Yesterday I texted him and said, "while I am unable to speak in words feeling 4 u, I am able to express it physically." And he responded, "Then I think I know how you feel..."
I didn't respond because really, I don't know how that is possible because I don't always know how I feel. Making it even more difficult is the fact that I don't always feel the same way.
There's this song by Sebadoh, Think (Let Tomorrow Bee):
Think (Let Tomorrow Bee) Lyrics
It's a song I've sent to other lovers. It's sort of like my penoir set. And yet... while I think it's time to buy new lingerie, Lou Barlow sums up my self-conscious and questioning nature nicely.
Yes. Love is the elephant in the room. But what color it is, what I'm going to do with it, and whether it's figured out how to apparate are entirely different matters. Today, tho... a line from the poem, Song, by Allen Ginsberg is repeating ad infinitum through my head:
"No rest without love, no sleep without dreams of love"
But I digress.
There's so much to share with you that is entirely un-related to the beloved boy y.
How is it possible it's only been a week since I last posted? Seems like a lifetime.
Okay, so the week before last was a rough one. I mentioned that I worked hard. Truly, I marketed my little heart out. People think of marketing as conceptual, right? You don't think of it as nitty-gritty, in the trenches, direct contact with your targets. Well, that's not always so. I was, in fact, in the trenches. Suffering the bombs and bullets of direct contact while praying for victory. At the end of the week, all my hard work paid off. I had two events that were full enough to viably run. I was the happiest girl in the world. Exhausted, but elated.
Experimental Tuesday of that week was... one of the best since the first piece I saw. The first piece was almost viral, I've never forgotten it. The speech, the colors - it didn't evoke much feeling but as a piece of art it evoked my love of aesthetics for aesthetics's sake. Nazuna, by Hitoshi Toyoda, managed that feat - and I'll tell you why it was a feat. This was not a film I went to see. It was a slideshow. An honest to goodness slideshow. So honest, that there was a scaffold set up in the back rows of the theatre which I watched the artist climb up to and load, reload, and reload again the merry-go-round. Still photos, a progression of still photos evoked tears from me. Amazing.
It started off inauspiciously. I've developed this allergy. To 9-11. Every time someone mentions it, every time it turns out to be a theme in a book I'm reading, every time the imagery from that day passes through my ocular web... I cringe. I turn away. There is a chain reaction inside my being that screams, "NOooooooooo! Not again! Stop it already!" It's sort of the way I feel about anything having to do with World War II. I'm tired of it.
Toyoda's slideshow began in New York. A few days before 9-11. It takes you through that day and then, mercifully, on a plane to Japan. We follow Toyoda as he goes home for the first time in 11 years. To Tokyo. Then to the mountains where he searches for a mythical group of Japanese Amish. Then to a Zen Monastery. And through the death of his mother. It was stunning. And I loved it.
The following Saturday the sky in Wisconsin exploded and the first flurry of serious snow hit the ground in Milwaukee. I decided this would be the perfect time to try out a recipe I'd seen in the Vegetarian Times. I've never made risotto before because it is an intimidatingly time and energy-consuming dish to attempt. But the recipe for Radicchio and Plum Tomato Risotto was too tempting to pass up. I was waiting for beloved boy y to come over, we'd planned to hibernate and to that end I'd rented 2046 and breathless and endeavored the risotto, bought wine. He was finishing up some things at work and running terribly late. I had no sooner gotten to the final, most delicate stage of preparation (the 1/2 cup addition and stir stage) when he arrived. Within minutes a series of text messages reminded him that a group called Korporate Media was premiering their series of shorts at the Hide House in Bay View. So I quickly finished the risotto, changed into something noteworthy and dashed with him out the door. We'll not discuss the terms of our transport but we made it in just enough time. We'd only missed one, most likely because we couldn't find the room and wasted some time dashing about the building. It was totally worth the rush and arrival-mishaps. Korporate Media is a hilarious group of geeks who produced an incredibly funny series of shorts. I highly recommend checking them out.
With the both of my events running last week, I was a whirling dervish. For any of you who've done event planning you know the "on the road dog n' pony show" event is probably the most energy-draining. I schlepped, I networked, I smiled, I trouble-shot, I did it all. The first event went over beautifully. The presenter was happy, the attendees were happy, and I was happy. Awesome. The second? Well, it was a bit of a comedy of errors. Presenter? Late. Attendees? Thin on the ground. Technology? Temperamental. None of this was my fault, but it's the stress it causes that tips the scales.
But...
I had originally decided to take a half day on Friday. But I need new tires like a body mod addict needs a new hole so I took the whole day so I could drive down to Farm n' Fleet on the south side, hoping to buy and have new tires mounted all in a morning's rush to get down there before 8:30. I waited in line with a group of middle aged white guys. Sore thumb effect, definitely. But there was tire sale on, and apparently Farm n' Fleet's Automotive division is operating half-staffed so it seemed it wasn't to be. Still, I stood around and chatted about technology, the changing workplace, prostate cancer with a couple of guys who worked respectively for Allen Bradley (back in it's heyday - the man was retired now) and Quad Graphics. Nice guys. It was nice to have someone to talk to. They thanked me as I left when it was discovered they'd lied to me on the phone. Not only did they give me the wrong price but they didn't even have my tires in stock. But I got a "Rain Check" which means I'll still get the sale price - buy 3 get one free. And with the price of tires for my car being quite high, this is a deal I can live with.
But the reason I'd decided to take a half day was so that my sister and I could journey down to Chicago to see a new exhibition at the MCA. I'm a member there and I don't think I've been back in the 3 years since I joined when my former Dutch lover came last to visit me. But this exhibition sounded too good to miss. An artist named Sara Schnadt was mapping search networks as they related to geographic locations. Plus, it was a First Friday. T2 and I have always wanted to go to one of those but we've never been able to work it into our schedules. And it was FABULOUS! I loved it! I need to go again. We hopped a train and then a CRAZY crowded bus. Chicago at rush hour is incredible. It was such a mad rush to see that many people out in the streets at night like that. I was totally exhilarated. We walked around near Michigan Ave, looking for a place to grab food and an ATM and found this little place called L'Appetit. An Italian bistro-deli type joint. Delicious sandwiches and cookies. After that we found the MCA, tucked away in it's little corner near Lake and Chicago Ave.
The exhibition was... well, less than I'd hoped it would be. But then, I only saw it being constructed, I'd like to go back and see the finished piece. Because while T2 made arrangements to stay in Chicago for the weekend, I had planned to head back on the last train. Forgetting that the last train in so goddamned early. I only got to stay at the MCA for like, an hour and half. But in that time, T2 and I got our picture snapped in a little attendee photo shoot after an MCA employee dragged us out of the crowd. And I got to see their more permanent exhibition of Japanese and Brazilian takes on American Rock n' Roll. Which was awesome. They'd dragged out Andy Warhol footage of Lou Reed, John Cale, and Nico. There were little rooms where little films were showing - The Spirit Girls film piece was probably my favorite oddity from that bunch.
It was an awesome, inspiring experience that I hope I can repeat. But I've made this mistake before. Most notably when I went to meet Beth and Anna. So, I think this time I've learned my lesson. Get down there on a Friday night, make sure to make arrangements to stay.
I suffered for it. I'm sick as a dog (heh, accidentally typed "god" first. heh.) right now. I think that's been creeping up on me all week. But it was so worth it. It's a crazy life and I love it when I get to run around and see cool things.
Anyway, I've given you all enough to digest. Muchos lovas to all y'all!
Friday, December 7, 2007
Saturday, December 1, 2007
Trans-Orbital Torture
Last Christmas I remember driving out to T2's boyfriend's mother's house for Christmas eve dinner. It's kind of a haul, way out in the styx of a far-flung suburb. I was listening to a Sound Portraits piece on Howard Dully, who had had the misfortune of having the "Trans orbital Lobotomy." It was an amazing piece. I got lost in farm country looking for Ms. Boyfriend's Mother's house, which I think was unconsciously intentional. It was an NPR driveway moment, only I kept moving.
I mention this because last night I felt as though somehow, during the two hours I slept on Thursday night, someone snuck into my apartment and performed this procedure on me. All day Friday I felt out of sorts and over-caffeinated. I was up, up, up all afternoon at work. Chatty, excitable. It's been another tough week but mostly from the perspective of how very, very hard I worked. It's paying off, but I just have to hope that it pays off enough to make a go of things. If you believe in that stuff, pray for me. You never know what might tip the balance of the universe ;)
So, after a long day of working to make it work I had intended to go home and nap. I had tried to entice the beloved to come and nap with me, but I was unsuccessful. We'd planned to meet up but I had a feeling that beloved, being in the same sleep-deprived position as me, would end up falling asleep and miss out on the evening's goings-on. And I would be disappointed to find I was right. I laid down around 6, hoping to blank myself out and recharge my batteries for at least a half hour. But my phone kept "sonnez, sonnez, sonnez" begging my attention. So when the sister-person "sonnez-ed" me and begged me to come to an event her museum was hosting because no one had showed up, I gave up the nap. I put on a beautiful outfit.
Like, serious.
There's this dress that I've had for years. I've always loved it but never quite known how to wear it. It's a billowy baby-doll type-thing that taken by itself, obscures my lovely figure. And I've had the idea to belt it, but never had the right belt. So, needing tights last night I ran over to Moxie (Entertaining sidenote: on my way there, I ran into Mr. Houdini. I wouldn't have noticed him, but he called out to me. He gave me a huge, wonderful hug which took me off my feet - literally. I was glad to smile at him again.) where I found not only the perfect tights, but also the perfect belt. So picture this: deep wine-y red velvet short dress with three-quarter length split sleeves and arrow-shaped pin tucks at the neckline, chiffon ruffles along the collar and sleeves. Belted with a deep wine-y red leather belt with a silver circlet buckle. Silver and garnet earrings, vintage silver bracelet. Deep wine-y red tights and grey leather boots. Gorgeous.
So, I went to the museum-thingie. It's called Allis After Hours and they have wine and food and a band. This event was their "Autumn Equinox" event. And when I got there, there were tons of people. I silently cursed my sister. So I drank a glass of wine, ate some food, listened to the indie-hipster band and hung out. There's this guy who comes to all the events at the Allis whom I adore - very gregarious, very animated and sweet and he is a go-er. By which I mean, he goes to everything. He finds all these fabulously interesting things going on in this city and he goes to them. All of them. As many as he can. Which I love. He was telling me about having gone to see this revival preacher on Tuesday night. Some guy preaching against consumerism, I guess. Go-er Todd isn't particularly religious and he'd never gone to anything like it before, but he found it fascinating. I found it fascinating to be told about it. He's such a delight. He's actually the one who clued me into Experimental Tuesdays. Bless his little heart.
Now, it is traditional that when T2 is quitting smoking that we avoid each other and the reasons are two-fold. One, she smokes. And two, we kind of tend to fight. Last night we didn't fight but in my weakened swimming brain-state I was unable to fend off some stuff. I was starting to get cranky just before we left the Allis. By the time we stopped at Balzac for a quick glass of wine before we attended an MAM event, I was officially in a bad mood. T2 is always very judgmental of the men who enter my life. One mis-step and her whole perspective on them can be altered. I spent most of the time we were alone at Balzac fending off needling attacks against the beloved. She made fun of my outfit too. ("I always hated that dress but it looks good with the belt, I guess." or my personal favorite, "You look like Courtney Love." Bah. Courtney Love wishes she looked as good as I did last night. Everyone else said I looked totally NYC. I prefer to go with that interpretation.) As she spoke I felt the pound, pound, pound of the ice pick in my ocular cavity. T2 trepanning. Heaven help me, I was so not prepared for that.
After Her Abby-ness, queen of my hairstyles showed up to rescue me, and Timothy the Gay Boyfriend just after, it took forever to extract them from Balzac to attend The Cedar Box event at the MAM. That was the one thing I wanted to do last night. I was about ready to leave without them when around 9:30 I finally managed it. When we got there, by the time we paid our entrance fee and checked our coats, we discovered that the exhibition had closed at 10. It was just after. Cranky meter raised to red level. The party was okay, there were people there I knew. Jon Jackson from the MIFF (such a cutie, but still needs a haircut ;), the wine-god from Downer Wine and Spirits, and one of T2's board members. It was fun, but I was really disappointed to miss the exhibition and in no mood for working the room - which is normally a delight of mine. The beloved slept the night away. I probably should have too.
I mention this because last night I felt as though somehow, during the two hours I slept on Thursday night, someone snuck into my apartment and performed this procedure on me. All day Friday I felt out of sorts and over-caffeinated. I was up, up, up all afternoon at work. Chatty, excitable. It's been another tough week but mostly from the perspective of how very, very hard I worked. It's paying off, but I just have to hope that it pays off enough to make a go of things. If you believe in that stuff, pray for me. You never know what might tip the balance of the universe ;)
So, after a long day of working to make it work I had intended to go home and nap. I had tried to entice the beloved to come and nap with me, but I was unsuccessful. We'd planned to meet up but I had a feeling that beloved, being in the same sleep-deprived position as me, would end up falling asleep and miss out on the evening's goings-on. And I would be disappointed to find I was right. I laid down around 6, hoping to blank myself out and recharge my batteries for at least a half hour. But my phone kept "sonnez, sonnez, sonnez" begging my attention. So when the sister-person "sonnez-ed" me and begged me to come to an event her museum was hosting because no one had showed up, I gave up the nap. I put on a beautiful outfit.
Like, serious.
There's this dress that I've had for years. I've always loved it but never quite known how to wear it. It's a billowy baby-doll type-thing that taken by itself, obscures my lovely figure. And I've had the idea to belt it, but never had the right belt. So, needing tights last night I ran over to Moxie (Entertaining sidenote: on my way there, I ran into Mr. Houdini. I wouldn't have noticed him, but he called out to me. He gave me a huge, wonderful hug which took me off my feet - literally. I was glad to smile at him again.) where I found not only the perfect tights, but also the perfect belt. So picture this: deep wine-y red velvet short dress with three-quarter length split sleeves and arrow-shaped pin tucks at the neckline, chiffon ruffles along the collar and sleeves. Belted with a deep wine-y red leather belt with a silver circlet buckle. Silver and garnet earrings, vintage silver bracelet. Deep wine-y red tights and grey leather boots. Gorgeous.
So, I went to the museum-thingie. It's called Allis After Hours and they have wine and food and a band. This event was their "Autumn Equinox" event. And when I got there, there were tons of people. I silently cursed my sister. So I drank a glass of wine, ate some food, listened to the indie-hipster band and hung out. There's this guy who comes to all the events at the Allis whom I adore - very gregarious, very animated and sweet and he is a go-er. By which I mean, he goes to everything. He finds all these fabulously interesting things going on in this city and he goes to them. All of them. As many as he can. Which I love. He was telling me about having gone to see this revival preacher on Tuesday night. Some guy preaching against consumerism, I guess. Go-er Todd isn't particularly religious and he'd never gone to anything like it before, but he found it fascinating. I found it fascinating to be told about it. He's such a delight. He's actually the one who clued me into Experimental Tuesdays. Bless his little heart.
Now, it is traditional that when T2 is quitting smoking that we avoid each other and the reasons are two-fold. One, she smokes. And two, we kind of tend to fight. Last night we didn't fight but in my weakened swimming brain-state I was unable to fend off some stuff. I was starting to get cranky just before we left the Allis. By the time we stopped at Balzac for a quick glass of wine before we attended an MAM event, I was officially in a bad mood. T2 is always very judgmental of the men who enter my life. One mis-step and her whole perspective on them can be altered. I spent most of the time we were alone at Balzac fending off needling attacks against the beloved. She made fun of my outfit too. ("I always hated that dress but it looks good with the belt, I guess." or my personal favorite, "You look like Courtney Love." Bah. Courtney Love wishes she looked as good as I did last night. Everyone else said I looked totally NYC. I prefer to go with that interpretation.) As she spoke I felt the pound, pound, pound of the ice pick in my ocular cavity. T2 trepanning. Heaven help me, I was so not prepared for that.
After Her Abby-ness, queen of my hairstyles showed up to rescue me, and Timothy the Gay Boyfriend just after, it took forever to extract them from Balzac to attend The Cedar Box event at the MAM. That was the one thing I wanted to do last night. I was about ready to leave without them when around 9:30 I finally managed it. When we got there, by the time we paid our entrance fee and checked our coats, we discovered that the exhibition had closed at 10. It was just after. Cranky meter raised to red level. The party was okay, there were people there I knew. Jon Jackson from the MIFF (such a cutie, but still needs a haircut ;), the wine-god from Downer Wine and Spirits, and one of T2's board members. It was fun, but I was really disappointed to miss the exhibition and in no mood for working the room - which is normally a delight of mine. The beloved slept the night away. I probably should have too.
Friday, November 23, 2007
Yes, I AM a silly girl
Ah... zee life. She is so fickle this mistress. How kind! How cruel! How often unsettling. And yet, we brave on through the blasts and the pats on the head and the kicks in the teeth and the elbows to the ribcage and the warm, friendly smiles and the embraces of friends and loved ones and the wicked knocks on the noggin. Yes, how we brave on each day. Laughing in the face of idiocy. Standing at the top of our mountains, surveying all the beauty and destruction that surrounds us.
It's been a rough couple of weeks, kids. Like serious. I really wasn't sure how I was going to come out on the other side but here I am. Still standing. My soul's a little battle-worn. My heart's a little achy today but that's more my own fault than anyone else's. I drank a lot last night. *shrug*
I won't go into the details of the work sitchy that caused the battle scars. There's simply too much. But, through it all... through a massive screw-up on my part, through the WORST project of my professional life ever (which is not over and nor shall it be for a loooong while), I still somehow have retained the confidence of my boss and the confidence of the high-est up I have contact with (which is pretty high). I'm still not sure I want to stay where I am and may yet begin preparations for taking my leave of that joint - I'm not sure but this would be the battle that broke the camel's back.
Thanksgiving was... strange this year. I was someplace else all day long. I was bored. I was sullen. I wasn't really there the whole time. I sort of enjoyed myself, mostly in those moments I escaped from my brain. But, ultimately, the evening would end badly. I hadn't cried in months. I had been totally unable. Even when Jerome died. Even when Mr. Houdini left again. I didn't shed a single tear. During the worst stress at work, not a droplet. I'd tried. Laurel and I had had a couple of wine nights and boy o boy if there's anything just behind the dam, usually that'll do the trick but no, nothing. Well, last night the dam broke. I cried my little heart out. I sobbed into my pillow. All the stress and angst and fear and failure and cruelty and professional vendetta leveled against me at work came pouring out. All the fear and happiness and feeling like I'm maybe out on a limb where my "romantic" life is concerned came pouring out too. Baby-bathwater kind of situation. All the annoyance and family grievance. All the feeling like I'm not in control lately. All the everything. Oh, the everything of it all has stained my pillowcases. It felt really, really good. I started laughing in the middle of it. Laughing and crying at the same time. It seems like your head should explode in that situation. Kind of like sneezing and hiccuping at the same time but it was really wonderful. If you can ever manage it, I highly recommend it. Highly cathartic.
I woke up out of sorts, terribly early, brain churning. Alcohol and melatonin seems not to be the most intelligent combination. I'll have to remember that next time I'm drunk and haven't been sleeping. Big red letters: FTN! This is when I chose to send a couple of emails. Not the smartest thing but my brain was up-ending itself and I just HAD to communicate with someone in particular. *shakes head* Silly girl. Silly, silly, tweaky girl. And I wondered this morning, in the throes of it, if I was being tweaky and thought to myself, "No!No, you just have something you want sorted out rightnow so you just neeeeeeed to speak to this person who has a shared interest in the perspective." Perhaps. Yes, perhaps that is so but looking again at the messages... which I am about to do... just now, in fact... and okay, maybe it's not as bad as I thought. I was tweaking, though. Totally, totally tweaking. Rapturous of my emotions. Needed to evangelize. Puh. To quote myself: "...sometimes the universe does not accomodate my emotional schedule." It'll keep. Hopefully he will.
It's been a rough couple of weeks, kids. Like serious. I really wasn't sure how I was going to come out on the other side but here I am. Still standing. My soul's a little battle-worn. My heart's a little achy today but that's more my own fault than anyone else's. I drank a lot last night. *shrug*
I won't go into the details of the work sitchy that caused the battle scars. There's simply too much. But, through it all... through a massive screw-up on my part, through the WORST project of my professional life ever (which is not over and nor shall it be for a loooong while), I still somehow have retained the confidence of my boss and the confidence of the high-est up I have contact with (which is pretty high). I'm still not sure I want to stay where I am and may yet begin preparations for taking my leave of that joint - I'm not sure but this would be the battle that broke the camel's back.
Thanksgiving was... strange this year. I was someplace else all day long. I was bored. I was sullen. I wasn't really there the whole time. I sort of enjoyed myself, mostly in those moments I escaped from my brain. But, ultimately, the evening would end badly. I hadn't cried in months. I had been totally unable. Even when Jerome died. Even when Mr. Houdini left again. I didn't shed a single tear. During the worst stress at work, not a droplet. I'd tried. Laurel and I had had a couple of wine nights and boy o boy if there's anything just behind the dam, usually that'll do the trick but no, nothing. Well, last night the dam broke. I cried my little heart out. I sobbed into my pillow. All the stress and angst and fear and failure and cruelty and professional vendetta leveled against me at work came pouring out. All the fear and happiness and feeling like I'm maybe out on a limb where my "romantic" life is concerned came pouring out too. Baby-bathwater kind of situation. All the annoyance and family grievance. All the feeling like I'm not in control lately. All the everything. Oh, the everything of it all has stained my pillowcases. It felt really, really good. I started laughing in the middle of it. Laughing and crying at the same time. It seems like your head should explode in that situation. Kind of like sneezing and hiccuping at the same time but it was really wonderful. If you can ever manage it, I highly recommend it. Highly cathartic.
I woke up out of sorts, terribly early, brain churning. Alcohol and melatonin seems not to be the most intelligent combination. I'll have to remember that next time I'm drunk and haven't been sleeping. Big red letters: FTN! This is when I chose to send a couple of emails. Not the smartest thing but my brain was up-ending itself and I just HAD to communicate with someone in particular. *shakes head* Silly girl. Silly, silly, tweaky girl. And I wondered this morning, in the throes of it, if I was being tweaky and thought to myself, "No!No, you just have something you want sorted out rightnow so you just neeeeeeed to speak to this person who has a shared interest in the perspective." Perhaps. Yes, perhaps that is so but looking again at the messages... which I am about to do... just now, in fact... and okay, maybe it's not as bad as I thought. I was tweaking, though. Totally, totally tweaking. Rapturous of my emotions. Needed to evangelize. Puh. To quote myself: "...sometimes the universe does not accomodate my emotional schedule." It'll keep. Hopefully he will.
Sunday, November 11, 2007
I Woke Up and it Was November
Did you ever have one of those weeks where you know you lived out each day, doing what you were supposed to do, showing up at all of your appointments, accomplishing tasks, attending the events that made their way onto your schedule... but goddamn if you can pick out one day from another?
I just had one of those weeks. I can scarcely wrap my mind around the fact that it's Sunday. But it is. Let's see... what's gone on in the Jenn-iverse since last I blogged. Well, the way-back machine takes me back to pre-Halloween. I talked about the really interesting Experimental Tuesday film I went to see, but not the one that was so torturous that when I finally gave up and walked out one of the film department peeps - with a look of sheer disbelief written all over his face - said to me, "how did you make it that long?!?" I honestly don't know. So we can talk about that. I also haven't mentioned the great fun of going to see the Milwaukee Ballet's production of Hamlet with it's associated mooning. (Yes, mooning. I got mooned at the ballet. How many of you can say that, huh?) I didn't really get a chance to relate the details of Mariah's party, nor have I brought you all up to speed on boy y. Or the predictable hilarity of the woodwork debuts a few of my other boys have made.
Shall we start at the beginning? Chicago seems like the beginning, I think.
I took the afternoon train down to Chicago, arriving around 2:30, I believe. It had been my intention when this jaunt was in the planning stages to walk over to the MCA and see what's going on over there, since I am a member and haven't been since I last had an overseas visitor. (Which was a looooong time ago now.) However, Mariah called on my way down and said hey meet me on Dearborn and Adams my dad and I are going to a protest. And so I asked the obvious question: "What are you protesting?" To my amusement, Mariah answered, "I dunno, Dad, what are we protesting?" Somewhere in the background I heard Mariah's dad answer- "The war." Hilarious. So I walked down to the square by the post office at the appointed sculpture and watched as the SINGLE LARGEST PROTEST I HAVE EVER SEEN unfolded before my eyes. I can now say that on October 27, 2007 I attended a protest that 30,000 other people also attended. It was INCREDIBLE. Mariah has yet to deliver on pictures, so I'll have to pester him. Which I actually just did. Just now. I'll post what I receive.
The party was interesting. It's funny to me how different groups of people react to the presence of a new person sometimes. I remember when the aforementioned overseas visitor was here and I believe that his biggest complaint was that none of my friends seemed interested in talking to him. Personally, when I new person arrives in my midst I want to ask them a ton of questions and make them feel welcome. Not everybody does that, as it turns out. And the majority of Mariah's friends did not seem interested in me. A few people talked to me but largely, I was ignored. Mariah did well making up for that so I wasn't like, bored or anything. And observing his group dynamic and the perspective his current group of friends have on him vs the perspective I have on him was really, really interesting. My Mariah is quite different than their Mariah. I love those kinds of peeks into people's social universe. And how different phases of their lives produce different versions of themselves and it's kind of exciting to be outside the usual scope of his everyday life looking in. Ultimately, it was great fun.
The following Tuesday I attended another Experimental Tuesday at UWM. This was a Danièle Huillet memorial tribute. When UWM folks talked about it at the "I think there's something worth dying for" screening it sounded fabulously interesting. You say French film and I am there like a shot, strictly speaking. I love the French aesthetic in film more often than not. But this was not a French film. It was German. Based on a German play by Friedrich Hölderlin called Der Tod des Empedokles. And it was horrible. I have since, when asked, taken to comparing it to Vogon poetry. It was just that uncomfortable to watch. Danièle Huillet was part of a duo with her lifelong partner Jean-Marie Straub. The wiki entry describing these two is also fabulously interesting. But what I did not note is what their aesthetic was all about.
Here's a tidbit for you:
They also used non-professional actors. And did it ever show. The main character kept looking down as he was delivering his heroically long monologues. I imagine to make reference to the text. I can scarcely imagine a professional actor memorizing that entire script, much less some guy off the street. Now, most people are frightened off when a descriptor mentions long, immobile takes. But being a fan of the 70's film style, which certainly uses the aforementioned takes I embrace them. I am the only person I know who was able to not only stay awake for but also totally enjoy Equus. I've tried to share my love and no one has ever made it through. This stylistic choice can either be pleasing as in films such as Equus, Coffey, the French Connection or it can be incredibly unpleasant. At least for this film, it was more of the latter.
But my evening was saved. As I was walking home, I got a call from boy y. He wanted to come to where I was and so I met him at the coffee shop across the street from my house. As I walked the sidewalk in front of the shop, I could see him in the huge bank of windows. He'd just had his hair cut, he was wearing a crisp green shirt and he hadn't seen me yet. I could not help but smile. He greeted me as I walked in the door saying, "This won't work. I need to go to a darkened room." I remember being sort of taken aback. Thinking, "Oh yes? Really? Praytell what exactly do you have in mind?" He smiled at me and showed me his camera. I knew about this piece he's been working on, actually. Years ago, probably 4 or 5, I went to a gallery night at Turner Hall. There were belly dancers, and two very interesting projects one was film from the security cameras that are all over Milwaukee and the other was this non-stop stream of eyes. Irises, specifically. And I remember standing there in front of the film projection, transfixed.
After the photos were taken he plugged his camera into my tv and flipped my eyes onto the screen. I have wavy muscle in my irises. These long, undulating lines of blue and gold with big brown "freckles" up top and to the right on each. It was so interesting. He sat and explained to me what he knew about eyes. We discovered I have dusty eyeballs. Which is, you know, kind of freaky. And afterwards, after the picture snapping and eyeball perusing there was kissing. Really, really good kissing. Which seems to be a theme. Which is good.
Halloween itself was fun. Spent with boy y. First we went to see a reading of a play by a youth theatre group at UWM, then we met up with boy y's friends at Trocadero. The instant we walked in I knew we would get along - the boy friend was dressed like Kelly. Which, like... totally cool, right? We had a great time, we laughed, we talked we danced. A good time was had by all. And, whereas I had gone dressed in daddy duds to the Chicago paty, a la the letter jacket and sweater, for Halloween proper I went as "Edie Sedgewick, pre-Andy Warhol" (which no one got) dressed in my mother's dress and jacket. So, Dad for party, Mom for going out. Which was good because like, the mommy dress was red and short which is always good when in the company of a boy you like. I wish I could find some specific information on the youth theatre group who performed the thing so I can be a little publicity conduit for them but google searches haven't yielded good results. Maybe I'll ask the boy later.
Moving on to Friday...
I work with a woman who is a very curious person. I don't know if I quite understand her but we've some similar interests - namely men and dance. So, when she invited me to attend "Greet Your Seat," an event for the "Balletomane" season ticket holders, during which I was utterly swarmed by board members I jumped at the chance. And we had a good time. Then she invited me to the "Dialogue for Dance" with Stephen Mills, the guest choreographer from Ballet Austin and Michael Pink, the Artistic Director for the Milwaukee Ballet. Which was quite wonderful. We got to see a preview of the ballet, hear about its inception, and really be front and center for a gorgeous view of some of the male dancers' callipygian-ness. The ballet, Hamlet, sounded quite amazing and when it was revealed that the musical score for the show was Philip Glass... that was it, I was sold. I would've bought tickets. But I didn't have to, my co-worker offered them for free.
We had decided to get really dressed up, so I donned the beautiful dress I wore for the Milwaukee International Film Festival Gala. You can go ahead an look in the photo gallery for me, there were pictures of me from that event but it looks like none of them made it onto the website. *shrug* I loose. (My bet.) Boy y decided to work an in at the Ballet and got a ticket from a friend who works there. Boy y picked me up. I was running a little behind schedule, had wet fingernails, and was carrying a jumble of crap when I walked outside to the flash, flash, flash of a shutterbug sitting on the wall beside my driveway. Boy y treated me to a taste of celebrity with a paparazzi reception.
The Ballet itself was slow to start but huge in patience payoff. It was gorgeous, magical, enthralling. And I got to see ass. The lead, Hamlet, split his pants in the first act. It started small but eventually his ENTIRE ass was visible. Running, jumping, leaping was cheeky as hell. The co-worker and I loved it. After the performance we attended a champagne reception where I had the opportunity to speak with the lead. He was very humble and jovial about the "wardrobe malfunction." Which was great. After the reception, the co-worker, boy y and I all decided to go out to dinner at a new tapas restaurant called, La Merenda. The place is positively adorable with really great ambiance to begin with and the food is quite excellent. We had something with shrimp and something curry and something else I can't quite remember. Which is sub-par for my usual food porn, I know, but hey - I'm lucky I remember that much these days.
Now, fast-forwarding to the part where I talk about the woodwork and it's recent yield. Cuz that's the fun part ;) Well, for some of us, anyway. So, remember when I posted about how it was kinda upsetting how after you're newly single all of a sudden your guy friends who have been such very good friends suddenly start looking at you as a dating option? Well, as we all well know it works the other way too. Meet someone you like a lot and are kind of smitten with and watch as all your old flames suddenly wanna start something up again. I got a couple of emails from Houdini boy (now you see him, now you don't - now he's all bound up in chains and submerged in a cooling bath of his own pain), it may or may not have been a toe in the water of round 3 but we'll find out for certain when he does or does not respond to my last response in the email chain. He saw me with boy y on Friday night. Tried to sneak by me with his head down and his baseball cap pulled down. I thought about calling to him to say hello but I decided to let him sneak if that's what he wanted. Went out for drinks with another old flame and after I got home got a text message requesting the pleasure of his presence at my apartment. There was another one in there and it involved a late night face-to-face request but I'll spare y'all the details. You know, and the thing is - I'd love to be friends with Houdini. He's a great guy who I like a lot and while apparently he's not exactly relationship of any kind material I'd still like to know him and double-bubble geek-a-licious boy of the texting fame is a dear heart too whom I care for immensely. And the face-asker, well he's just one of those people I love. So what up? Huh? Do my pheromones change or something? I know they say it's attitude but I like to think I'm a generally happy and bubbly person anyway. I dunno, whatevs, right?
I think that pretty much covers the last couple of whirlwind weeks. Tuesday I leave for Orlando so y'all get to be real jealous of NWG. Heh.
I just had one of those weeks. I can scarcely wrap my mind around the fact that it's Sunday. But it is. Let's see... what's gone on in the Jenn-iverse since last I blogged. Well, the way-back machine takes me back to pre-Halloween. I talked about the really interesting Experimental Tuesday film I went to see, but not the one that was so torturous that when I finally gave up and walked out one of the film department peeps - with a look of sheer disbelief written all over his face - said to me, "how did you make it that long?!?" I honestly don't know. So we can talk about that. I also haven't mentioned the great fun of going to see the Milwaukee Ballet's production of Hamlet with it's associated mooning. (Yes, mooning. I got mooned at the ballet. How many of you can say that, huh?) I didn't really get a chance to relate the details of Mariah's party, nor have I brought you all up to speed on boy y. Or the predictable hilarity of the woodwork debuts a few of my other boys have made.
Shall we start at the beginning? Chicago seems like the beginning, I think.
I took the afternoon train down to Chicago, arriving around 2:30, I believe. It had been my intention when this jaunt was in the planning stages to walk over to the MCA and see what's going on over there, since I am a member and haven't been since I last had an overseas visitor. (Which was a looooong time ago now.) However, Mariah called on my way down and said hey meet me on Dearborn and Adams my dad and I are going to a protest. And so I asked the obvious question: "What are you protesting?" To my amusement, Mariah answered, "I dunno, Dad, what are we protesting?" Somewhere in the background I heard Mariah's dad answer- "The war." Hilarious. So I walked down to the square by the post office at the appointed sculpture and watched as the SINGLE LARGEST PROTEST I HAVE EVER SEEN unfolded before my eyes. I can now say that on October 27, 2007 I attended a protest that 30,000 other people also attended. It was INCREDIBLE. Mariah has yet to deliver on pictures, so I'll have to pester him. Which I actually just did. Just now. I'll post what I receive.
The party was interesting. It's funny to me how different groups of people react to the presence of a new person sometimes. I remember when the aforementioned overseas visitor was here and I believe that his biggest complaint was that none of my friends seemed interested in talking to him. Personally, when I new person arrives in my midst I want to ask them a ton of questions and make them feel welcome. Not everybody does that, as it turns out. And the majority of Mariah's friends did not seem interested in me. A few people talked to me but largely, I was ignored. Mariah did well making up for that so I wasn't like, bored or anything. And observing his group dynamic and the perspective his current group of friends have on him vs the perspective I have on him was really, really interesting. My Mariah is quite different than their Mariah. I love those kinds of peeks into people's social universe. And how different phases of their lives produce different versions of themselves and it's kind of exciting to be outside the usual scope of his everyday life looking in. Ultimately, it was great fun.
The following Tuesday I attended another Experimental Tuesday at UWM. This was a Danièle Huillet memorial tribute. When UWM folks talked about it at the "I think there's something worth dying for" screening it sounded fabulously interesting. You say French film and I am there like a shot, strictly speaking. I love the French aesthetic in film more often than not. But this was not a French film. It was German. Based on a German play by Friedrich Hölderlin called Der Tod des Empedokles. And it was horrible. I have since, when asked, taken to comparing it to Vogon poetry. It was just that uncomfortable to watch. Danièle Huillet was part of a duo with her lifelong partner Jean-Marie Straub. The wiki entry describing these two is also fabulously interesting. But what I did not note is what their aesthetic was all about.
Here's a tidbit for you:
"Aesthetically, their films are often described as being "austere." They utilize long, immobile takes, often framed in an unconventional but seemingly primitive way. Key actions or objects are often not shown, leaving the audience instead to imagine them or have them described by the characters."
They also used non-professional actors. And did it ever show. The main character kept looking down as he was delivering his heroically long monologues. I imagine to make reference to the text. I can scarcely imagine a professional actor memorizing that entire script, much less some guy off the street. Now, most people are frightened off when a descriptor mentions long, immobile takes. But being a fan of the 70's film style, which certainly uses the aforementioned takes I embrace them. I am the only person I know who was able to not only stay awake for but also totally enjoy Equus. I've tried to share my love and no one has ever made it through. This stylistic choice can either be pleasing as in films such as Equus, Coffey, the French Connection or it can be incredibly unpleasant. At least for this film, it was more of the latter.
But my evening was saved. As I was walking home, I got a call from boy y. He wanted to come to where I was and so I met him at the coffee shop across the street from my house. As I walked the sidewalk in front of the shop, I could see him in the huge bank of windows. He'd just had his hair cut, he was wearing a crisp green shirt and he hadn't seen me yet. I could not help but smile. He greeted me as I walked in the door saying, "This won't work. I need to go to a darkened room." I remember being sort of taken aback. Thinking, "Oh yes? Really? Praytell what exactly do you have in mind?" He smiled at me and showed me his camera. I knew about this piece he's been working on, actually. Years ago, probably 4 or 5, I went to a gallery night at Turner Hall. There were belly dancers, and two very interesting projects one was film from the security cameras that are all over Milwaukee and the other was this non-stop stream of eyes. Irises, specifically. And I remember standing there in front of the film projection, transfixed.
After the photos were taken he plugged his camera into my tv and flipped my eyes onto the screen. I have wavy muscle in my irises. These long, undulating lines of blue and gold with big brown "freckles" up top and to the right on each. It was so interesting. He sat and explained to me what he knew about eyes. We discovered I have dusty eyeballs. Which is, you know, kind of freaky. And afterwards, after the picture snapping and eyeball perusing there was kissing. Really, really good kissing. Which seems to be a theme. Which is good.
Halloween itself was fun. Spent with boy y. First we went to see a reading of a play by a youth theatre group at UWM, then we met up with boy y's friends at Trocadero. The instant we walked in I knew we would get along - the boy friend was dressed like Kelly. Which, like... totally cool, right? We had a great time, we laughed, we talked we danced. A good time was had by all. And, whereas I had gone dressed in daddy duds to the Chicago paty, a la the letter jacket and sweater, for Halloween proper I went as "Edie Sedgewick, pre-Andy Warhol" (which no one got) dressed in my mother's dress and jacket. So, Dad for party, Mom for going out. Which was good because like, the mommy dress was red and short which is always good when in the company of a boy you like. I wish I could find some specific information on the youth theatre group who performed the thing so I can be a little publicity conduit for them but google searches haven't yielded good results. Maybe I'll ask the boy later.
Moving on to Friday...
I work with a woman who is a very curious person. I don't know if I quite understand her but we've some similar interests - namely men and dance. So, when she invited me to attend "Greet Your Seat," an event for the "Balletomane" season ticket holders, during which I was utterly swarmed by board members I jumped at the chance. And we had a good time. Then she invited me to the "Dialogue for Dance" with Stephen Mills, the guest choreographer from Ballet Austin and Michael Pink, the Artistic Director for the Milwaukee Ballet. Which was quite wonderful. We got to see a preview of the ballet, hear about its inception, and really be front and center for a gorgeous view of some of the male dancers' callipygian-ness. The ballet, Hamlet, sounded quite amazing and when it was revealed that the musical score for the show was Philip Glass... that was it, I was sold. I would've bought tickets. But I didn't have to, my co-worker offered them for free.
We had decided to get really dressed up, so I donned the beautiful dress I wore for the Milwaukee International Film Festival Gala. You can go ahead an look in the photo gallery for me, there were pictures of me from that event but it looks like none of them made it onto the website. *shrug* I loose. (My bet.) Boy y decided to work an in at the Ballet and got a ticket from a friend who works there. Boy y picked me up. I was running a little behind schedule, had wet fingernails, and was carrying a jumble of crap when I walked outside to the flash, flash, flash of a shutterbug sitting on the wall beside my driveway. Boy y treated me to a taste of celebrity with a paparazzi reception.
The Ballet itself was slow to start but huge in patience payoff. It was gorgeous, magical, enthralling. And I got to see ass. The lead, Hamlet, split his pants in the first act. It started small but eventually his ENTIRE ass was visible. Running, jumping, leaping was cheeky as hell. The co-worker and I loved it. After the performance we attended a champagne reception where I had the opportunity to speak with the lead. He was very humble and jovial about the "wardrobe malfunction." Which was great. After the reception, the co-worker, boy y and I all decided to go out to dinner at a new tapas restaurant called, La Merenda. The place is positively adorable with really great ambiance to begin with and the food is quite excellent. We had something with shrimp and something curry and something else I can't quite remember. Which is sub-par for my usual food porn, I know, but hey - I'm lucky I remember that much these days.
Now, fast-forwarding to the part where I talk about the woodwork and it's recent yield. Cuz that's the fun part ;) Well, for some of us, anyway. So, remember when I posted about how it was kinda upsetting how after you're newly single all of a sudden your guy friends who have been such very good friends suddenly start looking at you as a dating option? Well, as we all well know it works the other way too. Meet someone you like a lot and are kind of smitten with and watch as all your old flames suddenly wanna start something up again. I got a couple of emails from Houdini boy (now you see him, now you don't - now he's all bound up in chains and submerged in a cooling bath of his own pain), it may or may not have been a toe in the water of round 3 but we'll find out for certain when he does or does not respond to my last response in the email chain. He saw me with boy y on Friday night. Tried to sneak by me with his head down and his baseball cap pulled down. I thought about calling to him to say hello but I decided to let him sneak if that's what he wanted. Went out for drinks with another old flame and after I got home got a text message requesting the pleasure of his presence at my apartment. There was another one in there and it involved a late night face-to-face request but I'll spare y'all the details. You know, and the thing is - I'd love to be friends with Houdini. He's a great guy who I like a lot and while apparently he's not exactly relationship of any kind material I'd still like to know him and double-bubble geek-a-licious boy of the texting fame is a dear heart too whom I care for immensely. And the face-asker, well he's just one of those people I love. So what up? Huh? Do my pheromones change or something? I know they say it's attitude but I like to think I'm a generally happy and bubbly person anyway. I dunno, whatevs, right?
I think that pretty much covers the last couple of whirlwind weeks. Tuesday I leave for Orlando so y'all get to be real jealous of NWG. Heh.
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
Saturday, October 27, 2007
I can haz keeeeeeeessez?
secret by Hex photo by Ninjapants
lolsecretz
So the above picture is from lolsecretz, which I occasionally check and find kinda hilarious. Uhm, until I read the "legal notice." Oh, hai. Now I'z not so enchanted. Behold:
"By submitting content to Lolsecretz, you grant Lolsecretz a perpetual, royalty-free license to use, reproduce, modify, publish, distribute, and otherwise exercise all copyright and publicity rights with respect to that content at its sole discretion, including storing it on Lolsecretz servers and incorporating it in other works in any media now known or later developed including without limitation published books.
If you do not wish to grant Lolsecretz these rights, it is suggested that you do not submit content to this website. Lolsecretz reserves the right to select, edit and arrange submissions, and to remove information from the Lolsecretz website at any time at its sole discretion."
If you do not wish to grant Lolsecretz these rights, it is suggested that you do not submit content to this website. Lolsecretz reserves the right to select, edit and arrange submissions, and to remove information from the Lolsecretz website at any time at its sole discretion."
*annoyance*
While I'm on the subject of cat macros, Danah Boyd blogged about lol last week. Apparently the bible has been translated into lol-speak. I was not aware of this particular meme. And so the LOL universe grows. (I can haz applez? No? Gawddamz!) I derive no small amount of secret joy when the "big brains" apply their skeeelz to analyzing seemly banal cultural phenomena like LOL. A linguist? Analyzing lol-speak? 0h n035!1!!1
So, let's see what's new and exciting in the Jenn-iverse, shall we? On Tuesday I attended an Experimental Tuesday screening of "I believe that somewhere, there is something worth dying for, and I think it's amazing" while I always enjoy experiments, especially of the cinematic variety (or videographic... uh, is that a word? No. Merde.) I have to say that I spent most of the film alternately being awed by the colors they painted the actors, the linguistic style they chose, and the extreme performance-art physicality of it; I did spend most of the film thinking, "Oh Em Gee, Whiskey Tango Foxtrot. What in blue blazes is goin' on up in heya?!?"
There's a lot going on at the Peck Film school these days which I find exciting, titillating even. I regret missing Kimberly Miller's exhibition at Woodland Pattern last night... but... uhm... I was, uh... doin'... somethin'... else. Heh. You guys can ask all you want but I'm not ready to tell. When I'm ready, I'll explain why when asked how I am the consistent answer this week has been "excellent." Certainly one secret to my smile was the purchase of a new pair of shoes on Thursday but really, that's kind of minor comparatively.
I think the reasons I'm hesitant to discuss the source of my delight are threefold. First, there innumerable places on the interwebs that one can go to read all about the romantic adventures (tho, probably more in the mis-adventures vein) of girl x. How many times can one read "OMG, he like totally sux!!" before one yawns, stretches and re-directs their browser? Second, I've not made it to 31 without plenty adventures and one gets rather tired of recounting the above scene with their personal audiences. There's an element of pride in there insofar as one does not necessarily like people to know that their taste/decision-making ability is so terrible that they keep having all these mis-adventures with the suck-ass menfolk. Thus, until such time as boy y has demonstrated a viability where consistency is concerned I try not to open my mouth too far. Tho, this has been more public from the get-go than I am accustomed to and I'm trying not to let that bother me because this particular fascination is by nature more public than I'm accustomed to and I've been working on not caring about that stuff as much anymore anyway. (And it is here that I would like to point out that weirdly, I'm not sure I think... no matter the outcome... that this will turn out to be a "OMG, he like totally sux" sort of situation. I kind of know why I think that but this paragraph's getting a bit on the long side so perhaps I'll save that tidbit for another time.) Thirdly, I don't know exactly what I'm staring down the barrel of atm. There's a certain amount of fear mixed in with the joy, which is what makes it exciting. (But that's the nature of new things, isn't it?) But there's also a Shinkansen-speed, whirlwind-i-ness element that's occasionally making me feel like I've had the rug ripped out from under my feet. Which is a good thing. I'm good at rolling with the punches and putting myself in situations where there is no other choice seems like the best way to get better at it. So, until such time as I don't feel that trifecta of advisable silence is at play, perhaps I'll fill you all in.
Tonight I make the journey to Chicago-land for my friend Mariah's (Mariah is boy, just in case anyone was wondering. An old, dear friend of mine who I simply cannot wait to throw my arms around.) Halloween party. It's a costume party. *raises eyebrows suggestively* And to that end I have absconded with my father's letter jacket and sweater. I'll be donning a pair of skinny jeans and chucks, parting my hair like a boy and possibly stuffing my pants. With socks. Hehehehehe. Hopefully there will be pictures.
With sweet, secret smiles. A fluttery heart, and an over-clocked brain I wish you all a happy Halloween weekend.
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
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