Tavie blogs i like:
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Sunday, November 30, 2003
I have this bullshit art homework assignment overdue from last week. We're supposed to make four abstract compositions, using at least four colours each, to illustrate the following words: bliss, tranquility, melancholy and fecundity. (The last one is all about menstruation, for me.)
I fucking hate painting. I hate it I hate it I hate it.
Now, there's this one girl who always does her compositions on her computer, prints them out and brings them in. It's sort of cheating but he never seems to mind. I'm thinking I might try doing that. Of course with my luck we'll be out of ink, or printing paper, or something. But I don't give a shit because I'm at that point in the semester where everything is pissing me off.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:05 PM | shower me with attention
This is my current sleeping schedule:
Two to three days of sleeping for less than three hours at a time, or not at all; any tiny bit of sleep is interrupted by nightmares and/or the need to pee, sweats and racing heart.
One solid day of sleeping, 16-20 hours.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 8:22 PM | shower me with attention
I heard a sick rumour today. Erin told me that Jennifer Tilly was on The Wayne Brady Show talking about her role in The Haunted Mansion movie, and mentioned all the jobs she got connected to the movie doing voice over work as Madame Leota. She mentioned doing the voice for the toy, the McDonald's commercial... and the ride. Apparently, Disney wants to "update" the original Madame Leota from the ride because she's so "outdated"... something about the bouffant hairdo.
There are so many things wrong with this idea, I don't know where to begin. The original Madame Leota is the head of an old Imagineer, Leota Toombs, who did the face for the hologram; the voice is Eleanor Audley, the voice of Maleficent and Cinderella's Stepmother. She is part of Disney history. The idea that Jennifer Tilly could permanently replace her in the ride is appalling beyond measure... I mean, it's Save Toad-appalling. And I hope that, should this rumour prove to be true, that an appropriate Save Toad-calibre campaign is launched.
Jennifer Tilly's interview with TV Guide confirms this rumour.
This is sick.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 5:13 PM | shower me with attention
It's that time of year again...
Why are you in Tavie's head? 4:59 PM | shower me with attention
Saturday, November 29, 2003
Why are you in Tavie's head? 10:54 AM | shower me with attention
I was just thinking how nice it would be to be able to grow a full beard. This would serve on multiple levels: it suits both my Jesus and long-hair fetishes (and how about my Yitzhak fetish?); it would look cool and weird; and, most importantly, it would hide my double chins. I had a dream once where I grew a full beard and it was one of the best dreams I ever had.
I don't want to be a man, mind you; I want to be a beautiful, feminine, sexy woman, with a full beard. And perky breasts.
Of course such a thing is not possible to imagine in our culture. Only men have beards.
Also, when I get down to it, all I really want a beard for is to hide the double chins. In which case, diet and exercise might go further to meet this end than simple hair growth.
Dear Santy Claus: Please get me a treadmill and some hand weights for Christmas... and have your elves wire my jaw shut...
Why are you in Tavie's head? 5:11 AM | shower me with attention
Friday, November 28, 2003
Feast on this novel concept: I fell asleep again around midnight, and woke up shortly before 7 am. If that doesn't sound halfway decent-to-normal, I dunno what does!
Of course, I woke up gasping from a terrible nightmare, one of my specialties, the kind where there's a meteor racing towards the earth and I'm fleeing from balls of fire (in this version, I was running with Jackie and Fred from later seasons of Roseanne), but still, a morning waking is a morning waking!
(If I don't make light of it I'll never want to go to sleep again. I hate those nightmares.)
Why are you in Tavie's head? 8:19 AM | shower me with attention
Thursday, November 27, 2003
AND I'm awake again! See, I no longer need sleep in my life!
Why are you in Tavie's head? 9:21 PM | shower me with attention
In another hour I'll have been awake 24 hours! And this is post-Tryptophan. I wonder if I can get to the point of hallucinations.
I will not fret about all the homework I have to do until after I've gotten to sleep. If I ever get to sleep.
Thanksgiving meal was good. It was great having extra people there, although my dad was as loud and obnoxious as he could be, insulting Gina in an attempt to make a joke almost the second she walked through the door.
But still, the turkey was good.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 5:04 PM | shower me with attention
(I never went to bed! HooooooOOOOOoo! I DON'T NEED SLEEP ANYMORE EVER!!!)
Why are you in Tavie's head? 10:16 AM | shower me with attention
My Impromptu 2 a.m. Thanksgiving Day Mix CD:
1. "Thankful Heart" - Michael Caine & The Muppets
2. "Thanksgiving Song" - Adam Sandler
3. "All Good Gifts" - Godspell Movie Soundtrack
4. "Food, Glorious Food" - Oliver! OCR
5. "Thanks for the Memories" - Bob Hope
6. "We Gather Together" - Unknown instrumental
7. "Kind and Generous" - Natalie Merchant
8. "Thank U"* - Alanis Morissette
9. "Chip the Glasses, Crack the Plates" - The Hobbit soundtrack, Rankin & Bass
10. "Screaming and Yelling" - Carole King
11. "Baby It's Cold Outside" - Stephen Page & Rita
12. Theme from Golden Girls ("Thank You for Being a Friend")
13. "Harvest Moon" - Elliot Smith
14. "Appalachian Spring (Simple Gifts)" - Aaron Copland
15. "Thanksgiving" - George Winston
16. "Cold Turkey" - John Lennon
17. "We Need a Little Christmas" - Angela Lansbury and cast of Mame
Really want XTC's "Harvest Festival", but, sadly, Apple Venus Vol 1 is at my other home. Also wanted "Food" from Altman's Popeye, and Tom Lehrer's "Everybody Eats", but they are exceedingly difficult to find.
*Or, what my mom calls "The Song Where She Sounds Like She's Being Goosed"
Why are you in Tavie's head? 2:52 AM | shower me with attention
Happy Throgsgrafen Day!
Why are you in Tavie's head? 1:21 AM | shower me with attention
Wednesday, November 26, 2003
The sooner we get Thanksgiving over with, the sooner Christmas can begin. With that in mind, I'm gonna get a headstart and link this. More gravy, please!
Why are you in Tavie's head? 3:51 AM | shower me with attention
Holiday plans? Yes, I got 'em. I'll be eating this Thanksgiving, just like last year. Eating. Fancy, no?
But this year will be different: yes, I still plan to wear the traditional pajamas, and yes, I'll almost definitely be carbing myself a few new chins; but this year, for the first time, my aunt (known as Tante Joan) will be joining us. She usually goes to Thanksgiving at my uncle's family's house, but since he and TJ have split up, and she sold the house, there's nothing but for her to come spend the day in this ramshackle, dusty book-storage warehouse!
And then, we discovered that Gina would be spending her Thanksgiving in the Manor watching tv with the cats, so she's coming over too!
And then, we discovered that Andrew's family isn't doing anything for Thanksgiving, so before he goes to dine on vegetarian delights with his girlfriend's family, he'll be here, stuffing himself with birdflesh!
Seven people sharing a meal in this apartment. Couldn't you just--? Isn't it just the--? Wowie-zowie!
And we're eating early-early-early, because at 2 or 3, my parents have to leave for the airport and their trip to Vienna. Sheesh.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 3:16 AM | shower me with attention
Oh my godddd I want to make this. Why does it have to be on 15 skeins of expensive-y yarn?
Why are you in Tavie's head? 12:34 AM | shower me with attention
Tuesday, November 25, 2003
Yesterday in art class, my teacher:
1. ...admitted-- no, bragged about being a member of some official society of pedants. And if he was joking, he didn't do it very well. "I'm a pedantic snob, and here's my proof!"
(No, he didn't say that. That's just what it sounded like by the time it hit my ears.)
And yet I don't dislike him. He laughed at my jokes. The whole class did. That's how I stayed awake yesterday: I made jokes, and every time the whole class laughed, I woke up a little more.
2. ...went off on a tangent about synaesthesia. He tied it into art by way of Kandinsky, but I was able to keep my mouth shut even though I wanted to stand up and shout, "I taste words! I taste words!"
(Yes, I always think "I see dead people" when I say that, too.)
Also, I knew a lot more about synaesthesia in general than he did, but I kept my mouth shut. Except to make jokes.
By the way, everyone really liked Scary Jesus Mask. And I think my mom does too. She wants to hang it up. So apparently my aim in art should be to create the stupidest things possible. If I think it's stupid, everyone will love it!
Why are you in Tavie's head? 6:54 PM | shower me with attention
I am a big anxious loser who will not be in Latin tonight because of being a sleepy, caffeine-deprived, over-sleeping and yet still feeling sleep-deprived, anxious, anxious, anxious loser.
Nerves nerves nerves.
I emailed my professor. He's really swell, he'll help me. My anthro professor was really swell, so why wouldn't my Latin professor be? He calls me Tavie, that's gotta mean he's a really good guy. Please please, I can't go out in that cold with this headache and these nerves.
Also my art class turned out fine.
So you see, all I need is for it to be okay that I'm not going to Latin tonight.
Nerves nerves nerves nerves nerves. Anxious loser. Nerves. Oh my head.
It's a holiday. Half my classes didn't show up yesterday because it's Thanksgiving week. This isn't the terriblest thing I've ever done... right right right right right? Yes yes yes yes yes. Nerves nerves nerves nerves nerves.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 6:39 PM | shower me with attention
Ha ha, guess what I haven't done yet:
homework of any kind
The most impressive one is the second. Almost 24 hours now!
But guess what I HAVE done:
cuddled the Maya and the Inca.
I have razor-straight priorities!
Why are you in Tavie's head? 12:12 AM | shower me with attention
Monday, November 24, 2003
Wait wait wait wait wait-- I thought they found porn or something. So... they haven't got any actual evidence on Michael Jackson? All they have is another allegation?
Nope, that ain't enough for me. I'm back to feeling sorry for this man. This is witch huntery.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 9:13 PM | shower me with attention
Whew. Anthro professor was so delighted by my having attended the triple-A's that she didn't seem to notice at all that I'd missed three classes, and recommended a companion ethnography for my final project. One down, one to go.
Hey, wireless access at school. I should bring my laptop in more often.
By the way, I'm so exhausted right now that I'm pretty sure I'm going to die.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 4:12 PM | shower me with attention
I love my sister, I love my dad. I love them because they are great people. They have their faults, and so do I. Big deal. They're wonderful people, and they love me, and they're smart and they're good and they're honest and decent and take care of me and love me.
I just needed to say that.
In other news, is coffee really the best idea right now? No. But can I make it out of here without it? Also, no.
When is this crap gonna end?
Why are you in Tavie's head? 1:41 PM | shower me with attention
Primus: Happy Cheryl Day!
Secundus: Well that was exhausting. That trip. I'm back. I've been home for about 20 minutes. In about half an hour I leave for school. I feel very anxious and far behind. I missed a Latin quiz, a couple of anthro homeworks, art crap, I haven't done any reading for my final project, and I haven't showered since yesterday. (Blogging is more important than showering or I'd be doing it now.) I'm a bundle of exhausted anxiety. What else is new. That was me all week. And no real sleep. Four hours last night, maybe. I miss being allowed to sleep in cars.
Tertius: But it sure was great to spend time with The McHotsons, Francis and Adrienne! They're tons of fun and I love them and make no apologies for loving them even though you're not supposed to love people right away-- apparently you're supposed to start out not loving them and build up to it or something. I go the other way around. Apparently that's wrong but I don't care.
Quartus: Boy did I miss my kitties. Sometimes I'd be spacing out with exhaustion and suddenly I'd see Inca-Stinka's little pink nose floating in space, tantalizing and wanting to be kissed. Honestly, I actually saw it, like an hallucination.
Quintus: I got home and no one is here except the turtle and the kitties, but there was MAIL for me on the piano and do you know what it WAS? It was KOOL-AID FROM SERRA! Is it okay if I love her for that? I love her for that!
Sextus: Wow, apparently it bugs me a lot more than I thought to be told that you're not supposed to love people easily. I don't see what's wrong with loving people easily. There are all kinds of love and if it's easy for me to feel it for all sorts of people in all sorts of ways, why would that be a bad thing?
Septimus: We saw baby chicks being hatched in the science museum right before we had to drop Kitana off at the airport. It was a very whirlwind sort of week.
Octavus (who?): Jiggety jog.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 1:07 PM | shower me with attention
Friday, November 21, 2003
This has to be quick, because old people don't have wireless networks so I'm on the toll-free AOL number.
I'm at what I call Disney's Elder Manse, but what is really this incredibly swanky Hyatt-slash-Senior's-Apartments. It's set up exactly, exactly like one of the better Disney resorts, but half of it is hotel and the other half is apartments where over-65's live. Ade's adorable mom and her husband live here. They're in Florida now so we're staying here tonight, and then going back to the beach house tomorrow.
Kitana got in last night. I was going to go with them to the AAA's today, but I finally got more than 4 hours sleep last night and it's just not enough, so I'm here resting and watching the tee-vee. I'm all schmoozed out anyway. I'm not much with the schmoozing. I'm more with the snoozing.
On a final note, Stephen King('s publishing company) has some nerve charging $35 for the latest Dark Tower book. $35. Geez. That brings the list of Things That Santa Absolutely Must Get Me No Matter What up to:
So, Kirsten, please tell Santa I need those things or I will die. As if she isn't reading this right now. Go away, Santa.
Thursday, November 20, 2003
I'm in the lobby of a Chicago Hilton right now and I feel just wretched. I think the problem was that I had so much damned caffeine yesterday that I woke last night after only four hours of sleep with heart palpitations, then couldn't sleep for the rest of the night. And now here I am, consuming even more caffeine so I can stay awake, and just aching all over with exhaustion. It is impossible to sit through paper readings and lectures when you feel like this. It just hurts.
The worst is, I can't even nap because although no one would bother me if I fell asleep on a lobby couch, I'm too caffeinated to do anything but sit here and ache.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:59 AM | shower me with attention
I'm in an incredible beach house on the shore of Lake Michigan in an enormous bed in a room all to myself.
Yet I keep waking up after only a few hours' sleep at a time. This fragmented sleep results in hyperconsumption of caffeine during the day, which leads to more waking up at 2 am with heart palpitations.
Lucky those waves on the shore are so soothing and rhythmic.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 2:49 AM | shower me with attention
Monday, November 17, 2003
I have faith that my charming, apologetic, explanatory email to my professor will make everything okay again. Either that or I'll just blow her away with my final paper.
As for art class, they'll just have to wait until next week for the unveiling of Scary Jesus Mask. Poor dears.
But I just couldn't fall asleep until almost 10 a.m.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 5:31 PM | shower me with attention
Didn't go to school today. That's three missed anthro classes in a row. Three, three, THREE missed anthro classes in a row, ah-ah-ah! (Lightning crashes)
Why are you in Tavie's head? 5:22 PM | shower me with attention
I think it's nice when you can point to something and say, "This is the stupidest thing I have ever created." This week's art homework, an acrylic-on-canvas which I think I will entitle Scary Jesus Mask, definitely wins the prize.
I have zero feel for composition, balance, harmony, texture, chiaroscuro, perspective or meaning. And I don't care. Jimmy crack corn.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 5:31 AM | shower me with attention
Why don't I remember Slotek writing about Kitana at that long-ago charity auction in his column (quoting me in the process, which makes it an even better story, in my opinion. ;)
I know I should go to bed.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 4:20 AM | shower me with attention
Why are you in Tavie's head? 3:38 AM | shower me with attention
Should I sleep, paint my homework, or read a Harry Potter book?
The first one.
Will I sleep, paint my homework, or read a Harry Potter book?
I'm betting on the last.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 3:27 AM | shower me with attention
Sunday, November 16, 2003
So I'm going to Chicago for the Anthro Convention (my... third? I think?) and my flight is on Tuesday morning (which means... no sleep! And two missed days of classes) and I come back the following Monday morning. Yaaaaaaaaaaaay!
I'm working on a personal art project that I find extraordinarily hilarious, but if I weren't the one making it I would find it stupid and offensive. I can't wait 'til it's ready to be scanned. What name do you like better: "Ice Cream is a Wish Your Heart Makes" or "The Disney Fatass Collection"?
Why are you in Tavie's head? 10:28 PM | shower me with attention
Went to Andrew's birthday dinner tonight, starring both of his parents, which was lovely. And my memories of Christmas caroling in snowy 1980's Brooklyn with my parents and their weird friends are absolutely not false ones; apparently, Uncle Tom actually has this documented on Betamax video.
In other news, if I could become Hand-Dyed Kool-Aid Fuzzy Hand-Felted Hand-Knitted Slipper Maker to the Stars, I would do it for a living. I made the most amazing pair of slippers for $4 in yarn and $0.90 in Kool-Aid. I should be living in Hollywood, charging the cast of Friends $200 a pair.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 10:17 PM | shower me with attention
Shit. That is so much more money than I can afford...
Why are you in Tavie's head? 4:54 AM | shower me with attention
Saw Littleman tonight at the UCB Theatre, starring the hilarious Mike Birbiglia, a guy who thinks he's the new Terry Jones but really isn't all that funny, a girl who was very funny even though she made fun of people who get married at Disney World which made my friends laugh at me because I would totally get married at Disney World in an unironic way and they know it, a guy named Conrad who was okay but didn't particularly stand out, and, my personal sketch-comedy favourite, Grandma Guy (from such bloggy anecdotes as the one about me being in a supermarket muttering to myself). Grandma Guy's real name is Brian Donovan. He is the funniest improvisor since Kevin McDonald.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 2:42 AM | shower me with attention
Friday, November 14, 2003
I wish I was Tallulah Bankhead.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 3:15 PM | shower me with attention
I can't believe I was allowed to drink acid dye as a kid. With like nineteen cups of sugar per pitcher.
What's wrong with parents?
By the way, if you find exotic colours of unsweetened Kool-Aid packets in your local supermarket and send them to me, I will send you valuable handmade prizes...
Why are you in Tavie's head? 6:35 AM | shower me with attention
My baby brother is turning 20 on Sunday. I dasn't believe it. He's grown into the sort of young man you can leave with your doddering old father for hours at a time.
Today I learned that I don't have to show up to music class for the rest of the semester. She's dropping the lowest test score, and said that if we've done well on the first three tests, we don't have to take the final at all. I got a grade of A+ (imagine the scene in A Christmas Story where Ralphie gets so many A plusses that the teacher has to write them on the walls all around the classroom... A plus...plus...plus...plus....) on all three tests, and handed in the one assignment she had us do, so I'm done with that, consarnit.
So how 'bout that crazy weather we've been having? Last night going outside was like stepping into the London of Jack the Ripper, and earlier was a blustery day to end all blustery days. What's tomorrow, hail of frogs?
Why are you in Tavie's head? 4:11 AM | shower me with attention
Thursday, November 13, 2003
My left hand is disgusting. Kit and I dyed some yarn the other night with Kool-Aid and I used my left hand to squish the first batch into the orange Kool-Aid. The colour has caked into the cracks of my fingernails, outlining them in bright orange. It looks like I've been eating a lot of Cheez Doodles. No amount of scrubbing will make the colour disappear.
I am a poor, dirty, penniless, wind-blown, disheveled, barefoot, smudge-faced mess. (Except for the last two.)
Why are you in Tavie's head? 4:26 PM | shower me with attention
In an uncharacteristic move, I went to Mint Manor on Tuesday night after class because it was Kitana's last night with us, and I have no school on Wednesdays. I do, however, have school on Thursdays. But I decided to take the plunge and stay Wednesday night too, get up on Thursday and take the bus to the PATH station. This is something that Stephanie has been doing every day, and I figured I should learn how to do it too, seeing as I really can't afford the $15 cab fares.
I woke up to howling winds around noon. The winds were so loud, they actually woke me up. I thought perhaps the world was ending, or I was in the Land of Oz's version of public transportation, but it was just really super windy out.
I fumbled with the coffee, got half a cup down, and then saw what time it was; according to the bus schedule, I had ten minutes until it would arrive. That's when I broke the top to the cookie jar. I was looking for a to-go mug in the cupboard, and the lid of the Christmas cookie jar, part of the Mint Manor Christmas Tradition, came tumbling down and smashed on the ground. I am the clumsiest of oafs. I may have ruined Mint Manor Christmas permanently.
But I made it to the bus stop in ample time.
Yeah, really ample time. I stood in the howling winds for an hour before the bus, which was scheduled to arrive every half hours, arrived. The people who print up those schedules are the filthiest sort of dirty liars. I hate them all a whole lot.
I missed my anthro class, but I don't care. At least I'm at school now, where it's warm.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 4:09 PM | shower me with attention
Wednesday, November 12, 2003
Wealth of great time-wastin' pleasure from Boing Boing lately.
This page of old breakfast cereals based on various cartoons and toys brought back some great memories. I can still sing the Nintendo Cereal jingle (Nintendo-- it's for breakfast now! Nintendo-- it's a cereal-- WOW!) and the Barbie Cereal jingle (Hurry up, don't be late, got a breakfast date... with Barbie!) But my favourite obscure cereal memory is on this page: scroll down to the Swedish Chef cereal: Post's Croonchy Stars. It had, hands-down, the most entertaining box I've ever seen.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 5:05 PM | shower me with attention
Tuesday, November 11, 2003
Stephanie sent me the following:
Mom Finds Out About Blog
(Go away, mom.)
Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:07 PM | shower me with attention
Is it weird that every time The American President is on, I find myself watching the whole thing?
Why are you in Tavie's head? 4:11 AM | shower me with attention
Monday, November 10, 2003
Today I suffered through the most boring art class of my entire life. First we had to take an easy test. Then we had to sit there for two hours straight without a break while he slooooooooowly commented on some people's homework, one at a time, detail by detail, not involving or engaging any of us. And we had to pretend like we were listening and interested. Without my crossword it was slow, painful torture.
But when I got home, my Guardian Angel had emailed me her NYTimes Premium Crossword password, and I printed this week's out. Thank you, Jebus, my suffering is at an end.
Now I have to memorize about fifteen classical and romantic pieces of music, all with names like "Symphony No. 40 in G Minor", or else all composed by people named Schu-something. And all with very similar dates. 1787 (Eine Klein Nacht Musik, NOT written by Sondheim). 1798 (Beethoven's String Quartet in C Minor). 1788 (Mozart's Symphony No. 40 in G Minor). 1791. (Haydn's Surprise Symphony in G Major.)
At least one of them is Beethoven's Fifth Symphony, first movement, 1808, allegro con brio. But I bet you a million dollars that one won't even be on the test.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:45 PM | shower me with attention
From Boing Boing: Create your own portrait. Awesome. (The one linked is mine, and pretty damn close. The ears are off because I can't imagine my own ears.)
Why are you in Tavie's head? 4:49 PM | shower me with attention
Does anyone have a copy of this week's Sunday Times magazine? Or just the crossword puzzle? I didn't get it this week and that makes me very sad.
Even a scan would do...
I'll go mad if I have to sit through my classes without it.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 5:49 AM | shower me with attention
I'm so confused...
I was wandering around the apartment, sleepy but unable to let myself go to bed without finding something in this dusty library of insanity that I am remotely interested in reading. I was picking up and dropping books left and right... The Twenty-One Balloons, The Naked Civil Servant, Zen in the Art of Archery, Orlando; Robertson Davies, D.H. Lawrence, John Irving, Stephen Fry; everything looked interesting, and then I started to read it and my eyes glazed over.
Because, duh, dummy, you're so tired you can't keep your eyes open. (It's the fear of going to sleep again, which is the reason I need a book in the first place, so the last thing going through my head before I drop off can be fiction. What I really need is a shrink.)
Irony (?): after sitting dumbly on a folding chair in front of a bookshelf, tossing aside paperback after paper back, I finally stood up in despair (You've lost the ability to read for pleasure. It's over for good.) and staggered off towards bed. On my way I bumped my hip on that little triangular bookshelf next to the piano. Almost caused an avalanche. Didn't. But that's how I managed to notice that fucking book that I've been going mad looking for all week. Just sitting there on top. I probably put it there absent mindedly a week ago and then had a complete memory wipe and spent the rest of the week tearing the apartment apart looking for it? And it was there all the time?
Which brings me to the bit that's frightening me:
These memory lapses, this inability to concentrate, this fear to sleep, this constant, daily misplacement of things:
Why is my brain rotting? Am I sick? What's wrong with me? Do I need a doctor? Do I have a disease? Are these symptoms of something? Help me?
I was not always like this.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 5:37 AM | shower me with attention
Nothing can ruin my Christmas spirit. Despite the overrated window displays and the sickening crush of humanity, the obliteration of one-sixth of my small family, the long absence of Rumplemeyer's and the fact that I would break Santa's knee and he's not the real Santa anyway at Macy's (he sits on a THRONE OF LIES!), nothing can dampen my Christmas cheer.
Because I am Tavie and it is my job. I think I was really born an elf but raised human, like the inverse of Will Ferrell in that movie. I am the buyer and erector of Christmas trees, the sender of cards (maybe not this year, I'm very broke, but I still love you), the singer of carols, the planner of walking tours, the disappointed but still hopeful fan of nighttime strolls through the twinkly, reindeer-laced Bronx Zoo, the maker of the best real hot chocolate, the enforcer of the watching of the same Christmas specials over and over, the obsessive adherer to Tradition, the believer-in of Christmas miracles, and the knitter of fuzzy slippers. I'm a self-appointed angel. I'm Clarence on caffeine. I'm the anti-Grinch.
It's only November though, people-- you have to pace yourself until after the Macy's Parade. Honest. Get your stuff together but don't go crazy yet. Stay by me and it will be okay. You can start to get a little excited. I'll let you know when. Then you can bake cookies with me and we'll make green-and-red construction paper chains, you and me.
"Smiling is my FAVOURITE!"
Why are you in Tavie's head? 3:18 AM | shower me with attention
Sunday, November 09, 2003
There are a lot of great things in this world that I really, really want that I don't get to have. And here are two of them.
(Paul Rudd, and a puppy.)
Why are you in Tavie's head? 3:49 AM | shower me with attention
Wuh? Terry is trying to decide who to give his old iPod to, I'm on the list... and yet he's leaning towards his mother?
Moms don't like iPods-- TAVIES like iPods!
I'm just kidding, that'd make a great gift for her. Just as long as I'm the first alternate choice.
Hm. I gotta go knit something.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 3:41 AM | shower me with attention
Wow, apparently if you don't blog about the eclipse, it means you didn't watch it.
(I saw it, you retard. It was awesome. Doofus brain.)
Is this the new reality? If you don't blog it, it didn't happen?
Because my life is about so much more than dreams about James Marsters.
Okay, my life has slightly more in it than dreams about Marsters.
Okay, once I did something that didn't involve a dream about Marsters.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 2:15 AM | shower me with attention
Saturday, November 08, 2003
In my dream, I went into the school cafeteria with Tracy Morgan and was joined by Spike. The two of them were in animated conversation, so I got up to get a cup of coffee.
As I was filling my cup (adding mocha syrup because in dreamland, sugar is a-okay), a girl said to me, "You know the new policy, right?"
She pointed to a sign. "You can't just buy coffee. You have to buy a dessert with it or they make you leave the cafeteria. They don't want it to be full of just coffee-drinkers."
"WHAT?" I exploded. "Well FUCK THAT!!!"
A security guard rushed over to me and said, "Miss, you're going to have to leave."
"Fine," I said, "just let me get my stuff."
I took my cup of coffee back to where Spike and Tracy were still deep in their conversation. "Look," I said, "I have to get out of here, they're making me leave."
Spike looked up impatiently and said in his thick, British Spike accent, "Foine, whoy down'tchu leave then?"
"I'm going!" I huffed. "Don't hustle me, I'm carrying hot coffee!"
"Oh, I'll hustle you, love!" he said, grabbing my free hand. "I'll SPIN yew out'f here!" And he proceeded to spin me, like you would a dancing partner, me and my hot coffee right out of the cafeteria as Tracy Morgan laughed.
I woke up laughing, with the words echoing in my head, I'll SPIN yew out'f here!
Why are you in Tavie's head? 1:54 PM | shower me with attention
Friday, November 07, 2003
Maybe this is the Nyquil™ talking, but I love you. Yes, you. Don't assume I'm talking to someone else reading this; I'm talking directly to you.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 3:34 AM | shower me with attention
Thursday, November 06, 2003
I agree with Andrew: Dewey is my favourite of Donald's nephews. He's the smartest.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:16 PM | shower me with attention
You know, if The Beagle Boys didn't always dress like that, I bet they wouldn't get caught half as often.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 10:49 PM | shower me with attention
I fully intended to go to all three of my classes today, but I had to leave for the first one at 2, and my dad wasn't back with my emergency Effexor until 2:30. So I fell back asleep. And stayed asleep until about an hour ago.
I blame the meds. And my weak constitution. And my caffeine addiction. And The Man.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 7:17 PM | shower me with attention
Oh, Crissy loves the baby sweater. She got back to me a little late because it arrived just as they were getting Alina baptized.
I forgot to ask her to take a picture of it for me, I'll do it later.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 12:08 AM | shower me with attention
Wednesday, November 05, 2003
This song rocks. It's so scary.
I am gonna live in Sweden
Please don't ask me why
For if I were to give a reason
It would be a lie
Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:35 PM | shower me with attention
I still haven't found Kate's book so I'm gonna have to find a way to buy a new copy. Dammit, the first book I'm interested in reading in weeks and I lose it on the second day. Where can it possibly have gone?
Meanwhile, I'm thinking of trying Gabriel Garcia-Marquez's One Hundred Years of Solitude. Might be a mistake, might be another abandoned book on my growing pile. My only experience with magical realism was three failed attempts at getting into Isabel Allende's House of the Spirits. Hated it. Any experiences with Garcia-Marquez would be appreciated. I think I had to read a short story of his for a class once but I don't remember much about it.
But the first few pages of Solitude are pretty good so far.
And of course there's always Unca Scrooge.
It's really hard to be without my little book-friends. Very lonely. Poor little cartoon rock, hopping along with his little cartoon raincloud. Have you lost interest in the things you used to love?
Why are you in Tavie's head? 8:27 PM | shower me with attention
Whoops, snuck up on me.
Day one without Effexor. Didn't have to go anywhere so that's okay.
Day two tomorrow: I have school at 2:45. Big trouble, big trouble. Can't skip two days of meds in a row.
Wuh-oh. Wuh-oh. Whaddya mean, go to Brooklyn tomorrow morning and get a new prescription? Are you daffy, lady? First of all, you have no business reading my blog so get outta here. Second of all, you want me to get on a subway platform when I'm this dizzy? I've fallen down the stairs in the past on my way to fetching my morning dosage. Fallen down the stairs. Sure I'll go to Brooklyn and get a new prescription, but my legs might have to stay behind when they're severed by the oncoming train after I topple into the tracks.
Does anyone know how the world works? Call in an emergency prescription. Doctors have phones and beepers and everything.
Now get off my blog.
And, by the way, you're on the Effexor too, so you'd better not go to work until we get some in. I don't wanna scrape your legs off the tracks either.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 8:21 PM | shower me with attention
Watching An American in Paris for the first time and I'm finding Gene Kelly's character to be a boorish pig. This is supposed to be charming? And I like Gene Kelly a lot.
But, come on, with the damn dancing already. Just stop dancing. And court someone at least half your age.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 7:41 PM | shower me with attention
What's yer pirate name?
Your pirate name is:
Mad Anne Bonney
Every pirate is a little bit crazy. You, though, are more than just a little bit. You can be a little bit unpredictable, but a pirate's life is far from full of certainties, so that fits in pretty well. Arr!
Why are you in Tavie's head? 2:58 PM | shower me with attention
Tuesday, November 04, 2003
Look, a movie with a character named Tavie in it. That's the first one I've come across.
'Course it's French so it probably has something to do with "life", and is probably pronounced all wrong. But still.
Why are you in