My deepest condolences go to Green Dusty for the loss of his beautiful and sweet dog, Lady.
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WEEKEND RECAP
FRIDAY
We began the evening by stopping at the Shitty Market in our old hood for movie snacks, before strolling down to Pacific Place to see The Brother’s Grimm. I was delighted to find not only BOTTLES of Blackthorn’s for sale, but also CANS of Strongbow. I felt like I was back in London for a brief moment. The Strongbow beckoned me and I had to purchase a 4-pack for the movie.
Oh Terry Gilliam. How the mighty have fallen. The movie wasn’t BAD certainly. But one has come to expect more from such a man than a cliché script, fairly ho-hum visuals and a whole bunch of jokes about the French. There were one or two cool Gilliam-esque special effects and I must say that the acting was, for the most part, enjoyable. Matt Damon isn’t terrible, even if his accent is (it’s reminiscent of a region of England that Meep would call Genericshire). Heath Ledger was only as annoying as his lines, though he played his character inexplicably gay. Perhaps he was preparing for his upcoming gay cowboys eating pudding film? Jonathan Pryce was, well, Jonathan Pryce, and therefore great, if not underused. It was delightful to see Gareth, even though he is well on his was to Type-cast Town. Overall, however, the film was a bit of a yawn, and that hurts coming from the man who made Time Bandits. It was almost saved by a hinted-at moment of homoeroticism, but they chickened out. Damn you, PG-13!
Meep, Dom and I all felt similar about our luke-warm feelings toward the film. Borg liked it. Krk, a die-hard Python and Gilliam fan, was pretty devastated. So devastated, in fact, that he could only go home and go to bed. The rest of us went back up the hill for a late-night snack and drink at the Canterbury. I was only two Strongbows ahead of everyone else. The Canterbury was fairly uneventful apart from the French-fry orgy.
SATURDAY
I had planned to go to yoga but I decided to forgo exercise for finishing Season One of Battlestar Galactica. As most of you know, it ended in true That-Carnivale-Guy fashion by making everything very open-ended and effed up. Thanks, guy! Even if you are sometimes mediocre, you really know how to leave your audience hungry for more. Luckily, Ben is going to get us caught up on Season Two thanks to his TeVo.
I did my yoga video, which is in no way as intense as the Bikram, but still reasonably effective, and then we got ready to go to Brugos’ Birthday Dodecacathelon. Oh happy day! We loaded the DDR in the car and the Troika + Sherrard headed Brugos-way for a day of games and drinking!
Well, games for everyone else. For me and Meep, it was all DDR all the time. Some of the games we didn’t participate in included Tang (something to do with speed-drinking), Egg-Tossing, Botchee Ball (sp?), and Keg Stands. To our surprise, Sherrard took part in the Keg Stands not once, but TWICE, consequently propelling him into instant drunkenness very early on. The party was, as Sherrard pointed out, a Sausage Fest. The result of this is many many drunken, shirtless men running around being obnoxious. This isn’t as sexy as it sounds. But I didn’t care. I was playing DDR. Meep and I got in round after round. For a long time uninitiated people would periodically pop their heads in and laugh at us before running to the backyard to binge drink. Eventually, a nice, open-minded couple (of course I’ve forgotten their names) who’d never DDR’d before showed up and were intrigued. They played a few rounds, and before long, they were just as addicted as us. The guy actually turned out to be some sort of prodigy, going from “beginner” mode to “light” (which is a fucking misnomer if I’ve ever heard it) mode with ease. Before long, he was playing everyone in light mode while they stayed on beginner and was KILLING the competition. Amazing. After dinner, Meep and I started drinking. For a while, the alcohol seemed to be helping. But only for a little while…
Things started to get a little hazy after that. I noticed the house was getting pretty trashed. I feel kinda bad for the Birthday Boy, who doubtless spent all day yesterday hung over and cleaning. I know there were conversations in the backyard, people eating raw eggs and running laps, a pie-eating contest, Borg, and some other guy jamming in the basement with Dom on drums. Meep and I sang “El Scorcho”. There was some playing with Brugos’ cat, Lucy. There was a crazy Russian guy who broke all Keg Stand records (I think his best was 45 seconds or something) and then passed out on the lawn. There were some drunk jerks (who were probably jerks sober as well) running around insulting people. There were some drunken declarations of admiration (in which I participated). And finally, there was karaoke on the X-Box. The selection was rather limited but I sang not one, but TWO Skid Row songs and had a fucking blast. I also got in a horrific rendition of “Cum On Feel the Noise”. Luckily, I got help on both that song and “I Remember You”. I need more butt rock on our at-home karaoke system, man. It reminded me of sophomore year of college when I hung out with Beth, Allison, Ann and KT at their on-campus house. Erik would pull out the acoustic guitar and we would sing all the butt-rock favorites until the sun came up. I’m telling you, Warrant is the perfect campfire sing-a-long band.
ANYWAY, at 2 or so (I think), poor Dom had to drive all our hammered asses back to the hill. At least I’m pretty sure he had a good time before people became incoherent.
SUNDAY
I may have had two bottles of Cook’s to myself, but it was over the course of 10 hours (yes, the party was that long. Longer, in fact, as we arrived late. THAT is why everyone was so useless by the end of the night.) That and sweating out the booze as I dance dance revolutioned all night. Furthermore, Dom was an angel with the water-bringing. So all I needed was to sleep in till 11 and I was fine.
Sunday was mine and Dom’s 3-year anniversary. Our big plans started with beginning Deadwood Season One. Then we showered and went to the Interbay Golf Course for some mini-golf. The weather held up nicely. Mini-golf was fun apart from the 4-5 year-old girl and her grandma who were speeding through the holes behind us and chasing us through the course. We would have let them play through but they would finish their last hole when we were ¾ through our hole and so it seemed like waiting would take forever. Instead, we finished the whole course in under an hour. Then we stopped at Fred Meyer in Ballard for a quick, romantic shopping trip, before going to dinner at Louis’ Chinese Restaurant. The food was really good, but about half-way through our meal, it became family hour. After dinner, we decided to drive to the U-District to see if we could catch a movie. We decided on The Aristocrats. See Mark, we DO see indie films in the theatre sometimes! We probably should have picked something else though. In retrospect, it seems like a waste to spend $9 on a mini-DV documentary. Overall, the film was interesting, but really not that funny. It wasn’t OFFENSIVE or anything. It was just kind of mediocre humor. Plus, I’m not a very big fan of most of the comedians they featured. Give me the Comedians of Comedy over Drew Carey any day. Plus, I don’t think I like seeing comedies with American audiences. They are so eager to laugh that they don’t really stop to think if the joke is funny or not. They just recognize the fact that they’ve just heard a punch line and so they laugh right on cue. This is, I think, why Meep, Dom and I tend to find ourselves laughing out loud in a silent theatre and vice versa. We actually LISTEN to what’s being said and, if it strikes us as funny, we laugh. It can’t be that our sense of humor is SO VASTLY different than the rest of the country’s, can it?
And thus endeth the anniversary date and the weekend.
NEXT WEEKED: Meep and I celebrate a finished script, and I take Sherwood to Bumbershoot for his Birthday.
Titular
Last night DZ and I went to a free screening of the film The Baxter, the movie that gives my surname a turkey-like connotation. The director, Michael Showalter, was to be in attendance. In the interest of protecting the innocent (us), I shall heretofore use pseudonyms for the antagonists of the story. As DZ and I waited in line, we were shocked to witness a rare event: A prominent figure in the local film making scene. Let’s call him James Lipton, was HIMSELF checking people’s names off the list. “Oh great,” I said to DZ. “This should be interesting,” I thought to myself. Mr. Lipton approached us and took our names. As I suspected, he recognized DZ’s name (from the numerous times DZ has sought out assistance from him, or invited him to a screening of OURS to no avail. The following exchange took place between DZ and Mr. Lipton as I stood off to the side willing my eyes to stop rolling.
Lippy: DZ! You do animation, right?
DZ: Uh…no. But I make movies.
Lippy: (with a look of complete, smarmy ignorance) And when am I going to see one of your movies?
DZ: Well, we submitted one to One Reel.
Lippy: Oh yeah? Which one was yours?
DZ: Snow Day, Bloody Snow Day.
Lippy: Ah yes. I remember that one. It was good. You came very close. But as I said in my [rejection] email, we had to make room for a lot of retrospective stuff. That takes up around six hours of programming. (DZ nods). Well, keep making movies!
I don’t actually remember what he said as a closing statement. It might not have been “Keep making movies”. But around the time he said “We HAD to make room for a lot of retrospective stuff”, my ears filled with blood and I went deaf with rage. I’m sure whatever he said was equally as dismissive. You HAD to make room for retrospective stuff?! Because there’s not enough of THAT in Seattle? It’s not like we have TWO THEATRES dedicated to showing retrospective works or anything. Who wants a film festival dedicated entirely to the works of local filmmakers? That would be BORING. I’m really glad Meep wasn’t there to see that. Actually, I’m NOT glad she wasn’t there because it would have been REALLY cool to see her shoot laser beams out her eyes and make his head explode. Sure, it would have been messy, but SOOOOO worth it.
Anyway, that little incident concluded, we went into the theatre and settled in for the movie. Another nemesis (a local editor who is EEEEEVIL), sat down across the aisle from us. Lippy came down to the front of the theatre to introduce the movie, doing his usual sycophantic/morning D.J. shpiel of getting the audience to repeat things back to him and cheer for various other projects that the director has been involved in. For the record, I only conceded out of my admiration for the director in question. Anywho, the movie began and I could tell immediately that it was going to be very different from Wet Hot American Summer or Stella. It was very subdued. Very quiet. Almost formulaic. But the cast was spot on and there were many little quirky moments of Stella-ness (non-televised Stella, I might add) thrown in. Justin Theroux was HILARIOUS. The man has got the looks AND the comedic chops. I was pleased to see Peter Dinklage in a role that doesn’t make reference to his stature. He is a very fantastic, understated actor. Many of the Stella/State favorites were there including David and the other Michael, Zach Orth, Joe Lo Truglio, A.J. Miles and even Ken Marino! And I don’t care what anybody says, I like Michelle Williams. She is really very good at being cute and likable. Sometimes it’s hard to look past her Jen Lindley years, but I think she definitely put Jen behind her in this movie. Overall, I would say that the film is worth watching at least twice, but I definitely prefer the Wet Hots of the world. As far as romantic comedies go, however (being a genre that I typically find intolerable), it was very enjoyable and just quirky enough to keep me from losing interest.
After the movie, Lippy introduced Mike Show who is surprisingly reticent without the company of his Stella cohorts. I was also a bit taken aback at seeing him, not only NOT in a suit, but dressed in a very indie looking plaid shirt and jeans. I’m sure he doesn’t wear a suit every day, but I’d gotten so used to seeing him like that. Anyway, Lippy asked his own questions for a while before opening it up to the floor. Here’s where the REAL fun started. God, I hate James Lipton audiences. They try so hard to ask questions that sound insightful and original, but instead they come off as snobbish or sycophantic or just plain crazy.
When Lippy mentioned the editing of the film, Eeeeeevil Editor actually CLAPPED. Why? Because he wanted Lippy and Show to acknowledge HIM. And it WORKED. “Oh, are you an editor?”, asked Lippy? WHO CARES? This isn’t YOUR Q&A! Later, Eeeeevil Editor asked a question about the editing and you could tell that he wanted Show to ask him a question in return. “That’s how WE edited The Baxter. How do YOU edit YOUR movies, Eeeeevil?”
Other stupid questions included:
“Did you have a dwarf in mind when you were writing the wedding planner character?” Answer: No.
A question about the plot that I won’t go into detail about for risk of spoilers, but rest assured that anyone who paid attention to the film would have already known the answer.
And finally…”When is The State coming out on DVD?”
Answer: “I don’t know.”
There were a few good questions in there too. Not everyone at these things is developmentally challenged. Someone asked if “the Baxter” is a real term. Answer: “No. I made it up.” Essentially, Show wanted a word that sounded nebbish and square and a bit old fashioned and that’s what he came up with. The person who asked the question said “Well, I think it works perfectly”. HEY!!!! But yes, it does. Damn.
Someone asked why Show decided to go it alone on this one and he answered that it’s a story he’s been thinking about for a while and it’s basically another side of him that he’s wanted to explore. But he can’t really do that with the other guys around because it always ends up being about dildos and necrophilia. Heh.
I really want to know what these directors think of James Lipton when they come to Seattle. Do they think he’s a tool? Do they think that he revered by all the people that are on his list? Do they think he’s a swell guy?
Despite all my bitching, I would say that it was an enjoyable experience. It was a good movie which I will see again (with Meep, whose crush on Justin Theroux is doubtless going to skyrocket) and it was cool to see a different side of Michael Showalter. But damn that James Lipton.
thu
I missed YET ANOTHER opportunity to see a preview of Serenity. This time it was through the Warren Report. I JUST checked the website yesterday afternoon and then checked it again yesterday evening. During that time, Serenity had been posted and filled up. It’s ok. I have always assumed I was just going to see it for the first time on opening night. But it’s a bit frustrating because who the hell ARE these people that either have fantastic timing, or troll the relevant sites 24/7? In addition, this sort of thing makes me fear for opening night. I realize now that this is likely to be something of LOTR proportions. And that’s GREAT for Joss and the Browncoats because it means we will probably be treated to two more Serenity films. But it also means that no matter where the movie is playing (Cinerama?), I will probably have to get in line straight after work.
I am also sad to report that Dom will be out of town on opening night. The Troika will not be seeing it together. I only hope that Dom will be able to find someone equally (or at least MARGINALLY) excited to see it with him on opening night in Hell-A.
I think I can already hazard a guess as to whom else out of my faithful LJ-ers are planning on descending on their local cinema in coats of brown on 9/30. The day draws nigh, my friends.
No start he monorail slab
WEEKEND UPDATE
FRIDAY
The evening began at the really delicious Samui That. Faye and I were still suffering from some sort of mental allergy to an overdose of gorgonzola cheese the night before. (I’m only partially joking. Faye and I are both allergic to penicillin. However, we only react to moldy cheeses a fraction of the time. Well, Faye made a lovely gorgonzola pasta and afterward, I developed a small rash and Faye and I were mentally whacked for the entire next day.) So Faye was feeling pretty weird and I was acting silly without the influence of drugs or alcohol. I think Dom was a little freaked. Anyway, we ate a delicious dinner in the company of Ben and, later, Borgia. After dinner, we stopped at the QFC for enforcements. Dom headed home to work. The rest of us were regrettably late arriving to Sherrard’s place to watch one of the performances on the Bill Hicks DVD. When we arrived, Sherrard and Dan were listening to the David Hasselhoff album “Night Rocker”, which, in my gorgonzola haze, sounded to me like Talking Heads. I was overjoyed when Sherrard handed me my very own copy! We opened our booze, marveled at the lovely job Sherrard had done decorating his flat, (we hadn’t been there since he’d first moved in), and set about watching the DVD. It was a performance that I’d never seen before. I had heard many of the jokes, but Hicks is remarkable at making each of his “bits” come off as completely off-the-cuff and organic every time. This is probably because the comedy of Hicks isn’t your typical “do you ever notice…?” act. Instead, it’s Hicks the Profit speaking directly from the heart about all the ways in which the world is fucked up and how easy it would be to fix it all if we just stopped being assholes and loved each other. Of course, this is all delivered using hilarious analogies, characters like Goat Boy, and sound effects galore. So you don’t even realize how truly poetic it is until the end when he signs off with a completely earnest message about love and you notice the tears streaming down your face. I may have listened to his records many times, but Hicks was a performer. He needs to be watched to truly appreciate his impact. It becomes horrifically apparent how true it is that nothing gold can stay. There are many people who think Bill Hicks is funny. I don’t think enough of those people comprehend that he was actually trying to change people’s perceptions and make the world a better place. Thank you, Sherrard, for sharing the DVD with us.
After we dried our tears, we followed Ben to the Canterbury. I had finished a bottle of wine, I believe, by myself. Faye had not yet begun to drink. I’m not sure if it made a difference though. At that point, I was pretty obliterated so the rest of the evening zoomed past and we closed out the Canterbury.
SATURDAY
Dom allowed me to tag along on his date to meet Matt, the Script Reader. We had coffee and Matt asked us questions about producing that, well, only Dom could answer. He then took off to watch the Stranger Amateur Porn contest and Dom and I set about preparing for the Fundue Party! We bought some groceries and then started cleaning. I took a shower and changed into one of my mom’s old dresses from the 70’s. Around 3:30, I chopped bread, fruit and broccoli and then watched The Station Agent, which ended with just enough time for me to start cooking the fondue. I just made a Swiss fondue and a Gruyere and Swiss without alcohol for Dom. I also had some mircrowaveable vegan chocolate fondue for dessert. Meanwhile, Dom put on his brown sharkskin suit. We were ready to party. Brugos and Faye arrived on time and we chowed down. I was a little annoyed that people arrived late, being that it was a dinner party. But, for some reason, a lot of people THOUGHT that it started at 8 (who eats at 8?! New Yorkers?) and so they didn’t think they were late. In attendance at that point were Aiyana, Andrew, and Ben. Aiyana brought a lovely vegetarian fish loaf that looked awesome. Dan and Sherrard arrived around 8:45 and scooped up the last of the cheese. We were already well into a game a Cranium at that point. Kayobi arrived around 9 and, hopefully, got something to eat. Then we broke out the Taboo! Faye and I were forbidden to be on the same team which I still resent. But neither of our teams won. Team Ben proved victorious with Team Aiyana coming in 2nd and Team Cunt (my team), in 3rd. The losing team became the proud owners of a can of “Potted Meat Food Product” which I’d purchased some weeks back for Sherrard at QFC as a joke but neglected to give it to him. Given that Kayobi and I are both vegetarians, the potted meat was Sherrard’s. Fate had brought it to it’s rightful owner at last. After Sherred read the ingredients out loud, (which I found on line!), we HAD to open the can.
The first thing we noticed was the smell. It was similar to, but less pleasant than the Fancy Feast that my kitties enjoy every night. Second, in the middle of a cylindrical lump of “potted meat” was a hole, as if a factory worker had decided to stick their penis in there “just out of curiosity” right before sealing up the can. There was no going back. Someone had to taste it. Sherrard, brave man that he is, and who, as a result of his time in Taiwan, also has a history of consuming the inconsumable, got a fork and scooped up a small piece. He stuck his tongue on the offending morsel and immediately noticed the extreme saltiness. Less than 2% of sodium indeed. Eventually, he worked it into his mouth. The look on his face, after that, was priceless. It also spurred on Ben and Dan to try it as well. No one enjoyed it in the least, but, to my knowledge, none those adventurous souls have yet contracted salmonella.
Ben, Aiyana and Andrew left us. Kayobi made the mistake of mentioning that she had watched the first 4 episodes of Buffy on the DVD that I lent her, and wasn’t as keen on them as she’d been on Firefly (her first foray into the world of Whedon). In a panic, I shoved Buffy Season 3 into her hands, but Faye had a better idea. We should just have her watch “Hush”. It doesn’t require TOO much back story to appreciate, The Gentlemen are scary as hell, and what better way to show a skeptic the genius of Joss than to show them an episode with almost no dialogue. And we think it worked! I also decided to lend her Angel Season 1 because she mentioned that it was hard to get into a show about high school kids at this stage of life, supernatural as their stories may be. When the episode was over, we turned off the DVD player to find Starship Troopers on TV. People began to trickle out the door at that point, but a few stayed on to watch the vagina slug fuck up some dudes and to briefly make fun of Denise Richards.
And that’s a party at the Zookster House.
SUNDAY
It’s amazing how easy it is to clean up from a party when the apartment was actually clean before the party began. There may be something to this whole “keeping your place tidy” thing.
Yoga was good. I’m finally back to my skill level that I was at before my month and a half of laziness. It is really hard to do Bikram when it’s 80 degrees outside though.
Back at home, I made dinner, and listened to my mom tell me some more of her government conspiracy theories. This time she thinks that the ID chips that the pound injects into the animals is another way for the government to find you and invade your privacy. I asked her what the government would want to “find” me for and she said “Anything. Anything at all. It’s just like when Nixon tried to get the government to allow televisions to have cameras installed into them so that they could watch you in your house.” I said “I think that was actually Orwell”. And she said “Exactly!” It’s around that point in the conversation when I stop trying to reason with her and just let her finish her tirade so I can eat dinner before it gets cold.
At 7, Dom and I watched the exciting conclusion to Dr. Who and I was dismayed to learn that it really WAS the conclusion. I guess we’d found it right near the end of the series. Now I really WILL need to buy the DVD’s. Damn.
Dom and I then started in on Battlestar Galactica which, despite the fact that so far they’ve over-explained the simple things and under-explained the more confusing plot points, is really really cool. And 3 episodes in, I’ve got me quite the little crush on Starbuck.
NEXT WEEKEND: Faye and I bring DDR over to Brugos’ house and spend the day alienating ourselves in his TV room!
CORRECTIONS BY DOM
Woah woah… the night didn't end after Hush! We shut off Hush and brought the lights back up. People made their exit, leaving Sherrard, Faye, Brugos and of course Jessica and I. After trying to entice people with my greatest hits of TV from the 70s and 80s – which enraged Sherrard – I was rather loudly berated into manning the karaoke machine. So I did. And for the next hour, despite telling Jessica to sing quietly, everyone did their very best to outsing everyone else. I was shot the evil eye from Sherrard and Jessica who were sure I was purposefully keeping the microphone off or at a low volume. After about 20 minutes, as expected, the allure of karaoke wore off and most folks went into the kitchen and Faye stuck it out and kept singing. It was nearly 2AM at this point and Sherrard rejoined the group, but things were a little more muted and overall we just enjoyed the videos, as usual.
THEN we turned off the karaoke and watched Starship Troopers as people left. My sober eye records all.
Thank you Dom. I can see it all now, clear as day.
And go of commission enact
Welcome to the FUCKED survey. These are all FUCKED, random, interesting, personal questions.
Baxter’s note: I wouldn’t call any of these questions “fucked”. I think the creator just wanted to write “fucked” as many times as possible to exude an air of danger. OOOOH! Anyway…
HAVE YOU EVER? …YES/NO (feel free to elaborate on your answers to make it a quasi-interesting read)
1. Given a homeless guy more than $5?
Nope.
2. Spent more than $500 on a bf/gf's gift or a night out?
What could Dom POSSIBLY spend that much money on?
3. Had sex with more than one person in a day?
No.
4. Hooked up with a good friends bf/gf behind their back?
Never.
5. Dated two people at once?
Yes. But neither was exclusive so it was ok.
6. Actually met someone from myspace that you didn't mack down on?
Clearly this is a myspace meme. And frankly, I feel like it’s accusing me of something.
8. Failed more than one class?
I failed exactly one class. Well, I didn’t FAIL. I got a D. But for some reason, at my college, a D means you have to take statistics over again.
9. Took someone's virginity when you weren't a virgin?
Yes.
10. Hooked up with someone from a different race?
Yes.
11. Ran around naked outside…daytime/night time?
Yes. It was truth or dare and…BOY was I drunk.
12. Scubadived/snorkoled?
No.
13. Want to fuck (there’s that naughty word again!) the person who posted this?
Not especially. No offense.
14. Dated someone you didn't want your friends to meet?
Heh. Actually, the crazier they were, the MORE I wanted my friends to meet them. Because I needed them to feel my pain before it was over.
15. Got your stomach pumped, from alcohol poisoning?
Luckily, no.
16. Threw up from alcohol?
Unluckily, yes.
17. Been suspended from school?
Nope. But I did get a few “demerits”. Mostly for dress code violations but one, I was especially proud of: Not bowing my head during prayer in assembly!
18. Kissed someone of the same sex?
Yep.
19. Wore a short skirt with out panties?
Not a short skirt. If I’m going commando, it’s because I don’t have any clean underwear and I’m not about to get busted by wearing a short skirt.
20. Let a guy paint your toenails?
Why would I do that?
21. Met someone famous?
Yes!
22. Saved someone's life?
Nope.
23. Seen someone die?
No. But I’ve seen a few people on their way out.
24. Killed someone?
Heh. I doubt a murderer would be filling out a meme.
25. Been in a physical fight?
Only with my brother.
26. Hooked up with someone 10yrs older or younger?
No.
27. Been arrested?
No.
28. Spent the night in jail?
I’ve never even been in a working prison. Sounds like fun though.
29. Been in more than three car accidents in a year?!
No.
30. Had sex outside?
Yes.
31. Given or gotten road head?
You know, I haven’t. And it’s not because I’m unadventurous. It’s more to do with the fact that I don’t want to die in an embarrassing fashion. I’ve pulled over to the side of the road for the goods though.
32. Had sex in your house when your parents were there?
Actually, yes. I lost my virginity with my parents downstairs. Everyone was asleep though. And our stairs were creaky enough so that I knew I wouldn’t get caught. Also, being my first time, there was NO chance of me making any noises of passion.
33. Had phone sex?
Yes. It’s not for me.
34. Been turned off by someone's personal hygiene?
Once or twice. But mostly, I don’t mind man stink.
35. Told someone you loved them when you didn't?
I don’t think so. Not for any nefarious reasons, anyway.
42. Danced on top of a bar?
No.
43. Had sex somewhere in your high school?
That would have been impossible for many reasons.
44. Bought a vibrator?
Several.
45. Been in a porn shop?
Whenever possible.
46. Been in a dance competition?
Hehe! Does DDR count?
47. Ever had a threesome?
Only in my dreams. And that’s probably where it’s best left.
48. Spent more than one night in a hospital?
No. One night is bad enough.
49. OD'd on a drug?
When you throw up from drinking, isn’t that kind of like ODing? Certainly it means you’ve had too much alcohol.
50. Lied on a retarded Myspace Bulletin Quiz?
I’d like to think of this meme as “developmentally disabled”.
Red Eye
Last night I went to see a free screening of Wes Craven’s new “thriller”, Red Eye. I wasn't expecting brilliance, of course, but, being a fan of horror, I thought it might at least be entertaining. I really should have taken it as a bad omen when the film opened with a trailer for a movie called Just Like Heaven.
Just Like Heaven is about a cute young successful nurse, played by Reese Witherspoon, who is leading an otherwise “unremarkable” life. (And by “unremarkable”, they mean that she doesn't have a boyfriend. For shame!) One day, Reece dies in a freak accident. (Boo hoo!). But don't cry for Little Miss because then she returns as a spunky, adorable GHOST who, not knowing she’s dead, haunts her old apartment, (now occupied by Mark Ruffalo). The unlikely pair run around trying to convince people that Ghost Reece actually exists and that Mark Ruffalo isn't crazy. Hijinks inevitably ensue. When Napoleon Dynamite shows up as an ineffectual paranormal expert, the hijinks just keep on ensuing! Later, exhausted from all the hijinking, Ghost Reece and Mark Ruffalo discover that…wait for it…they’re fallen in love! Finally, to throw some peanuts on that sundae, the marketing department rapes a Cure song by using it for both the title AND the theme music. It’s Ghost meets The Man with Two Brains but without any of the sexiness of the former or the comedy of the latter! Would that I were joking, friends. WOULD THAT I WERE MAKING THIS UP!! Clearly, the only thing that could redeem a film like this would be to have one of two surprise endings.
1. Ghost Reece is revealed to be the adorable, spunky incarnation of The Prince of Darkness, who, in true Beelzebub fashion, only convinces Mark Ruffalo to fall in love with her so that he can impregnate her and their hybrid offspring can usher in the end of days.
2. Mark Ruffalo is actually in an insane asylum and the entire move was just a hallucination brought on by enough sedatives to bring down an elephant.
Sadly, I have a feeling that neither of those things is going to happen.
As for the feature presentation, it truly amazes me what Wes Craven agrees to put his name on these days. Cillian Murphy I can forgive for participating because I'm sure that when he agreed to make this film, he had no idea that Batman Begins would became a box office success. And also because he’s so very pretty. I could watch a 3 1/2 hour Kenneth Branagh remake of Moulin Rouge if it meant getting to gaze into Cillian's big blue eyes the entire time. But I digress.
But Wes, dude! Were you even awake when you were directing this? Were you stricken temporarily BLIND at the start of filming but were afraid to tell anybody for fear of halting production? I realize that your legacy isn’t exactly filled with think-pieces, but at least movies like Nightmare on Elm Street were FUN. This wasn’t fun. Well, it was fun at TIMES, but only in the sense that scoffing at plot holes with your friends can be fun. However, making fun of plot holes becomes tiresome when you realize that NOTHING in the movie makes sense.
And the characters were so BORING. I couldn’t care one iota about Rachel McAdams’ character. She was dim and uninteresting. Cillian's Jackson Rippner (get it???!!), was engaging at first, whatwith the piercing blue eyes displaying a charming evil which suggests that you would almost enjoy being stabbed to death by his lovely Irish hand. But once I realised that he was given NOTHING to work with, I just wanted to movie to be over. Even the comedy of Cillian's inexplicable display of T-100-like invulnerability wasn't enough to hold my interest. Once again, this movie would have been made SO MUCH BETTER by the surprise introduction of supernatural elements. But alas, we weren't given such a reprieve. We were only given boring, far-fetched political assassination plots. The only person I DID feel sorry for was Brian Cox. Not Brian Cox’s character, mind you. Brian Cox the incredibly gifted actor, who was forced to spend much of the movie sitting in his living room watching “The Comedy Marathon” and acting into a phone.
So what, you ask? You saw a bad movie. There are loads of them out there. What’s the big deal? The big deal is this: While Dom, Andrew and I sat agape at the ridiculous monstrosity before us; the rest of the audience was eating out of Wes Craven’s blind, incontinent hands. They clapped whenever anything remotely actiony happened. They gasped at the extremely predictable “startling” moments. One girl two rows behind us was so invested in the story that she threw herself against the wall in response to a jump cue. The women directly behind us actually said “You go, girl!” I don’t think I have to tell you that I take moments like this as categorical sign of the impending apocalypse.
Maybe Reece Witherspoon is trying to tell us something…
Of forget to anode
WEEKEND RECAP
FRIDAY
At Dom’s behest (and with Gadzook money), Faye and I agreed to have “Plight of the Living Dead” read by a professional…um…guy who reads scripts and offers constructive criticism. The process is called “Script Coverage”, but I don’t know what you call one who covers scripts. A Coverager? Anyway, we did it, and we met with the guy on Friday to discuss his notes. Faye and I were very nervous about the whole process. What if the guy just doesn’t understand our humor? What if he doesn’t even LIKE zombie movies? Well, we got his notes ahead of time, and they were mostly positive. But there were a few things in there that made us a little defensive. It’s VERY hard to take yourself out of a script you’ve been writing for 4 years. The guy (Matt was his name) had some good suggestions, and overall, he really liked the script. He said so several times. In fact, he said that if we were to start shooting tomorrow, we would have a good, cult-status movie on our hands. But if we revised a few things, we would have a GREAT movie that may even become a sleeper hit. So that sounds pretty good, right? Well, yes. It is. But like I said, it’s really EXTREMELY hard to step back from your work. So Faye and I, at first, felt like we had just gone to a parent-teacher conference wherein the teacher tells you your child, your pride and joy, is very intelligent but is they are performing below their potential and will need some tutoring or maybe to be placed in special ed. It was extremely traumatic for us. Luckily, we HAD read his notes before meeting with him so we had some time to lick our wounds and sleep on it. By the time we met with him, we had realized that he had quite a few good ideas. So now, Faye and I will do one more draft of the script before the end of August. We spent the rest of Friday evening getting drunk with Matt. He’s a cool guy which, at least for me, made the taking of the critical medicine that much easier. Anybody who loves “Human Nature” and “Swamp Thing” is definitely coming from a similar place. Maybe that was his plan all along…
Unfortunately, I was going on an almost empty stomach. Since we started out at the Coastal Kitchen (what’s up, pricey), I decided to wait on getting a snack, thinking we would only have one drink there. We had two. And then we moved to the Canterbury where I got another drink and a half in me before any food arrived. I was very dipleased with my order of garlic bread. Sorry, dears. Stale bread that’s been lightly buttered and sprinkled with garlic salt before being burned in a toaster oven is NOT Garlic Bread. Matt was kind enough to share his fries with us, however. Regardless, the lining of the stomach with carbs was too little too late, my friend. Too little, too late.
SATURDAY
Horrible raging hangover, check. Wasting the entire morning nursing said hangover, check. While I drank glass after glass of water and waited for the pain medication to kick in, I watched Confessions of a Dangerous Mind again. Great flick. I like that Clooney fellow. I think he has quite a bit of potential. Honestly, his direction harkens back to the 60’s and 70’s when making a movie was more than just filming scenes. It was about telling a story through pictures. Some of the composition is just beautiful. My only criticism of the film (besides Drew Barrymore) is that Clooney didn’t really pick a visual motif and stick with it. He kind of looks, at times, to be experimenting. Overall, however, I’m impressed. Sam Rockwell is an incredible actor. And also one of those not terribly attractive men who can convince you to have a crush on him based on charisma alone. In light of that, who am I to argue with a film that requires Sam Rockwell to be naked for over a third of the scenes? It helps with the pain, I’ll tell you what.
So around 3:00, I was still hung-over, but nursing time was over. I had to get ready to go to a short screening at the Rendezvous (for another Matt. Remember, kids. If you can’t remember the name of a male filmmaker, chances are they are called Matt, Mark or Eric). It being a beautiful day, Dom and I had planned to walk, but because of my useless ass, we didn’t get out of the house until 10 to 4, and we were supposed to be there at 4:15. Thank Christ for the Focus. We sped downtown and found a parking spot fairly easily. Matt was kind enough to show a trailer for “Snow Day” before his short, “Merlot” screened. We got out of there at 5 and had to speed back up the hill to meet the 48-Hour Film Challenge team at Linda’s. Why were we meeting? Because we WON, motherfuckers! Pretty cool. We had dinner and a few rounds there before Faye and I decided we needed to exodus. We aren’t fans of Linda’s and only showed up there because that was where the two fellows who suggested the party wanted to go. Sherrard came with us and Ryan and The Kidd went downtown “for a bit”. Needless to say, we didn’t see them again for the rest of the night. We ended up the Satellite, and I once again attempted to find some satisfying garlic bread. To no avail. This time it was some kind of basil infused tapanade over crustinis. NOT GARLIC BREAD. Kayobi and (yet another) Matt came by and later, Dom, Borgia and Cherry left Linda’s to join us.
When you start your evening at 6:00, coming him at 12:45 doesn’t seem so early. Still, I convinced myself I needed to watch a movie, so I put in Dark City. I fell asleep before Murdoch even meets Dr. Schreber.
SUNDAY
T’was a typical Sunday in many ways. I did some chores and Dom and I went to the grocery store. This time, however, we went to Trader Joe’s. We spent ABOUT the same as we would at Safeway, and we got some really healthy stuff. So we both feel pretty good about it. For lunch, we had Trader Joe’s tomato and roasted red pepper soup and grilled cheese on organic wheat bread and it was a delicious meal. If we don’t get lazy, I think we’ll really be able to pull off this whole “healthy eating” thing.
Kayobi and I have been trying to convince each other to go to one another’s yoga class for a while now. Yesterday, she finally convinced ME to go to HERS. I usually do Bikram Yoga, which is the “hot yoga”. The whole thing takes place in a room that’s heated to 106 degrees. This is meant, mainly, to make you more limber. So my first concern with Kayobi’s yoga was that I wouldn’t be able to do any of the positions without the presence of the heat. Right away, I could tell that these were two completely different schools of yoga. Besides the lack of heat, the studio also has hardwood floors. The class starts off with some meditation (instead of just the breathing at Bikram), and the teacher reads a poem. Then the teacher turns on some New Age music (no music at Bikram) and we get into the positions, which, I noticed all too well, were very hard on my knees. And not just the standing positions. The floor positions are all very knee-oriented as well. At the end of the class, we did some more meditation and the teacher read another poem. I was disappointed that I didn’t feel nearly as worked as I do at Bikram. I was sweating, but I missed that overall weary feeling that Bikram gives me. The feeling that lets me know that I just worked out every single muscle in my body. Maybe if my knees weren’t so weak, I would have gotten more out of it. But I also really like the down-to-business aspect of Bikram. The class lasts an hour and a half and we work out for the WHOLE hour and a half. At Kayobi’s place, we spent at least half an hour chanting or meditating. I can see how that would be good for some people, but I go to yoga to work out, not to meditate. I have never been able to meditate. And it’s not that Bikram isn’t spiritual. It is. But the whole “clear your mind, let your negativity go” stuff happens WHILE you’re in the positions. It’s the ultimate yoga for multitaskers. And, as my resume clearly shows, that is ME, baby!
Today I am sore in places that I shouldn’t be, like my knees and the portion of my spine that juts out at the base of my neck. In fact, I’m less sore and more bruised. I blame the hardwood floors. I don’t think I’ll be going back to that one. That’s not too say that I will never try anything else but Bikram. But I am fairly convinced that Kayobi’s place is not for me. Once again, I feel very fortunate about the circumstances under which I first tried yoga. If I hadn’t gone to the Sweat Box on that day, with that amount of energy, I might have written off all of yoga as something that “isn’t for me”. (Of course, it stands to reason that I really shouldn’t write things off so readily.) Next week, Kayobi’s going to come with me to the Sweat Box. I have a feeling she’s going to HATE it. :)
When I got back, I made dinner and Dom and I watched Dr. Who (which was SO good! It’s all I can do to keep from spending $80 on the whole season at Amazon.co.uk!) After dinner, I did some work and then popped in “Midnight Cowboy”, which I’d never seen. It made me a little sad that so few people try to make movies like that anymore. Movies in which the cinematography is just as important to the story as the script. It also struck me that there were really only two pieces of music in the film. At first, I was put off by it, but by the end, I couldn’t have seen it any other way. Music is another thing that seems to be so secondary in films today. I was struck by that when watching The Devil’s Rejects too. The soundtrack to that film is PERFECT and was obviously very carefully selected. Probably the reason music has taken a backseat in films these days is because it’s so hard to secure the rights to music. Faye and I have a couple songs written into our script and we’ve been told over and over again that we shouldn’t make reference to a particular song because it frightens off investors. But we didn’t just write in songs we happened to hear on the radio at the time or anything. We try and write scenes to Tangents songs just because we’d have more of a chance getting the rights. We chose them because those are THE songs we want there. Still, sometimes restrictions work in your favor. The music in the original Donnie Darko is perfect and a lot of those songs were compromises for Richard Kelly. I still haven’t seen the Director’s Cut to decide if he was right all along. But what he ended up with the first time worked really well.
At this point, I’m rambling. Sorry about that. Boredom is a bitch.
her understand my carnage
I’ve been very busy with some exciting stuff. It’s kept me from my usual entries about random crap. I’ve been working on several spreadsheets (god, I love spreadsheets…maybe a little too much…) regarding film business. Meep and I have been coming up with our dream cast for Plight and I think we have a pretty good one nailed down. Of course, the operative word is “dream”. If these people aren’t busy, LOVE our script, don’t mind working for scale and staying in the Travelodge, they may say yes. Otherwise, we’ll probably still be casting unknowns for these parts. I feel like we have ok chances though. I mean, we’re not asking for anybody A-list. Most A-list actors aren’t very talented anyway. We’re asking for people whose work we genuinely admire. In terms of the less likely actors (i.e. Bruce Campbell), we’re casting them in roles that could be shot in a day. We’re looking at people who are notorious for doing small films and pet projects. I was looking at our list this morning and I must admit I got pretty elated. We’ve got lawyer who is going to call their agents and make us sound all professional-like. We may even bring a bona fide casting director on board. So…we’ll see what happens with that.
In other news, Meep, Jacob and I (and possibly Dom) are going to L.A. at the end of September! It will just be for the weekend for Shriekfest, a horror film festival in which “SDBSD” is playing. Allegedly, the festival director is inviting a lot of press and industry types. Jacob will be contacting some of the people he and Dom met at Comic Con to try and set up meetings or, at least, invite them to see the film. As usual, Meep and I just have to stand there and look pretty and schmooze schmooze schmooze. Since I need to reserve my vacation time (I’ve only got 4 days left till Feb. 1st and at least one more trip before then), we’ll have to fly out Friday after work and back in Sunday night. There’s an awards ceremony/party Sunday night so we’ll probably have to miss the fun part and I’ll STILL be exhausted Monday morning. But I have to suck it up because this is it, man. This is where the leg work comes in. I’d rather be sleep deprived now than get my beauty sleep and have to miss out on some important trip or party that could lead to the next step up the ladder. Of course, while we’re down there, we’ll definitely hang with Mark and hopefully the Brunswicks. (And even more hopefully, the Brunswicks will let me crash). I’m sure it will be another fun-filled, whirlwind weekend.
Speaking of which, there’s a bunch of other fun, non-filmmaking stuff coming up too! There’s my FUNdue party on the 20th, and a garden party at Brugos’ house on the 27th. He’s very kindly agreed to let me bring the DDR!
September kicks off with Bumbershoot weekend. I’ll definitely go one day. Possibly two. As usual, I’m not too into any of the musical acts. I love Elvis Costello, but after the horrible Pixies show last year, I vowed never to see another act on the Mainstage, no matter how good they are. Because they WON’T be good. They will be tiny dots who will sound terrible and be forced rush through their set. I’ll be going for the comedy which includes Patton Oswalt and Eugene Mirman.
September also means birthdays galore including, mine, Dom’s, Sherwood’s and Ryan’s. So many Virgos! I don’t have time/money to plan a Dom and Jessica Extravaganza this year, so hopefully Ryan has something cooking and we can just latch onto his. Last year he rented out the Catwalk and had a Back to the Future Prom themed affair. I have never seen Ryan so hammered. As a result of about 20 too many Washington Apple shots, Ryan kept insisting on picking girls up and swinging them around. Tragically, Meep and I did not have immunity.
Also in September, Meep and I plan to commemorate the Summer Death Rattle by going east to Wenatchee to swim in rock and algae free water. Yipcha!
On a completely unrelated note, I have decided to try and improve my eating habits. I have been extremely lethargic for a long time. I am not anemic. I eat plenty of soy protein and dairy. I actually get a fair amount of sleep as well. So I have been doing some research and learned that high fructose corn syrup may be contributing to my lack of energy. It allegedly zaps your energy and turns to fat immediately upon entering the body. And of course, it’s in EVERYFUCKINTHING from bread to ketchup to soda to instant oatmeal. All things I eat constantly. There are all natural versions of all these foods but they are only available at, like Trader Joe’s. This means that my grocery bill will probably go up, at least until I get a grasp on how to avoid this stuff. I’m going to try this for two months and see how I feel. If, after that, I don’t feel any different, I will try something else. But there are a few things I’m going to try really hard not to go back to consuming, including soda and white bread. I’m also not putting sugar in my tea anymore and I’m only going to drink beer every once in a while. (I’ll still drink wine and the occasional mixed drink. Not drinking at all is so not an option for me right now. I still need to consume SOMETHING I enjoy). I’m only in my late twenties. I exercise. I’m a vegetarian. There is no reason for me to feel so crappy all the time. I’ll let you know how this goes.
Christmas Crackers! Sorry about the rambling. I’ll make up for it later with some sort of amusing meme-y link or another.
Blanca
WEEKEND RECAP
FRIDAY
It was our friend Pam’s 30th birthday, and a lovely evening for an outdoor party. The Troika stopped first at Safeway to get some booze and some gifty-type stuff for the birthday girl. Faye found the weirdest birthday card ever. I will attempt to describe it. On the front is a cartoon dog in the middle of the woods, wildly sniffing the trunk of a tree. Inside the card it says “Whoa! Major dude here!” and then “Happy Birthday”. It was so weird that Faye HAD to get it. The meaning of the card became a topic of conversation throughout the evening. Eventually, we agreed that it must have something to do with the urine. The dog smelled the urine of a “major dude” who had peed on the tree. This was, we suppose, meant to imply that the recipient of the card was a major dude as well. But the whole phrasing was so bizarre. And what the hell does it have to do with birthdays? Who knows. Anywhosel, we wandered up to 27th Ave, which I’m not sure can be considered Capital Hill anymore. It’s definitely one of those strange “suburban” feeling parts of the city where everything is quiet and there’s plenty of parking. The party took place in their fenced in backyard. There was a BBQ going and some hilarious decorations which were very tailored to the birthday girl. There were also a stack of pictures of Pam’s head, on which you were meant to draw the body. That was fun. Later, the piece de résistance…wrestling in whipped topping! Pam had been saying for weeks that all she wanted for her birthday was to have her male friends wrestle in a kiddie pool filled with some sort of dessert item whilst wearing Mexican wrestler masks. And so she had it! Little did we know, Pam had planned to wrestle too. And she became the ultimate whipped topping champion! T’was a site to behold, let me tell you. Faye took some pictures which I will post links to when they are uploaded. But I have a feeling the photos won’t capture of magic of being there, mere inches away from being splattered with cool whip. The funniest part had to be when Pam won her third match. She stood up and said “I can’t see! Somebody please lick my eyes!” And TWO people obliged.
The Troika bailed around 10:00 because the party was headed to the I.D. for some karaoke and we weren’t in the mood. Dom went home, and Faye and I stopped in to the gay bar behind Chop Suey for a quick one. We definitely have to go back there soon. For one thing, they had THE best music. All the 80’s hits you know and love without any of the embarrassing stuff! The bartender was dressed in short-shorts, a reflective vest and a construction hat, and every once in a while, he’d bust a move on his way to serve a drink. Everywhere, people were dancing and just having a great time. No one was trying to impress anyone else. They were just there to party. Why can’t “straight” bars be like that? Why does everyone at Linda’s have to act so cool? And why can’t there be more Loverboy on the juke box?
While Faye and I drank our PBRs, we were approached by a very tall, very drunk man with long-ish curly gray hair and himler glasses. I had my hair up in the two small buns and he said that he had to come over because my hair kept coming toward him. He then launched into a monologue about how he never got hit on when he had short hair, but with his long hair, he does. Every once in a while, he would stop and look at my buns again and say “They’re coming toward me!”
Faye and I were supposed to meet the Nimble folks (I think…the drunky had set it at that point), so we took off ended up going to Bill’s, where they were going to meet us. We thought. But they didn’t. Faye and I drank alone, which was perfectly fine, and enjoyed the always wonderful music and food as served by Lily Taylor. Borgia joined us just in time to eat our leftovers and head home.
SATURDAY
Dom and I were supposed to meet a fellow local filmmaker whom I’d been emailing back and forth with for several months at the Canterbury for breakfast. We waited for half an hour and then ordered. 45 minutes after the scheduled meeting time, he called and said that he couldn’t get over there because of Seafair (goddamn you Seafair!) and we rescheduled for the next day. Dom and I got in the focus (with new windshield) and caught the ferry to Vashon to hang with the family. We picked his dad (Phil) up at the waterfront where he had been partaking in a ham radio contest (he’s WAY into ham), and we drove back to the house. Phil had to go to the ferry dock to pick up Dom’s half brother and family. While they were gone, Dom cleaned his car and I finished “Eleanor Rigby” by Douglas Coupland. (Damn you, Coupland! I can’t get through one of your books without blubbering at some point!). The sun this year must not be that strong (or close or something) because I’ve somehow managed to not only NOT get burned, but to actually procure a little color! Not that anyone besides me would notice. I still look like death warmed over. But I have an honest to god TAN LINE! Take that, Irish genes!
An hour and a half later, Phil and the family arrived with steaks, corn-on-the-cob and pumpkin pie. I make some bakes potatoes for my main course. My potato didn’t turn out so well, but the corn and pie were AMAZING. After dinner, Dom’s brother Eric, his daughter Sarah, me, Phil and the doggies went for a walk in the woods. The doggies were Phil’s beagle, Kirby and Eric’s poodle, Tommy. Tommy was apparently not used to so much exercise, so there were a few moments when he looked a little wiped, but it’s impossible to wear Kirby out. It was a wonderful walk. It’s not often that a city girl like me finds herself surrounded by trees as far as the eye can see. Very peaceful. When we got back to the house, we had a leisurely chat and showed “Snow Day” to the family. They said they liked it and bought a copy. (Of course, what kind of a family would say they DIDN’T like it?)
Dom and I caught the 10:20 ferry back to Seattle and I was so bushed (from doing what?!) that I actually fell asleep on the way home.
SUNDAY
Dom and I made a second attempt to meet our filmmaker friend at the Canterbury. This time it worked! We had a nice breakfast and chat about…filmmaking, and then parted ways. Later, I went to yoga and had THE hardest class I have ever had. I have never been so close to vomiting, and actually had to go to the bathroom in the middle of class to splash some cold water on my face. They say that it’s not uncommon to feel nauseous during Bikram yoga, but since I’d never been effected that way before (and have been doing it for over a year now), I thought I was immune. Not so. And how awful! I attribute it to a few things: not going as regularly as I had been the heat outside and PMS. It seemed like a lot of people were having hard classes, so I think the heat outside had a lot to do with it. I realized how lucky I was that the first time I went to yoga, I was having a good day. I was full of energy and feeling very strong. If this had not been the case, I doubt I would have kept going. Imagine if yesterday had been my first day! Ugh. Though that’s a lesson to be learned, isn’t it? I wonder how many things in life I’ve deemed “impossible” or “not for me” simply because the first time I tried them, the conditions were wrong or my heart wasn’t in it. How can I remember this lesson in the future?
Yoga wiped me out, and I had a nice, quiet evening at home in front of the television (including the new Dr. Who with Christopher Eccleston! It’s being broadcast by CBC! SO GOOD! Must remember to watch every week! Love Canada!)
Effed by the Wind 