CSE, coordinator of social events, which for those who don't know, is a pretty high-profile position. That means I made a rad flyer in the style of precious moments and am forcing everyone at my store to meet for drinks at a pub on Thursday night. I think it should be fun. Hopefully, we'll all get sauced and argue about books. Right now, I'm reading this book about prep school that appropriately enough, has one of those preppy J. Crew-ish belts on the front, those pastel stripes that look straight out of mid-80s Izod? I wonder if this is what prep school is truly like. I realize the amount of liberties taken with fiction, but there must be some degree of reality. I think about my friend Anna's experiences, after she was kicked out public school, when she went to boarding school and used to drop acid at soccer practice and go on crazy adventure runs with her team. HOw is that possible? Oh, I was also reading the latest Rolling Stone mag and it's centerpiece is a "children of rock legends" story. A major interview was with Jerry Garcia's daughter (with some one-named hippy like Moondance or something) and she was talking about how her parents' friends basically tripped while doing everything, like cooking spaghetti or whatevs, so it was such a chill, natural experience, none of the "dudeman, the walls are waving in rainbow colors" business you probably see at prep school. Daughter Garcia also was friends with Tupac during her rebellious phase of high school, and she had him over for a giant house party when her dad was away. Jerry didn't even confront her about the damage done to their house; he wrote her a note that said, "if you're going to have people over, please limit it to under five hundred" or something to that effect. Hah hah, a Tupac house party. So I just realized that no one can read this blog unless you're part of myspace, and since I only know Larry, I basically am writing to myself. I'm going to test it on Will and see if he can get here.
Oh, I just realized I typed that at the computer at Anderson's and yesterday Don was like, you better "blog" while you can bc this computer is getting taken out of here. And I told him I was probably responsible for that, but we both know that the people who work at night surf the internet all shift long. All right, well, I have a ton of errands to run today: copy place, Hobby Lobby (!), maybe I'll go get a manicure with kim in dt LG. Maybe I'll post again later. Kind of weird that I already know I could (how do I have this much to write about?!).
DAY 2 of blogging: already had my first annoying experince
God, Day 2 started out fantastically (and pretty much ended fantastically too, aside from this one minorly shitty thing that happened), with me in getting to drive to work...!! I've been so used to bumming rides from Rog lately or having to negotiate for a car anytime I need to do something (I end up having to consolidate errands into one general vicinity so I can get the most possible done so I won't have to ask for the car again for a couple days...me legs ben workin jus foine since Yourup 05). I feel sixteen again. Minus the crushes-from-afar-on-upperclassmen (sigh) and neuroses over some girl wearing the same shirt I had on the same day I wore it. But bonus was it was the jeep...!...grand sound system (compared to the mazda 626 ghetto-rigged six cd changer in the trunk I used to deal with)...!...leather interior! I was totally a rich-bitch on my way to work, especially driving through Hinsdale. I love driving through gaps in the income bracket, like going from Hinsdale into Downers Grove, where suddenly there are discount korean markets and tattoo (world-famous!) parlors along Odgen. So I brought a New Order disc with me bc I'm essentially obsessed with NO/Joy Division (again) but I swear it feels different this time around. I guess I'm still thinking about London and how normal I felt in my music tastes, with their punk/New wave/electronic/rocker roots. Like why did I start re-listening to all my old Bon Jovi and Guns N Roses tapes suddenly in my sophomore of high school? Then branch out to the double-disc of Monsters of Rock (which I did purchase from timelifemusic.com I think, or maybe off a late-night infomercial, I won't lie) and eventually hair metal in general? This was when fucking Puff Daddy was sampling and making shitty (but guiltily delicious) remakes ("I'll Be Missin You" etc) and I wanted to kill myself that this was what was played at LT pep rallies. So I was a loser who listened to hair metal religiously, but occasionally I would throw in some Chris-influenced ganster rap (a la Crucial Conflict, Bone, Nas, Tupac, NWA, etc.) so I felt somewhat current. This was when he thought he was black. Now he just
wishes he were black. Now 80s is "cool" again, but what the fuck? It's not a fad for me, I think I worship Bloc Party right now so much because the drumming sounds so much like New Order, and sometimes Joy Division, and the dance beat is like straight out of Kraftwerk. But whatevs, what was my point? My brain is kind of fried from nine-letter speed Scrabble. Will did throw "acre" out there and I had to question how to pronounce it (I was looking at it sideways though, if that helps my case for being retarded at all). Okay, so I brought NO in the car with me, not even an old disc, one from 2001-ish which is still semi-recently in terms of their longevity and listened to this song, #3 "turn my way" I think, that I used to listen to my last semester of college when I had to write my thesis and life sucked, kind of, but was alternatingly exciting. More boredom though, and crazy writer's frustration. But this is among my fav lines of any NO/JD song: "I don't wanna be like other people are, don't wanna own a key, don't wanna wash my car. Don't wanna have to work like other people do. I want it to be free, I want it to be true." Kind of cheesy and gay I know but I love it. This was when I was subsconsciously freaked out about graduating and leaving the fucked up-ness of college, which was secure in a bizarre way. I had no idea how to be nervous though: do I update my resume? Make contacts for jobs? Etcetera etcetera college career center brochure. Instead, I decided to do lots of speed and acid. Oh actually, when I was reading Erich's story about that insane caddy on the PGA tour, I thought of this kid at school that everyone called Rave Dave bc he was always on some substance or other. I bet even his professors called him Rave Dave; no one ever referred to him by his first name only. He was one of those people on campus who had attained mythic status bc of his fucked up-ness. You know the type, ol double name that everyone in your friend group (and beyond) refers to bc of one retarded incident or drunken night. I used to run into him at parties and he'd corner you for a while, telling crazy stories about his life as a poor rich raver kid/philosophizing/verbally spewing hundreds of ideas until YOU were tired of following his points. He's probably dead, in jail, in rehab, or living in Zurich, Switzerland right now. And honestly, I would not be surprised if any of those options turned out to be reality. I would be sad, bc he was just the most pitiful thing to listen to, all his stories of a weird life for a smart kid who grew up too fast (imagine that in the voice of the guy who does summer movie blockbuster trailers...Do I possibly have a screenplay for Project Greenlight?). And, he used to liquid dance unconsciously (or consciously? you never really knew) while he talked to you, if there was music there or not. His hands would just keep moving and in my head, I was like, is he in a rave inside
his mind? Whaaaatt? kooky, to say the least. He kind of reminded me of RDJ in "Less Than Zero."
BUT..hearing that song reminded me that time in my life, when I was so scared of "real life" and "resumes" and "networking" and whatevs, all that; didn't realize that I already was participating in real life and that just bc I had a college degree didn't mean shit; life still went on for everyone else around me. So when I would listen to this song and sit on my floor, re-arranging sentences and commas and words (god, I feel annoyed just thinking about that again!), listening to this song, it was like my big F-U to the world (stupid, I know). But I would think to myself, NO didn't really "grow up;" they kept doing what they were doing and making records while maintaining their original sound, just adapting it as time went on. Listening to it now, it kind of makes me empathetic for myself at that point in my life, like heart-string tug,
oh! I could probably map out my life, kind of like I think Nick Hornby does (or maybe he just lists his favorite songs?), according to what music was playing. Vacations are a definite. For ex: our fam trip to Ireland in 92 was when Chris has discovered Soul Asylum and
Grave Dancers Union and we listened to that tape over and over (I think that was when it came out, maybe 93 though? "Runaway Train" was on heavy rotation). I remember my mom being like, who is this? in her totally dorky mom way, like we could have said Sinead O'Connor and she would have been like,
ooohhhhh. But CJS told her the name and she said, hmmm...interesting name for a band. Do you know what "ayslum" means? Both me and Chris had no idea. I could do that for almost every vacation in my memory, which I'm not sure is bizarre or cool. Maybe that just's how my brain works.
Okay, I better get quickly to why this day was great--I could be here all night. So I got to go back to my store, and be surrounded by books again and though I've been out of the loop for six weeks, it all came back pretty well. After a few times of the antiquated computer hissing/beeping at me every time I forgot my password and id number to type in before each transaction. But so many ten year old boys (and under) were coming in and buying "Revenge of the Sith" books, etc. I got so excited, I'm not even that much of a big Star Wars fan but my dad and brother were when we were little, and thus I had R2D2 and C3PO underwear. I haven't seen the last installment yet, so I was taking a poll of these kids, like should I see it IMAX-style or regular theater? One kid said IMAX-style; this was his favorite movie of the whole series and when I said even "Return of the Jedi?" He said, very basically like a ten(ish) year old boy will do, " 'Sith' had more siths, like evil guys. And 'Jedi' had more jedis, the good guys." Which totally makes sense in my mind. But then some other kid told me to see it regular-style (his dad said
he was going to watch it "home on the couch-style, with a DVD and cheaper popcorn") so I'm at a loss. I don't even know if I want to see it. I know I'm seeing "Willy Wonka" regular. But I kind of want to see "Lords of Dogtown" IMAX, even though I know it's not as intensely sporty/skateboardy as the orignal documentary. Plus, I found out that this woman at my work, Carmel, has a daughter engaged to the lead singer of a Chicago punk band (but they're vegan and totally straight-edge!) called Rise Against, and she told me today that they make a blink-it appearance in "LOD" as Black Flag. !! She also recommened Deluxe tattoo shop on the North Side to get my tattoo finished since her other daughter used to work there. Carmel is way cool and I love that she completely accepts her daughters' punk-ness, and goes to shows to support Rise Against. If
I was in a hardcore band, guarantee my mom wouldn't attend a show, especially if there were evident signs of binge-drinking everywhere. "Um, Sar, are those crushed Old Milwaukee cans on the ground? I think someone put a cigarette out on my brown sandal and I do not appreciate the tar emulating from their breath." So work ruled, all day, I was buzzed on coffee and offering probably way too many recommendations about books, but it was kind of exciting to still know what the hell I was talking about after being away for six weeks. Then my mom called and told me that I got a package from my old professor, Jay Nicorvo, and inside were all these copies of the Eckerd Review, essentially me being published for the first time! I was ecstatic when I got home and couldn't even listen to the questions my parents were asking me about the contributors; I was obsessed with finding out what kind of font they used, and the size they printed my thesis. I'm such a nerd. A word nerd! The worst kind! So I'm still really jazzed about that, and I'm listening to Bloc Party right now this very minute and I kind of want to start dancing, I swear! But I think everyone in my house is asleep though. I have headphones on so I don't disturb the roomie, who is currently twitching on the floor like she's having one of those chasing dreams. Which I would guess are the same all the time? I mean, is she having a dream like humans have dreams? Why else would her paws be seizuring at random moments? It's kind of funny to watch though.
I might have to drive to Skokie tomorrow to get a loan from my stupid small Niles Township Credit Union, attached to my dad's old Dist. 68 administration building. I think I want to sneak in the backway so I don't have to say hi to his old secretaries and co-workers! I need a loan to pay off the credit card bill, installment #1 from Eurotrip! To be followed by hopefully only one or two other bills, then I'm done. {fingers crossed}
If I get that done, I'm going to a pool or my sprinkler or somewhere, and possibly crafting if I have time. I'm completely in craft-mode lately, after the boys I babysat last night and tonight (and my assistance/plotline input) made a comic book called "The Dragon Chronicles Book 1: Bad Dragons Attack!" This is essentially a six part series (like Star Wars, John, the middle kid at 6 told me) and though we haven't completed Book Two, we anticipate the title "Book 2: Revenge of the Good Dragons." I kind of want to figure out how to download pictures tomorrow so I can show you this comic book, featuring Lava and Flame, best friend (boy) dragons who are rich with gold and guns (of course) as well as the possession of a crystal that gives them unlimited power (I did not make any of this up; they dictated to me and I was the font-maker--cursive, bold, art deco, bubble letters, anything--and they drew the pictures). Totally awesome illustrations, and I'm obsessed with it. Even if there are Ambigously Gay Duo-undertones, it's still a pretty rad story with unbelievably accurate pictures (I mean anatomically correct dragons). I'll try to figure out how to do it.
Yikes! 207am! Maybe it's not such a good idea if I got a blog...
PS the annoying thing in my title references the power failure we had for two seconds at work today during the middle of an intense thunderstorm, and typically, I lost a super-long entry I'd been writing in between working. I know, I know, save frequently to avoid losing data. Whoops.
But after writing all this other wonderful stuff that happened to me today, I kind of don't care anymore.
P.S. I feel like I'm on "lowered expectations"
Did anyone see that MadTV episode about a dating show for people who are ugly, weird, or anything else not very match-maker friendly? I just finished typing in all this other unnecessary blogger sign-up info bc I like the sound my fingers and manicured nails typing on my laptop--loser!--and found things that confused me despite the blog-speak for retards. What is a team? Why are there teams of bloggers? Are you
supposed to meet up and play softball, or is that just people I know? If anyone knows what I'm referencing, please help me out. Oh, to the point: when I saw my "profile," I felt like such a NERD! A true nerd. Someone who joins matchmaker.com or goes to the grocery store at peak times bc they hope to meet someone! I wish they didn't put that I'm the year of the dog, and that I'm a Leo. That is so '70s-pick-up-line-while-rollerskating-at-studio-54. All right, that's really it.
so full of stuff today, I virtually HAD to get a stupid blog
EEK! I still am shocked I did it. I can't call other people bloggers now, bc I AM one. Okay, I won't let it define my life, but I had such a delightfully fantastic day (and I did almost want to insert more adjectives in there, it was just
that good) that my goal after I arrived home tonight to trusty old laptop was 1) stop posting on other peoples' blogs, just get your fucking own, you baby; and 2) needing an outlet bc too much happened today that my brain will exhaust itself if I try to rely on "memory"--which I don't have too much of anymore for various reasons.
Before I start, I want to explain my 1) weird URL address; and 2) the title of my blog. I figured if Will can pick an obscure word as his URL and doesn't get too much shit for it, as long as I had a reason, I can call it any goddamn thing I want. Actually, I didn't have a reason until I was forced into picking a completely bizarro (i.e. foreign) word; I tried to do my initials, then variations on my own name, but the Blogger rejected all of these. ?? So we arrive at:
einfuhlung, which is a German (hooray, Marcus, I actually KNOW a German and he might marry Maura!) translation of the word empathy. I got this from a book my mom was reading in Paris, then Grimaud, and now that she's finished with it, I can't wait to start it. It's called Field Notes on the Compassionate Life by Mark Ian Barasch. Now, normally I shun any book my mom tries to get me to read, primarily bc of her profession(s) as a psychologist/teacher/CEO group facilitator (?yeah, that last one is awkward, I just have no idea what her actual title is?). I have a shelf full of Our Bodies, Ourselves; Finding Out What You Want & HOW to Get it; and Loving What Is, all of which I have only browsed through, mostly bc I feel obligated to. Granted, the human psyche and personal relationships are her forte, but that's just not my area of interest, especially when I pick up a book. I know these things are covered in literature anyways, 22 years full of "woman-y stuff" giftings, and I know where my taste lies--not there. But I want to quote from this book bc it's essentially what I want to say, someone just said it first and better:
[Einfuhlung]...a term coined in 1903 by a student of aesthetics named Theodore Lipps. He was searching for a way to express the strangely intimate emotional connection that arises between a viewer and an onstage performer. He used the example of watching an acrobat stepping across a high wire, that moment of breathless suspension when audience members gasp as if they themselves were teetering on a tightrope; the sense of, as Lipps described it, "I feel myself inside of him." Lipps defined empathy as an "inner participation...in foreign experiences." Cognitive scientists refer to this ability to read another's feelings, thoughts, or intentions as a "theory of mind." --p40
I love that his name is Lipps, and I love this idea, bc this is where I feel like I am at this point in my life. I know, I know, Eurotrip, blah blah...but honestly, I have never felt this level of intense emotion in my whole life. And I love it! I'm obsessed with it. I know it can't last forever (I don't even know if it has to do with medication, planetary alignment, alcoholism, post-travel wanderlust, etc.) but I know I want to remember feeling this way for the rest of my life. So that's why I'm blogging. Not really for anyone else, though it is incredibly fun to read other peoples' and post and whatevs, but something has been happening with me lately that I can't stop thinking and I can't stop writing. So I'm going with it.
As far as why I named it what I did, here is one of the great things that happened to me today. Maura, TK (Mr. Kwilosz) and their friend John came and picked me up at the apartment of Le Chris and Dave (double redheads! yowza!), bc I was stuck there and had to get home [more on this part of my day later]. We dropped Maura off at her sister and brother-in-law's new house, and me, TK and John drove to LGP(La Grange Park? I feel like Ben Hoffman right now: no time to waste, everything must be shortened to acronyms!) in the Kwilosz's new (ish) Ford Explorer they just bought. The guy who had it before them left all his cds in there, a lot of good eclectic mix cds of totally mismatching songs. I heard the beginnings of Van Halen and I was like, oh leave this! Needless to say, they weren't too into listening to VH. Completely understandable...for them. It turned out to be a whole cd, and TK tossed it back at me, saying I could have it. AND it wasn't just a mix cd but the best of Van Halen, vol. 1, a disc I've wanted forevs but never got around to buying it or asking for it to be burned. !! I almost died. So, this dropped into my lap today and I've been listening to this cd all day. Realization #1: if I lived as a trash-whore groupie on the Strip in the mid-to-late 80s and could potentially marry any metal rocker (bc I'm just that slutty and into hairspray), here is who it would be. On the basis of musicianship, no one ELSE even comes close to Eddie Van Halen. I almost pissed myself in the car today listening to his completely recognizable guitar intros, and yes, I was air-guitaring. Which sucks, bc I totally have NO idea how to play. I'm starting to look pretty convincing though. Maybe Air Guitar Nat'l Championship 2006? We'll see.
However, he looks like a human version of Gollum. I know he's older now and has had pancreatic cancer, etc., but yikes, he wasn't even down the street from good-looking in Van Halen's prime. And who wants to compete with David Lee Roth? Exactly. But Eddie got (and lost) Valerie Bertinelli, so plus fifty for him. If I am marrying someone on fuckability, it would be Sebastian Bach of Skid Row. He's not so much a rocker, nor even metal, but he had really fucking long hair, knew how to belt a love ballad, and wore lots of tight leather pants (hottt!). Don't forget, I'm still trash-whore groupie circa '87 so I'm betting I marry Sebastian and go to Van Halen concerts still. BTW, I DO know where Sebastian Bach is today, so please don't remind me again of his embarrassing descent towards Ricki Lake and marijuana legislation. I guess if they could be combined into one person, that would be my ideal! But, until hybridization of humans comes into being, I'll have to settle with marrying a normal, with faults. Or skip my birth control pills "accidentally" and trap him into marriage, bc we all know that's what girls
want to do, right Tommy? So I'm way into Van Halen...right now...again. And I didn't mean to reference the song, so sorry if the Crystal Pepsi commerical is running through your head.
Uh oh, this is turning out to be one very long blog post. I might have to do more tomorrow at work, if it's not too busy and I can sneak using the computer for non-bookstore-related things. I.e. emailing, blogging, shopping online, googling random shit. Oooh, I can't wait to do all of those things tomorrow and be back in my store! I'm going to sign off now, bc I just got a fucking drool hit from my roomie Mulligan who basically is waiting for to go to sleep so she can pass out. You didn't think you'd get through this post without one mention of Mulligan, did you? Ah hah hah, I'll probably mention her in at least every one of my blogs, sometimes multiple times.
oh here is something "final" that also sums things up nicely for me:
"We write to taste life twice."
--Anais Nin
byeeeee
