la dolce vita

BIG SIGH
Reading of “Nothing But The Truth” was yesterday and it went really really well. I got lots and lots of good feedback and I now know how to fix the sucker. I also can breathe again, which is nice.
I really love Colony so much. I’ve been seeing some good readings and drinking some cheap g&ts. I’ve been talking to this wonderful female director who does shit at the women’s project and now I really just want her to be my friend. Who would have thought that all this would be in Missoula?
Also, I’ve been getting a lot of chicken chasing in. Chicken chasing is good for the soul.
Its amazing how caught up I get in my New York life and how the second I leave everything that seemed so pressing just doesn’t matter anymore. New York is a bad place to be a writer. But then, Missoula drives me nuts when I am here for too long.
So that’s my life right now, simple and lovely. I feel like I am in a really good place career wise for 22 which is nice and confidence inducing. My 6 surrogate fathers are all very proud of me which is wonderful.
Life is sweet.

Avoiding writing!

Back when I was thinking about living with Chelsea for the fall we went to look at a couple of rooms being sublet by some NYU drama acquaintances of ours. The place was beautiful and is where Chels will be but I chose to pass in favor of smelly boys and greenpoint. ANYWHOO, we are sitting around chatting and the girl who is subletting turns to me and asks about how the play is going.
For a moment I froze and had that “how do you know about this? Are you stalking me?” moment before I realized that I posted my directors notice on the Playwrights Horizons list serve which EVERY acting student reads (or so it seems). So of course she saw it and recognized my name. And of course she would ask about it and not feign ignorance because that would be weirder.
And so I was thinking about this at my NYU desk job when this professor who has been on a leave of absence shows up. Now I know a whole lot of shit about this particular professor because he has a blog and sometime last spring he was mugged taking out the trash from his Park Slope apartment. He blogged about the incident and somehow gawker picked up on it and mocked him mercilessly. This is how I found out about it. This professor responded and then gawker responded and it was one of those things that gawker gets obsessed with for about a week then forgets about.
Well, three or four months after this happens I’m at work and this professor starts talking to my boss about how he bought this beautiful house in Westchester that he is remodeling and so on. And while my boss and professor are discussing building contractors I’m sitting there thinking “I know the reasons why you are moving. And you have no idea that I know.”
Which is sort of bizarre. Especially since he knows nothing about me. (unless he reads this blog WHO KNOWS?)
Now I’m not one of those people who is automatically freaked out by things like that. I really like facebook. I really like knowing that my best friend from elementary school is working in India now and that another is headed to Mozambique. I think, if anything, facebook will make my ten year reunion more interesting, not less.
But it is still a very strange dynamic. There are people who I hardly speak to, who I have not seen in years but I read their live journals. And so I know about their break ups, their medical ailments, look at their photos.
I don’t actually know the implications of this or have any sort of opinion about it. Most of my in-person communication is gossip anyway.
Granted I wouldn’t spend so much time on the internet if I didn’t have an NYU desk job.
***
Tangentially related: it seems to say a lot about someone whether or not they HAVE a blog and then what they put on it. Is it gossip, or complaints, or your favorite poems, or pictures or poker round ups or links to other blogs. Not that I have any idea what my blog says about me. That I like to ramble? That I think people are interested in what I have to say aka self centered? That I spend 99% of my time avoiding writing?
Well, that last one is certainly true.

“Katherine gets an Abortion”

My mother is very angry. My mother thinks that in between “Waitress” and “Knocked Up” it has been a very bad summer for feminism. And she is not alone.
All across the web people have been decrying “Knocked Up” for not even mentioning abortion. The closest it comes is “Schashmortion.” And while I sort of agree with these statements I still enjoy the films. Ever since Bitch railed against “sex and the city” because the dynamic of over-worked-and-unwilling-preggers Miranda versus really-sweet-and-femme-and-wants-to-be-a-mother-but-can’t Charlotte I have sort of shrugged my shoulders when it comes to feminist responses to narrative. Yes “Sex and the City” played up the fact that Charlotte was the cliché perfect mother but was sterile and that Miranda was having an unplanned and out of wedlock baby. But it played it up because it was interesting and good drama. If Charlotte got what she wanted (baby, perfect husband) and Miranda got what she wanted (career, career) it would have been really fucking boring.
Same with “Knocked Up.” If Katharine Hegel had got an abortion the movie would have been over. Even if it was a movie called “Katherine gets an Abortion!” it would have either been melodrama, or.. over. Abortion is either a really easy decision (in which case, there is no movie) or it really really isn’t. And when it isn’t it is still not drama because inner turmoil is not interesting to watch. It can work in novels, in memoirs, in poetry but not in film or theatre.
That was my real problem with “Knocked Up.” We never hear Katherine’s reasons. She thrusts this decision upon Seth Rogan and watching him react for two hours is hilarious. But she remains a cipher and her motivation unknown.
The closest I have ever seen a narrative about abortion come to working was written by my dear friend Rachel. And then, the conflict was that the main character was pro choice but was choosing to have a baby. And it only lasted ten minutes. Her ten minute play is the ten minutes that were missing from “Knocked Up” for me.
I think Feminism has kind of fucked itself over when it took its hunt for sexism into drama. It is one thing to point out stereotypes in advertising but when it comes to theatre/film/tv all criticism seems to lack even the basic understanding of what is needed to tell a good story. When Joss Whedon was accused of being sexist and homophobic for killing off lesbian Tara Feminists did not understand that his motivation was not misogyny but a desire to keep things interesting (and break the audiences hearts). To paraphrase Rich Juzwiak some times a dead girl is just a dead girl; not a stand in for Womankind.
Which doesn’t actually explain the fact that Abortion has been absent from the movies since the 80s. Dirty Dancing and Fast Times At Ridgemont High both have abortions as plot devices. Why not now?
And that is a valid question. Abortion is enough a part of every day life that it should have popped up. Are studios really that afraid of the Christian right?
Was there an earlier version of the script where abortion was mentioned and then it was cut? That’s what interests me.
Okay, so say I was to write “Katherine gets an Abortion.” How would I make it dramatically interesting, full of conflict and humor? Katherine wants an abortion but her dad won’t let her. There are parental consent laws in her state. Well, I suppose we could make a road trip movie. ROAD TRIP. Katherine and her girl friends drive to California to get an abortion and on the way they (fill in the blank here). Actually this could make a kind of interesting movie. But it has already become a movie about something other than abortion. Friendship or love maybe with a commentary on the rising price of gas. Abortions just in the attention grabbing title.
UPDATE: I realize that there is a more recent movie that has an abortion in it than the pair of 80s comedys listed eariler. "High Fidelity." Its just a moment but it is there and a part of the plot.
Are there other movies that have abortions that I just didnt notice?

update.

I am in love with one of my scripts and in hate with another and they are both going to be seen sometime in the near future which is good for me ego wise and good for me career wise but not good for me stress wise. And really what needs to happen is sometime in the next week I need to lock myself in a room and just bang out a draft of nothing but the truth so then I can start editing it but I HATE it so much right now. HATE HATE HATE. And I must remind myself that there was a period when I wanted to throw BANG/whimper out the window (littlerally) but I didn't and here we are with a beautiful cast and a beautiful director and all sorts of amazing goodness. And even though I really should just not socalize I do have a job to work, and another job to work, and leases to be signed and people to see and to love. Why do I have friends? They get in the way of the writing. But I love them so what can you do?
How are you?

This is about right actually...

My New York age is 40

This New York age puts you into a middle category between young and old (but not "middle age" per se). Be proud. You've got a nice balance between going out hard-core and staying in. You care about culture but also like some quiet nights. Keep it up, but think about expanding your horizons in the other directions. Head to Studio B or Anthology Film Archives for the first time, or finally check out the Village Vanguard or Elaine's for a dose of old-school NYC.

Does your age reflect how you're living? Let us know.

What's your New York age? Take the Time Out New York quiz and find out!

I heart new york

So I was sitting in Tompkins square park the other day watching the heroin junkies. I’m always amused by them. But aside from being amusing they also define the change in the east village for me. On one hand, they are almost nostalgic, a throwback to another era before gentrification moved in. On the other hand, they are borderline scary and I wouldn’t have wanted to live in this area 10 years ago. So while gentrification’s rising rents are driving me to Brooklyn, it also made this area safe enough for me to want to live here in the first place. Make of that what you will.
Anyway, back to the junkies.
So I’m sitting there, watching this girl in bright blue eye shadow and a shirt that barely covers her breasts let alone anything else (and god knows, you have to be high to leave the house looking like that) when these four black boys, probably about 10 or so, run by chasing this other boy. And at first I can’t figure out what is going on until they throw something at the boy and with a splash I realize they are all carrying water balloons. AWESOME. And so for a while I watch the boys chase each other around using the junkies as a jungle gym until one of them throws a balloon and it misses and it lands right in the middle of the junkie’s pizza. Uh oh.
And suddenly the Junkies are up and squaring off against these five boys. The boys are on one hand apologetic, on the other hand, its really hard not to laugh at the anger of the junkies. They apologize. To which the junkies respond:
“Fuck you you little shit, my pizza is all soggy, I’m going to kick you’re ass.”
And then this black haired woman, maybe 30 years old, maybe 60 breaks away from the junkies and starts to run after the boys. Only she’s wearing really poorly fitting flip flops so she sort of slides towards them.
The boys scatter and she chases them barely 20 feet before she is winded and has to sit down. Heroin will do that to you. She then goes back to the wet pizza box and proceeds to eat the soggy pizza. Because, shooting up and chasing children is hard work.

My new favorite procrastination technique

Passive Agressive Notes
...
its like roommates. only online!

Thoughts..

My mom and I may collaborate on a script for a graphic novel about eating disorders.
This could be totally awesome.

Irony?

No one I know actually knows the proper definition of "ironic."
Someone, please tell me if this fits.

Anyone else...

...Think that Rihanna looks like a bratz doll?

uhhhh...

http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,277718,00.html

myTunes

I like to put my Itunes on random. I am at this point where I just have so much shit on there that I forget I have most of it and random is a good way to rediscover old things. Also, I am indecisive.
But the thing is, my Itunes has opinions. Moods as it were. I have 11.5 days of music on the machine and it will go through phases where every other song will be the same band. Later I will never hear that band again.
Tonight it is obsessed with David Bowie. I don’t mind.

Compare and Contrast

I recently saw the movie “Paprika” which was awesome, even though it ultimately makes no sense. It is about dreaming after all.
It reminded me of another movie I am sort of obsessed with “Until the End of the World.” Which is also awesome and also makes no sense. It is also about dreaming (among other things.)
First, lets discuss why the two are great separately.

Paprika:
*Anime.
*Trippy Soundtrack which I like but would never admit to liking.
*Anything that has the image of a white crocodile being pushed in a wheelchair by a pink elephant is okay by me.
*Directed by Satoshi Kon


Until The End Of The World:
*International. (no really, its got a multinational cast speaking English directed by a German.)
*Directed by Wim Wenders
*originally made in 1991 it takes place in 1999. This is a 1999 in which the USSR still exists. And everyone still has giant hair. It also has “google” but “google” takes about 5 hours.
Now lets look at them side by side.
Both have strong and saucy female protagonists.
Dr. Chiba

Clare


Changing Hair Color is a plot point.
In paprika Dr. Chiba assumes the identity of Paprika, a red headed teenager.
UTEOTW includes the line “he is innocent and I am really a blond.” (that is great writing there.)
Both are about dreams. Specifically watching your dreams and having others watch them as well.

In Paprika, Dr. Chiba has helped to create a machine that allows therapists to enter their patients dreams. The machine is then stolen and all hell breaks loose.

In UTEOTW Clares mother has invented a machine that allows you to record and watch your dreams. Clare then becomes addicted to watching her dreams and proceeds to waste away until Sam Neil locks her in a cage and lets the batteries run out.
The world almost ends.
In Paprika, something happens in which the dream world escapes into the real world. Or something. I didnt follow. But it looked cool.
In UTEOTW an indian nuclear satalite is going to crash to earth and destroy where ever it crashes. It ultimatly crashes in the outback and all power goes out.
Frogs

Paprika has a march of frogs.

Claire is a frog.

Stuff

*I have now worked at Saks for one month. It continues to amuse. The are remodeling 85% of our floor and have taken away the restaurant, the wedding dresses and our employee bathroom. I miss the wedding dresses but mostly our bathroom because now I have to go down to the 5th floor and walk past lots and lots of very pretty dressed that I could conceivably desire (the wedding dresses, while pretty, I do not desire). In fact there was this Alexander McQueen dress that was so pretty and blue. AND it was on 40% discount. And I was like, hey! Sale! Plus my 20% employee discount! I can do this!
Well lets do some mathematics boys and girls.
The dress was originally $800.
Multiply by .40
That equals 320
Subtract 320 from 800. That leaves you with 480.
Multiply by .20
That equals 96
Subtract 96 from 480.
That leaves me with 384.
Which is three hundred and eighty four dollars I do not have.
Ah well, such is life.
*I am presently obsessed with the blow song Parenthesis. Go to their myspace and listen. Its wonderful
*One of my very favorite people (Jennifer) has left new york. Possibly for good. I would be sad but she is moving to Portland OR and that’s where all the cool kids are.
*I am now 22. I feel like it has a nice ring to it. Two Two. Yes, very nice. And my party is swell with most of the lovely people I like there. There were some people missing but they had good excuses so I shall forgive them.
*If you did not wish me happy birthday however, I am presently very mad at you. This is mostly directed at my brother, who really doesn’t know better. He also doesn’t read this. So I’m going to have to be direct and say “hey alex, what did you get me for my birthday?” And he’ll go “uhhhhh.” And it will be like most of our interactions. (alex, if you DO read this, you know I love you. Now buy me Pans Labyrinth.)