princess there is me

After a conversation we had yesterday about wanting to laugh at inappropriate times, Glennis wrote a fantastically honest post about some of her most uncomfortable not-hilarious situations. She inspired me to recount mine:
At my great-grandmother's funeral, somebody hired this soprano soloist who sounded like an alien whale. She was six feet tall and looked like Bruce Vilanch in drag and sang about 3 octaves too high... it was horrible. I was 13, and I was sitting between my mom and my grandmother, and as soon as this woman started I thought my head was going to explode. All I could think of was whether she actually COULD wake the dead, in which case my great-grandmother would have slapped her and then started dancing. I started shaking from trying not to laugh, and I lowered my head and turned ever so slightly toward my super-traditional mom, whose head was down.... then she turned toward me and her face was BEET RED from trying not to laugh. We both just lost it.

shine on me

Jen,
We have FTP'd a PDF file for you to OK. We are due to ship files to the printer ASAP - please let me know when it is approved.
Thanks,
Jane

Seriously. This was the first email I read today.

I have a 3-hour-long mandatory class tonight on the company history of Blue Man Group. It promises to be interesting, but that doesn't make me less already tired, or less slightly annoyed that I found out about it after saying yes to something funner.

for all that you are

Happy post-Thanksgivings!
Although I'm generally glad it's not so, it might be a tiny bit cool to have a view of Spongebob's rump outside my window, as was the case at an open house Kevin and I went to prior to driving to CT on Wednesday evening:

(photo credit to Kevin, from whom I unabashedly nipped this)

a little less bark

Further proof that O'Really will never really disappear just because I abandoned the name:
[11:30] Me: [someone specific], 'tis jen mac!
[11:31] Person who I had every reason to believe was someone specific: hi
[11:32] Me: I was at the [show] live taping on the 18th, and you and my friend [R] made an adorable couple in the lesbian cruise sketch!
[11:34] Person: what do you mean?
[11:34] Me: is this not [someone specific]? crap..
[11:34] Person: No, it's [their real name]
[11:34] Me: oops. sorry. i think I confused the screen name!
[11:35] Person: didn't you use to work at Giovanni's
[11:35] Me: nope
[11:35] Person: Scholastic?
[11:35] Me: yes! that must be it!
[11:35] Person: What's your name? lol
[11:36] Me: jen. this is so weird! I had your screen name in my buddy list, and asked someone to confim that you were our friend [specific], and they said yes...
[11:36] Person: nope, sorry
[11:37] Me: sorry for the mixup... have a good day!
[11:37] Person: you too

the power of voodoo

This is my lawyer, Nick Nolte.

a step behind

I shamelessly and unironically LOVE listening to "The Wind Beneath My Wings."

I'm probably going to miss my violin lesson tonight. This is both annoying and a relief.

I have a new bit planned for Blue Man that I can't wait to test drive tonight. It's an improvised parody of "Trapped in a Closet." It's only improvised because I couldn't be bothered to write it.

Kevin is in the middle of reading the Harry Potter series for the first time, and I'm in the middle of re-reading it, which is fun. I don't even feel guilty for having completely abandoned the 2006 reading project, which has been automatically parlayed into 2007. I start my New Year's resolutions early, apparently.

I'm trying to gain weight. Nicole Richie is trying to gain weight. Hopefully, this is the most the two of us will ever have in common.

I read 100 essays last night for my magazine's teen writer contest, then reinflated my brain by watching two episodes of '30 Rock' on my laptop.

I tend to feel compelled to say a string of random things in my blog when I'm sitting around waiting for people to do things so I can do other things and then leave.

where I see it all

This is a phenomenal video with unphenomenal audio (laugh track and Stravinsky*, yawn). So before you hit play, PLEASE sync up Blondie's "One Way or Another" and hit play on both at the same time. That song and this video BELONG together.

You? Are welcome.

*whatever

neon heart day-glow eyes

A few months back, I bought an incredible wrap dress that I knew I would have to wait a while to wear. I waited awhile. I'm wearing it. It's made out of silk by an amazing designer, and is a shade of green that I thought only existed in the Harry Potter books. I feel like a million bucks in it. I waited to wear it because a) I don't wear dresses to work that often b) it's seasonally tricky, being silk but lightweight but long and hard to cover with a coat, c) it's hard to tie unless you made it or wear it a lot and d) the undergarment situation was tough to figure out. But last night, I had an epiphany: wear it with my American Apparel unitard that I bought specifically for Dance Dance Party Party (but once wore to clean the bathroom while listening to Prince). Streamlined, supportive and invisible once I add my tall black boots, the unitard is the perfect solution.
Unless I have to pee.
Too bad nobody who was wondering why I was in the ladies room for 15 minutes reads my blog.

UPDATE UPON HAVING BEEN BUZZFED: Please go here and here. Thanks!

midi d'un faune

I have a confession to make.
I secretly don't hate getting fallen asleep on while riding the subway.
If it's a homeless person covered in worms and smelling of trash, that would bug me, but I would never sit next to a homeless person covered in worms and smelling of trash, so I will never be fallen asleep on by one.
I'm talking normal, unthreatening, relatively fragrant people who have just gotten a tad drowsy on their travels and have nodded off. This is, above all else, highly entertaining.
Last night on the way home, I was feeling a bit deflated from a low-energy audience at Blue Man, and had also forgotten my book, so my space-stare probably looked a little sad. As the express train pulled out of 14th street, a dude my age in a puffy jacket and sideways trucker hat started to slump forward. As the train gathered speed, the guy started to tip onto my right arm. I nudged him, he gave a little snnnzrk! and immediately fell back asleep. The woman standing in front of me giggled and we made eye contact. Seconds later, the guy was up against my arm again, and this time my nudging was doing no good.
I started to audibly giggle, and several other standers turned around to see why. Three other women were now smiling at me in that sympathetic way that's reserved specifically for situations like these, or for when you're getting hit on by a mariachi band.
When the train was one stop away from mine, the guy was sort of making me uncomfortable, despite the close watch from the other passengers. I pulled my arm in a few inches, then threw it. Sort of the close-quarters version of shaking sand off your beach blanket. I think I even said "woo!" The guy suddenly snapped wide awake and stared at me.
"Hi!" I said cheerfully. The onlookers laughed.
"Hi," he said matter-of-factly, with little shame.
The train stopped. I stood up and said, "bye now!" and left.
I hope he had a nap later, or a coffee.

ritual dance in the sun

On the train this morning, three women my age stood near the door, chatting. A few stops before mine, one of them got off and waved goodbye to the other two. The second the doors closed again, one of the remaining two women immediately started complaining about the one who had just left. The other woman didn't really say anything, just sort of nodded sympathetically. She didn't really contribute anything to what was now mostly a one-sided conversation. She just sort of stared and titled her head while the complainy girl spoke negatively and unflatteringly about the one who had left. I sent silent waves of "good for yous!" toward the unspeaking woman. First of all, if you can't say something nice... second of all, she made it clear that she's not dumb enough to think that the negative one doesn't say the exact same kind of things about her when she's not there.

a hundred million birds fly

I feel your heart beating everywhere

A few months ago, I made a decision. It was rash and impulsive, and the setting in which I made it was ironic and inappropriate. I decided, onstage in the middle of a non-musical improv show, never to do non-musical improv again.
I did a scene, resented everthing that popped out of my mouth, returned to the back wall, and in my head said, "done." I didn't even step out again in that show.
I really was done.
I was very specific about the "non-musical" part, because musical improv is a different beast entirely. I am, more or less, not horrible at that. More importantly, I love it. I love the people I've performed with, the shows we've done, the feeling I get afterwards, the memories of particular moments, the reaction from the audience. With the exception of the "I love the people I've performed with" part, none of that holds true for non-musical improv. I am simply no good at it. And in those rare cases when a seasoned improvisor tells me differently, I automatically assume they're patronizing me.
Four years of taking classes, and I have nothing to show for it talent-wise. But absolutely, I do give credit to the classes I've taken and the people with whom I've taken them for at least steering me in the direction of musical improv.
So I can't say I regret taking so many classes for so many years, because I've met some of the most important people in my life as a direct or semi-direct result of having gotten involved in improv. So regret- no. That's not the R I'm feeling, Bud. I don't regret a second of the sweat and effort I put into trying to improve at something I'm just not very good at. Because I've gotten so much more out of it than just being good, or even liking it very much.
So while doing non-musical improv makes me want to stab myself in the throat, having done it doesn't. Any emotional wounds will heal themselves, and I just avoid the places and people who make me feel like I might start to regret it. For the most part, the rewards have been incredible, so I'm just going to cash in now.
I'm keeping the good stuff.

I was shakin' at the knees

Nerdy Moment in Music, #586
July 14, 2006
I was on Jet Blue night flight to California when, somewhere in the Midwest (vaguely at the Northern border of Missouri), something caught my eye out the window. Across the darkened sky, I was looking directly into the side of a cumulonimbus cloud, in which a thunderstorm raged like nothing I'd ever seen. I could see the lightning bolts as they formed. Each started out as a spark, then splintered into a fork at the bottom of the cloud. The storm must have spanned for miles, because it took a while to pass it. I grabbed my iPod, which was currently playing the incongruous "Chess" soundtrack, and immediately pulled up "Thunderstruck" by AC/DC. The lightning and the visibly billowing clouds synced up almost exactly to the chants of "THUN! DA!" At one point I poked the drowsy guy next to me to say "look at that!" He was pretty amazed, as this looked like something out of a science book. I didn't offer to let him listen to my iPod. That part was just for me.