Mayhem. Sheer mayhem.

Hi guys.

Some strange stuff has happened in the past week. For one, I am no longer in New Jersey. The reasoning is long and personal and if you should know why I'm not there anymore you do. Maybe if you buy me some wine I will tell you. As a matter of fact, why don't you buy me some wine? Let's make a date of it. Hows that? Great. Currently, I'm in Westchester staying with a friend until I can move into a dorm in manhattan sometime this weekend.

It's going to take a while to find the adaptor for my camera so this is going to be a fun, cool entry with no pictures, lots of stories and one video. That last part will be towards the end.

Despite my Ipod being stolen (tears) and my recent uprooting, I am the happiest I've been in months. Two days ago I took a class in something called 'The Alexander Technique' and through a strange mixture of hand holding and posture alignment I managed to tap into a huge waterfall of endorphins which coursed through my entire body and caused me to break into a 35-minute fit of giggles. Since then, I've felt like quite a new person. My anxiety is slowly being replaced with a calm, warm confidence. I mean, sort of. Let's just say it's a vast improvement from the old, beat-myself-up mentality.

I want to talk about a moment today. A girl in my class who has been struggling with finding herself was asked to do a grotesque imitation of the way her body naturally carries itself. She slunk into a rather shy, pathetic posture. The teacher, who could be anywhere between 50 and 80 (your guess is as good as mine) and extremely russian, examined her. She had the girl retain her regular stance and asked the rest of us to crowd around her, watching her. The girl began looking around and then started teasing us and even flirting with some people. The teacher removed her black and white checkered glasses and said, "You see, you vant to be seen, darlink." If I could, I would store this moment in a locket and look back on it when I'm feeling blue.

It's All Happening!

Alright.

So, yes, I know I have been essentially MIA through the internet for a week. But I have been busy getting my butt kicked by this wonderful studio that I am a part of. For more information on that studio, you can go here:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Michael_Howard_Studios

Okay. So, after that rather vague introduction I can delve into what I actually DO do. I'm a half hour away from midtown manhattan, living in Guttenberg, NJ. Guttenberg makes me feel a bit like I'm not on the east coast at all and instead commute every morning from a port town in central america. The population is 98% hispanic, making my measly waspish butt not nearly jiggly enough to compete with the local feminine faire.




I go to class each day of the week and literally am working to transform myself inside and out. This studio is not your standard acting conservatory, it's a place to hone yourself as a person and a performer. By learning who I am completely I can have both the confidence and the ability to play multiple roles without every feeling like I'll leave myself. Most specifically, in these early weeks I am really learning how to appreciate my very vulnerable, feminine attributes and add to them a little more masculinity so that I can actually stand up for myself without bursting into tears. If any of you get the chance to work with Faye Simpson, do not hesitate. Just run there.

As far as my weekends have gone, I hang out during the day in New York City going from place to place. This past weekend I celebrated with my old pal Josh and my college friends who have just moved to the city. We saw a pretty excellent show on sunday called 'The Pied Pipers of The Lower East Side' by a theatre group called The Amoralists (http://www.theamoralists.com/). The show itself was exceptionally written and very well acted despite being a overkill in its volume levels. I know what they mean when they say "play for the space you are performing in" now.

And sometimes it's just fun to drink in the middle of Manhattan on a friday night.






Finally...Josh and I were meandering down 24th street when we witnessed the strangest sky. It was especially creepy, because people began taking out their cameras to take pictures of the clouds. A little reminiscent of the beginning of a horror/sci-fi flick. Fortunately giant sea monster zombie aliens didn't fall from the clouds and begin eating New York City, and I was left with a neato picture.

Big Stuff Is Happening Really Soon

So today I'm leaving for Manhattan for the rest of the summer. As I packed, my cat, Nicholai, demanded to be taken as a stowaway:



He's very persuasive, but I can't even begin to think how he'll fair with the heat of the luggage cabin. He'll be a cat-kabob by the time we land.

In celebration, my best friend Lauren (http://welcomehomesophie.blogspot.com/) took me to the Propylaeum for a last brunch. If you haven't been there, and are even CLOSE to the vicinity of Indianapolis, I beg of you: please go here. You will forever be enchanted by the intricate tea cups, elegant bathrooms and grand staircases.

Here are some pictures from the event:






And now I must go, because my plane is taking off without me and I must go catch it.
See you all in New York!

Oh yes, lots has happened lately. I've...

uh...

worked. And taken up running and eating loads and loads of flax seed and italian food. That's essentially it, really. I've also found several serious oddities my grandmother collected. Among the piles of ceramic rabbits and homemade witch dolls, I unearthed something truly bizzare. They are frogs:



...with human genitalia



I believe they are cuban from the 1940s. I have no idea what to make of them, except that I keep showing them to any guest that happens upon my house. For the most part, though, I have to keep them hush-hush. God knows I'll degenerate the youth of rich upper-east Indianapolis with my perverse sexfrogs and be run out of town with flaming pitchforks.

Oh well, I'm leaving soon anyway. That's right! Six days until my big NYC adventure. I'm thrilled. Aaah...the culture, the public transportation, the food...

Speaking of food, and as I've said earlier in this post, I have frequented several italian restaurants since being home for the summer. My favorites thus far have been Iaria's and Buca Di Beppo's. I think as far as food goes, Iaria's won. I cannot fathom how good their Chicken Drogato or Chicken Piccata was. I wish I could go bovine and have four stomachs just to consume their food. However, Buca's atmosphere, ceasar salad, and free cake helps to put it on a pedestal. That's right. Free cake. Justin took me about a week ago, and our waiter asked if we were celebrating anything. "Life," we answered. We asked if there was a "Celebrate Life" cake, and he said he could work something out.




I'm leaving you all with a few choice songs that really inspire a summer-y attitude in me. Enjoy them as I have.




Os Alquimistas Estao Chegando Os Alquimistas by Jorge Ben


Jessica by the Allman Brothers


Cet Air-La by France Gall


The World's Green Laughter by the B52s


He's a Bad Boy by Carole King

Summer:What?

So I've been not very diligent about keeping this blog regularly updated. But here we go-one big swoop!

Things have been slightly crazy around this part of the midwest lately. Yesterday, I was driving in a car with my mother and brother, and huge chunks of hail started falling from the sky. The car was driven under a gas station and we waited until it cleared up. As we drove back towards my neighborhood, we noticed that several houses had gaping holes in them, and there were trees knocked over and car windows shattered. It hit so much harder toward my parent's house! Our deck chairs had been knocked into their pool and all of the windows in the front of our house were shattered.Here's a little peak at the size of the hail:



All of those dots in the grass are hail balls as well.

Dumb summer storms.

Otherwise, I've been working begrudgingly at a cafe near my parents house and helping my mother put together a garage sale. It's sad to part with nostalgic things. I simply had to rescue the stuffed tiger my father gave me 1988, no one would love him the same way I did.

My grandfather offered to give us some stuff to sell at the garage sale, and yesterday I went to his house to collect the goods. I love going to their house, because my grandmother was a pack rat. It's like a museum in there! Each time I go, I find myself taking little oddities to remind me of her.

Remind me of her, because last year she died. I loved my grandmother dearly, and I miss her so very much. She grew up in Alabama during the great depression and lived in Indianapolis during WWII, where she danced with soldiers at USO parties. When you looked at her hands, and into her eyes you saw so much heartbreak, love, and warmth. I've been collecting things and made a mini shrine to her



That is a depression-era glass vase, a picture of her when she was in her twenties, and a 1950's wallet I found buried in a chest in her house.

And this is her turban, something I've been wearing more and more of:

Recyclable

My parents are going to put on a show-stopping garage sale in the next few weeks, but because there are bags of unwanted shirts laying around the house I got my grubby little hands on a couple.

I made the following tunic out of my brother's old dress shirt:






And, yes, that's all I've accomplished thus far on my summer break.

flodder

One thing I absolutely adore about spring are the flowers. Today, I moved from campus back to my hometown, but before I left campus I got the chance to take some pictures of the various forms of flora.

I would thoroughly enjoy living in small house in a garden, surrounded by big, beautiful blooms. My favorites are tulips, poppies and peonies. What are yours?








oh, and here I am...sitting by my window and pondering the streets thoughtfully (as I often do). I'm taking this moment to remark that I have been taking extra good care of my skin lately, and I think I'm starting to really see an improvement.

What I wore today

It was the first day where I could leave the house without the aid of a coat or at least a cardigan. 83 whole degrees!

Here is the celebration attire:



Although when I left the house, I noticed all the trees on my block had been cut down over night to put in new power lines.
It disheartened me until I rounded the street corner and saw a field of little purple flowers, and then it seemed like every tree was in full celebration mode. Flowers, glorious smells. And tonight, I'm going to a carnival! Very recently, as in the past ten minutes, I almost caught my boyfriend's kitchen on fire. Apparently putting a brownie in the microwave for a minute results in some disastrous things.

Sex and the Sushi

My darling boyfriend took me to a sushi steakhouse last sunday. We ate tempura and rice and drank sake. It was a lovely distraction from my constant monetary woes and tragic morning news reports.

Theatre

One of my greatest passions, situated even beyond napping and twentieth century pop culture, is theatre.

It as an art form serves as my life-source, it is what keeps my heart pumping and my body from melting into the ground. I am in the midst of the run of a show, which is the honors thesis project of my very good friend, Martin. Martin is pictured here in the middle with the glasses, choking two boys:



The play is called "Landscape of the Body" by John Guare. It's a very difficult play, and a very ambitious leap for someone like Martin. But I feel like sometimes we, as people, need to bite off a little more than we can chew to work our artistic muscles. The play focuses on a woman who is being convicted of her son's murder after their abrupt move to Greenwich Village in the late 1970s. My character is Margie, an annoying 14 year old girl who hangs out with her son (the play is episodic in structure, so there are flashbacks before the boys murder). Eventually, the rest of the children get into a large amount of trouble and my character, being herself, wants to stick her nose in the middle of their business without thinking of the repercussions.






I like playing children, especially ones that are still a little idealistic about the world. As Margie says, "Children are protected in this magic circle. Bad things happen to grown ups but children are magic." Obviously, this play observes that this statement is completely untrue, but still the blind trust children have in the world is awe-inspiring. I've always been a bit paranoid myself, but I remember feeling much safer in the knowledge that my parents are at least a ten minute drive away.

And that's what I love about theatre. Not only examining, but discovering on a first-person basis individual human condition. Being able to feel as though you are invincible for a while, even if its intended that you end up with blood on your hands (literally). Just fascinating

Pretty Foods

I have a newfound purpose for this blog.

My francophile ways are rather famous around my real-human-friend set. As a result, I have read countless books on the french way of life, including "Joie De Vivre". I realized just how much simple joy is missing from my life.

As a result, I am going to write about the simple joys I happen upon in daily existence.

So, here we are.

There's a Japanese saying that goes something like (and I'm paraphrasing), 'food must be a feast for the eyes as well as the palate". I truly do believe they're onto something. Eating beautiful cupcakes as oppose to a short muffin with a dab of strawberry frosting on top are not the same experiences.

My roommates think I'm slightly insane, but I go to great lengths to make my food look beautiful. For example:



Mini baguette topped with light cheese and a blackberry, covered in chocolate. Oh, and a hard boiled egg. I enjoyed eating this. I relished every bite.



Oh, cheese. How I adore thee. That deserves a post all to itself. The point is that with preparation, and the slow, ritualistic process of creating a meal, eating the meal, and cleaning up after the meal is so comforting to me. At a time of great stress in my life (going into my senior year of college, performing in the run of a friend's show, going into final exam period, living in the current economic climate), I develop a great need for ritual. It's such a primitive thing, and yet so necessary.

Beautiful food. Mmm.

Finally it's semi-warm outside! After days and days of 30-40 degree weather, this 65 degrees seems downright balmy.



I celebrated the moment I woke up today by adorning myself like Diane Keaton in 'Annie Hall'. Sometimes pretending to look like a character out of a movie is exactly what makes me feel like myself. An unenlightened point of view? Maybe, but I still enjoy it.

April Showers Bring May Flowers

It won't stop raining.



I'm hoping that it will inspire May to be beautiful every day, and allow picnics to commence-as they should in the spring time.

No Mondays!

I am generally not so garfield the cat-like on Mondays, but today was a major exception.

Not only was it cold and rainy, but getting out of bed seemed like I was peeling off a layer of skin.

The only thing that can really help the situation is Senor Adolfo La Blanco, my mechanical bull:

Oh David...

Anyone who knows me knows I am absolutely smitten with the talking heads.

And after these years, David Byrne is still just as awesome now as he was in the hey day.

Finds

Confession:

I have a strong love to buy things. But what I have an even stronger love for is buying things that are unique to your own individual experience.

Take this briefcase and these pair of shoes, for instance, which I bought at a flea market in Brooklyn:





There is something deliciously thrilling about the fact that I have claimed an item. Someone else had this, and did not love it as much as I do, and now it is mine and I will treasure it until it falls apart and goes unwearable. Or, maybe, someone DID love it, but it holds in their mind the memory of a love gone by and they can no longer bear the sight of it. The item has moved to a new chapter in its life, and I will relish in giving it a good one.

Sunny Bad Hair Days

Breakfast

I have a mild obsession with breakfast. I must have some sort of breakfast every morning, but it's not just for the health benefits or the metabolism friendly nature that such a meal possesses. Breakfast is a ritual for me. The preparing, the presentation, and the actual eating of the food is all very holy to me. It's for this reason that I photograph my breakfasts from time to time. This an example of what I mean:





O breakfast; meals of meals. How I adore thee.

Bryant Park

Sometimes eating cupcakes and watching fat korean babies ride parisian carousels in Bryant Park makes your soul feel better.





And sometimes it's Tom Jones singing in his hotel room via la blogetheque


Tom Jones - If He Should Ever Leave You - A Take Away Show from La Blogotheque on Vimeo.