Wednesday, October 31, 2007

Tuesday, October 30, 2007

A story about the past

So you know how when I get truly exhausted I start feeling bad about myself?

I was, effectively, exhausted all day yesterday. I mysteriously, really mysteriously because this practically never happens, was awake at 5:30 am. Maybe I was excited to assist the big shots I got transferred to assist in the MetLife building 3 days (now 2 days) a week... I don't know. I decided fine, I'd just go in to the Monolith early.. I'd left copies to make anyway.

I was so early that I killed time before 9:00am by answering Rhett's email that said to please send him a sample of my writing. He'd called requesting the same about a month ago. So it was easy enough to do - I sent the one full length play along with an email that said, you know, here it is but gee I feel funny abut staying in touch with him because (for the hundredth time) I once got locked out of my old apartment (when it was new to me) in a blizzard at three am and didn't know where to go and he refused to help me... causing me to display great anguish in a bar where I was eventually aided by the good drunks of Queens, New York. This happened about two years ago.

So I send the play attached to an email saying I don't know how to feel about staying in touch with him based on said self-defining/life-defining event; then I have absolutely nothing to do at the office the whole day through. It's basically humiliating -- big shots doing big shot things - and me attempting only to read high brow things on my visible screen -- it's not easy to even find high brow things on the internet -- so by the time I take my lunch hour, I am feeling old melancholy about Rhett - it wasn't a whole lot of thoughts, more a tired sad feeling, - nothing to be done, I loved him whether he was worthy or not- and patheticness about how much sitting with nothing before me I do under flourescent lights, and dissapointment in that play about boys which I'm fairly sure sucks -- remembered conversations probably do not a play make - I don't think I'll like it enough to send it to any schools as application material.

So then Rhett called at night when I was home and making a snack and I didn't pick up. He left a message that he'd read the whole play and wanted to talk about it and it was really good. "You can get better but it's really good." So at this point, I've actually tried to leave my house once (for more wine? - dvds?) already and found myself sitting on the floor woozy and concluded I couldn't make it - I'm so exhausted. (why didn't you get in bed and go to sleep? Oh shut your face - it was 8:45 or something -- I couldn't do that!) So I start watching a Sopranos with commentary and call Rhett. voicemail. I leave one. By the time I call again, I'm quite convinced that I'm calling to say, "Listen, I'm not kidding about that one moment being too defining for me. When we get in contact I feel bad all day. Thanks but no thanks." (I do know this sounds stupid now. This is the point of this post believe or not. I mean, I do know that if that's how I feel, I should simply not send him plays I wrote, for example. ) But this time he picks up and we talk for way over an hour, possibly two hours.

It was nice and he was very very flattering. It's more than flattery with Rhett though because after all, we even lived together - even if we mostly hated eachother then - nonetheless, it rarely gets closer - psyche wise - than that. After he and I broke up, so many people told me how he was obviously crazy, how I wasn't myself with him, how much smarter than him I was that it could never work. I agree about the smarter part practically 100%. I agree with all of that in fact and I did then. But, also so does he. He knows and he doesn't like it - THAT'S what's going on there. But he really wants to know me, I guess for his whole life. He also really REALLY REALLY wants me to come visit Vermont. Don't worry, readers - that will never happen. As I told him, all that would be would be however many days I was there of me vacillating between being able to talk to him - half-good conversations - and viscerally remembering that no one has ever hurt me more than he did. What fun!

So this post is all about reality, I think. Reality is just not simple, gentle lovely friends. The reality of this situation is that it's nice to talk to Rhett- I was exhausted - I couldn't even think about my play - he got that. He doesn't get everything but he gets a lot about me, in much much nicer terms than I sometimes understand myself too -- sometimes. I know manipulation when ihear it - and this isn't that. He does think highly of me - it's not an act. And he doesn't know what he's doing - he's trying so hard to go to med school to be a psychiatrist that "helps people get off medication." (I'll never understand his preoccupation with helping people not be on medication.) He still works with kids. (A four year old stopped breathing the other day and he didn't know CPR - but she was alright. It's always something so alarming with him though!) I mean he's this pathetic tragic character. And I go through most of my life thinking of him as just that. Tut, tut you know? But really somehow I'll be linked - you know, not by steel, but by a shoestring- to this particular pathetic tragic character. It's not what I wanted and it's HARDLY going to be at the forefront of my thoughts, actions, life -- but if you want to know the REALITY, that's what it is. That's what I'm saying. I'll shake my head and condescend about him forever, but we lived togehter, he built the shelves, cooked more than I did, talked to me for probably eight thousand hours clocked -- who knows? I won't go to visit him. But I'll probably always give him a call back even if I wince when I see he's called at first. We may endlessly have the same conversation about that blizzard. He seems well prepared for that.

So that's the story about the past. Sorry it wasn't terribly narrative. the narrative was basically "I was desperately tired. I talked to my ex. I felt more than one thing at once."

Thursday, October 25, 2007

music review

Arcade Fire is so good. I am 4 years behind on that observation and I still have only rocked their 2nd album.

H & G have "Kings of Leon" on their ipods and I got a CD of theirs too - also really really good.

I'm into rock now - yay. Hip hop isn't going anywhere new. I'm even over mash-up (finally.) (I'm not giving up hip hop or something though. Don't get me wrong.)

So I just need to hear Backyard Tire Fire some more too. :)

Okay, one new york fucking observation:

What happens is you wind up feeling so close to strangers for brief fleeting moments and this kind of affects the whole quality, I mean sense, of your life.

Like how I was annoyed about people calling me "sweetheart" I have to caveat that I meant that about men in bars, not about the bagel guy and the magazine store friend and the UPS man that call me "sweetie." All these fellows are such fantastic friends. :)

And also feeling very close to yourself in maybe less brief, less fleeting moments. I mean, I am always thinking to myself, except when I'm asleep or rocking out or filing (and even sometimes while filing.) On my smoke break, I saw a little sparrow that might have been hurt. I don't know what it is about a hurt little bird. Maybe he was just wet and molting. I so wanted to pick him up and bring him to an arboritum, but I don't want Avian Flu and I don't know an arboritum although I do have a plant.

XO
Alexis

Tuesday, October 23, 2007

When I post a lot

I feel really self-conscious.

I'm so sarcastic and complain-y. Dumb blog. I'll stop for a while now becasue I feel sheepish about these dramtic sounding sarcastic ish knowing-acting posts.

But movie review:

Michael Clayton: Pretty good!

Impromptu: oh the best the best. I hope I can get some kind of Georges Sand biography at the library before the weekend.

XO
Alexis

Monday, October 22, 2007

Nothing will ever make us notice til we're on fire

What does it feel like?

It feels like when you step outside into the air from the doors of Fort Lauderdale airport. Balmy.


And?

And the ice skating rink has opened in Rockefeller Center.

So?

So I walked by and saw the people spinning and skating in their t shirts and shorts and I heard this text in my ears read aloud by Jeremy Irons : "As the end approached, people's behavior remained largely unchanged. They continued their rituals, and found thht they cared about the rituals much more than the seasons the rituals may have been believed to commemorate."

Yeah, so, it's not a big deal but it is a little freaky when you see it. It's all wrong like a rose that smells like a pickle or something.

XO

Sunday, October 21, 2007

I was

going to write about solitude, but Meglet called a minute ago and noted the lovely day and we should go the park or a movie... and that makes a solitude post kind of moot. I'll still write about it.

Lots of people expect you to be living a whirlwind life in New York cus you're young and free. They don't quite understand a couple things 1) how you live alone in Astoria and 2) It's not as if we don't live the in the flakiest age of time immemorial and c'mon would New York of all places be exempt from that? no.

It's a little hard for me -- not a lot hard - and I'm really glad that this is one of my bigger problems right now 'cuz it's not a big deal by any means -- but it's a little hard for me because I'm not very flaky. I don't know if it's because I'm lame or something, but I generally go where I said I'd go or call and apologize. And it's only with some effort that I'm so busy that I'm having to cancel a lot. I'm not trying to complain although clearly that's what I'm doing. But I need to specify a little I think: my one friend is a super-pro free-lance writer. She can flake on me forever and I'll never be annoyed. But really she's not flaky -- she's on that shit - she cancels a day in advance always actually .. so nevermind. Just wanted to clarify that cancelling is great by me. Defnitely beats the texting, then dropping off that is so prevalent.

I also actually like being alone. Also, for those who don't know how to be alone (because that sounds rough - I probably really couldn't, say, in college) it helps when you expect it a little I think. I realized on friday that I had no set plans with anyone this weekend so eventhough I sent out a little "i'm painting panels all day - drop by" texts to everyone I have in my phone in Astoria yesterday morning, i would have been shocked if anyone came over.

In the evening, I wanted to go dancing and expected to meet up with some crazy Texans - a law school girlfriend of A's and friends. They texted that they were still watching Spamalot. They'd call when it got out. I called friend w/ benefits who had, I suppose, invited me to a brooklyn party in the morning when I still thought if anything I'd be out with the Texans. He said he'd call later and most certainly didn't. (I didn't expect him to -- he was on his way to a party in Fort Greene.) I showered and got dressed. L. called from florida and told me he's doing good there - art gallery - small apartment with a pool. And that he fantasizes about me and loves my laugh. Okay. No one currently in New York called. It was eleven. Fuck it i watched the Ali G show. took a benedryll. Slept beautiful.

Do I have a point? probably not. I was thinking a little of my date with M. too -- he recommended I do this thing called "The Artists Way" which involves free writing at least 3 pages the second you wake up for several weeks. he said I'd "know myself better than I could imagine."

It's very possible that I should be free writing three pages as soon as I wake up every morning. But could the time I spend alone not be helping with that as much as writing every morning?

My point is I know myself well I think. I know it's not a good idea for me to try to drill the panels to the wall by myself. I know that that will be more fun even with a hired handyman than it will be by myself.

I was going to list more things I know about myself and fascinate my readers even MORE if that's possible, but I have to get going to the park now to meet Megastar. What a dumb post this is!

Thursday, October 18, 2007

blah blah blah concrete jungle

yeah blah blah blah, I need to wear heels to cut the figure I mean to; the streets are made of concrete; I have to cover 13 of em or something to get from home to train, train to work; I'm AMAZING at it.

I always get a seat on the train now which is obviously the greatest thing that can possibly happen.

I've been thinking a lot about not staying in New York every year of the rest of my life. I want a little wintry cabin with three wood burning stoves. And classical music. I think I'll need a man there too. Dog optional. And if I have a baby, I'm gonna put it on a mattress with child-safe toys under a window.

Oh, fantasy fantasy. You can't blame me.. being that I'm back to reporting to a supply closet every day.

XO Alexis

Monday, October 15, 2007

la la back to work

Things I'm excited about.

* Play about boys. Not trying to be deep. Just having fun. It's fun.
* Friend w/ benefits living for now in real nice house in Morristown. Got out of dodge yesterday. It was NICE to do!
* Fall
* Fall
* Fall
* Holiday West Elm catalog. I'm gonna get a FEW mirror plated furniture items. Hot.
* Fall. Smokin weed in fall. NJ transit in fall.

love
Alexis

Thursday, October 11, 2007

Oh my God, when you write it out like that, it's all so completely obvious. Me and the musicians. That's gonna be the title of my memoirs. Thanks notherapycomputer.

We'll get back to Bazaar

Tomorrow morning maybe.

Now I am going to catalogue what brings me to waiting by the phone (dammit), having the moment when you realize, "no." :( :(
:(

* I meet T. and M. at a reading of T.'s play. M. is really good and very very beautiful. T. asks me out.
* T. and I go out a couple times. Sex not good tho. :( T. goes to England for the year. I ask him to help me get M. to be in my play reading.
* M. does the reading. Is freakin awesome. Then he runs off to the club where he alternately MCs with a hip hop group/ works the door. I go there after. leave. Contrive a text that says sorry i left early but let me know what he's up to.
* He does indeed send lots of texts about when he's playing.
* 1 time I even go there by myself a night he's working the door.
* After the GRE, I meet up with him, bounce around alphabet city. Get a kiss in the cab, accuse "what are you embarrassed of me? You won't kiss me in front of people?" He texts at 2:45 to see if I'm awake. I am not.
* But he calls the next day and we agree to go on what turns into an outstanding date. "Sorry about the insecure/accusatory after that kiss..." "M: "Insecure? No! I like it - be agressive be be agressive!" He's got to run after dinner though - work! So it's two kisses and a growl/bite to my neck and he's off.
* He wants to come over at around 1:45. Ummmm.. okay then... altright yeah, okay.
* But are you leaving soon?
* "band playing anutha fuckin set? Lookin late"
* yeah, I'm already asleep. :(
* So.... finally calls at, uh, 10:00 pm ish the next day... so I stop by his club okay, I am already in Manhattan so.... I hang out at the door. It's all nice. other people there drugging me, talking to me, talking to me, talking to me.... but at 1:00 ish I just wanna go home. some finger intertwining with M. outside. Peck on the lips as i'm going. "It could have worked yesterday. that would have been..." Me: "yeah, but i was asleep." M: "yeah." He'll call tomorrow afternoon...
* ...which is today. It's now 5:24pm. He'll be playing a show tonight... have to be there at, I dunno, 10:30... so what's going on here. If he calls, I'll take it and maybe have to hear something deflectory and have no response. Or the phone is seconds from ringing and he'll be here in a reasonable amount of time. no harm no foul. or he doesn't call today and I have to erase him from my phone.

Life's tough hunh. Continue waiting in my castle, and, ugh, working on myself. Sweet notherapycomputer, what's the status? Are we making any progress here?

XOXOX
Alexis

Monday, October 8, 2007

Page by page

Project to avoid the main project with:

(Most of you know the main project. I plan to go to the museum of television and radio tomorrow morning to start research -- hopefully they have what I need... I'm having a very hard time getting started.)

Page by page of Harper's bazaar October 2007:

Cover:
Here we have Mary Kate Olsen looking grand. A little duck-y in the mouth but that's just her face. Nothing too ridiculous here. They penciled in her eyebrows which looks good in the picture and probably looked garish in real. The only very silly thing is the banner in the upper right corner that says "SHOPPING SPECIAL." Harper's Bazaar has never once run an issue that was not a shopping special. They just did it to have a little gold something in the corner. Worked on me!

page 1/ 2:
A fold out ad for Banana Republic-- 3 of 4 ads in keeping with their current "your clothes can match these 'contemporary' paintings that we created for this photo shoot to match our clothes!" motif. STUPID dress with big dots on it on woman sitting in a gallery in pfront of a painting of black and white dots. DIY people! 2 more pictures like that. In one, the lady's green handbag matches some colored dots behind her on a canvas and the gallery "program" sticking out of the purse. Next one, boring-ass suit that looks like it came from Strawbeery on same gazelle-like woman who looks like she spent two and half hours on her hair and make-up even though her hair's short walking past a painting made of grey lines. Her gallery program has the same "art on it."

Page 3 & 4
Gucci. So far Gucci is winning. This woman looking at me looks like she's going to kill me, but right before she does she's going to burst into tears and drop her weapon because she's pretty much too pretty and weak for this killing gig. She's in front of some art, but god knows it's not dots, and it's the last thing on her mind. Gucci - dangerous, yeah baby.

Page 5 & 6
Estee Lauder "Resilience Lift Extreme." Elizabeth Hurley's head. What is doing the lifting on ms hurley? A whole lot of photoshop. Why wear make-up when you don't have skin? Elizabeth hurley is just blended pixels. no skin at all.

Page 7 & 8
It is getting good. This is what you pay 4 bucks for. Dior is having its models do this new pose I love where the model has food poisoning so she has sucked her stomach back behind her hips and has rolled her shoulders forward so that she can retch really soon!! But she doesn't look unhappy -- we have a mona lisa face on this person about to puke her guts out. the olive green dress on the left doesn't do anything for me. The bright pink satin gown is AMAZING although I really can't think of any event in the entire world it could be worn to. You wear it when you are about to be sick and it's time for the photo shoot!

Page 9 & 10
This is great. On the left, the girl is pulling up her shift dress with both hands because it doesn't fit - she can't fill it out. She's trying to make the killing face but she looks like as soon as you say "What's that face about" she'll just turn away because she's not that smart and can't answer to confrontation. On the right she's in a coat/dress, which is nice, wearing a shit ton of black makeup on her eyes (still) She's trying out a new face. It's a face that goes with no human impulse or emotion. She's a confusing girl and maybe she should be committed.

More soon!