Tuesday, May 31, 2005
Check it out by clicking here.
Sunday, May 29, 2005
So tired, long day spent gyrating on Matt's lap in rehearsal. Boner cup.
To the boy at Odessa who kept checking us out:
Look, the thing is, I just don't think you can handle it. I know you think you want it but I'm worried, because if I give it to you, things may get out of hand. I wish I was kidding. I speak from experience. If I give it you, and I'm not saying I'm going to but if I do, you won't want it to stop, not ever. And that may prove to be a problem. That's all I'm saying. You've been warned.
Saturday, May 28, 2005
Anne texted me and called me Olivia (idol). I tried to go to sleep but I kept drunkenly waking myself up being dramatic. I really need to stop.
I've decided I need to do some sort of small walk on in a Star Trek movie, then this would all be better. Ask me about that when I'm semi-sober.
Friday, May 27, 2005
Thursday, May 26, 2005
PIRATES UNITE! AHOY!
Wednesday, May 25, 2005
I have to go temp in the morning. My Mom will be thrilled. So I can't post as much as I'd like, I have to go to bed instead of staying up late and f-ing off as per.
Today at Matthew's, I watched some of the footage that we've shot for the show, and I was pleased and terrified. I love it, but I feel like we need another month. For the past three weeks, I've felt like my head is about to explode, and it's only getting more intense. It's exhilarating, exhausting and rewarding all at once. Kind of like how a joint rolled with PCP might be. If you do that kind of thing. You holding?
Last night was a typical example of how things are wonderful/insane. We assembled Anne, Porter and Birch, had them all costumed and warmed up, and prepped to shoot the opening part of one of our short films for CALENDARIZE!. Unfortunately due to a scheduling snafu, our trusty camera man John didn't make it. So here we are, Porter, Birch and Anne onstage making bad-political comedy "troupe" magic in ill-fitted wigs and hiked-up pants, Sara chugging the suspiciously flat 40 oz that was bought to use as a prop and trying not to cry, and me just smiling my neutral smile (the one that means I could freak out and kill you or kiss you ever so sweetly). Sara & I just looked at one another and had a silent moment where we acknowledged that there was nothing we could do, not a thing. And then we looked at our awesome friends onstage and laughed hysterically. It was delightful to just let go. Sometimes you have to (CUE "Falling" BY BEN KWELLER).
I am sensitive. I cry easily. When I get frustrated, I freak out and bawl. Take, for example, the debacle that just took place in my apartment. On my way back from editing I stopped at my bodega to grab dinner. I had visions of yellow bell peppers and cherry tomatoes, but instead I settled on pink grapefruit yogurt and an old favorite, tortilla chips and salsa. I splurged on fancy hot green salsa that cost about as much as I would normally spend on a single beer, and marched home to devour it. But there was a wee problem. The salsa jar would not open. The lid was impossible to twist off. I tried my hardest to yank it off and only managed to hurt my hands and turn beet red in the process. Now, if you know me you know I do not like to ask for help carrying things or opening things. I am strong and tough and I don't play that whole dainty card, ever. I HATE when people assume I can't do things for myself. So I was goddamned if I was going to let a stupid little jar beat my ass. I tried running the jar's lid under hot water. Then in a huff I stomped to the computer, went on Google and realized that duh, it was COLD water (who needs science?! I have lipgloss!!!). That did no good. I was starting to whimper but was determined not to freak out. I put the jar into the freezer and busied myself with another kitchen task. I yanked it out a good fifteen minutes later. No dice. I then angrily pulled a mixing bowl out, dumped in the contents of two ice cube trays and water and plunged the jar of salsa into an ice bath. The water sloshed everywhere and I swore bitterly. This yielded similar shitty results, and I felt my eyes well up with tears. My hands hurt, there was water everywhere, and still the the jar was impenetrable. In desperation I yanked the rug guard out from under my bed and tried to use it for grip traction. While it certainly held snug to the jar's lid, I only managed to simulate the early stages of a heart attack for the Chinese family across the street who watched me through my kitchen window as they ate. That was it. I started to sob in a fury. All that money on a godammned jar of salsa?! That wouldn't even open?! I contemplated calling the customer service number on the side and raving at them, then I realized they had little to nothing to do with the canning of their product. I stood, feeling beaten, holding the bottle of salsa, whimpering. I had done a number on the label- it was tattered. But the only solution was to go back out in the rain to the bodega and demand a decent bottle. So that's what I did. I'd like to tell you I did so in my nightgown, barefoot. But no, I put on a bra and even pants. Sorry.
I trudged back into the bodega and the man who had rung me up earlier smiled. I held up the jar of salsa and said, "It won't open, and I tried everything." He looked at me, smiled that patronizing "womens is dumb" smile, and took the jar. This huge man, I should mention, is about 6' tall, and is built like a bodyguard or a pro-wrestler. He could snap me in half easily. Watching him struggle with the jar for the next 3 minutes was a hedonistic pleasure. The vein throbbing on his temple was accented by his ever-deepening shade of crimson. He stuck his tounge out one side of his mouth and heaved whole his co-worker taunted him by calling him (what else?) a girl in Spanish. He looked at me with a new sense of respect when I shrugged and said, "I told you it was stuck." We were just about to throw in the towel and go for a new jar of salsa, when there was a tiny "snick" sound. The jar had miraculously unsealed. I smiled at the Lucha Libre wrestler, took my worse-for-wear jar, and marched back to my apartment smiling. Best goddamned salsa ever.
Tuesday, May 24, 2005
Monday, May 23, 2005
Look- David again, two years later at a birthday party on the boat.
What is the boat I speak of, you ask? Why, it is a fun little place docked at the piers in NYC off the West Side Highway. As the name infers, it is indeed a boat in the truest sense of the word, and it is formally titled the Lightship Frying Pan. And people rent it out for parties and such. Someone told me once that it's a great place to take ecstacy, and if you see it, you'll know why.
It can be a bit treacherous, what with all the cat walks made of mesh, stairwells and slick metal. But it's also cool, dark and dank- and there's lots of secret rooms that used to be sailor's bunks. It screams out for makeout, and I'm always all hyper to have some sort of awesome encounter there. But this year, at this particular party that this photo is from (my friend Ed's with a bunch of other friends of his), it was not to be. I did get a makeout raincheck, which was nice but useless. The person I wanted to make out with, I didn't. Instead, I spent most of the night having a fun time talking and drinking gin and I think ginger ale from a Diet Cherry Vanilla Dr. Pepper bottle I smuggled on, because I am A) Broke and B) Classy. I also danced, which makes me so happy I cannot tell you. I love to dance (for example, I came home tonight and I was in such a good mood from all the music I listened to on the train, that I kept my headphones on and danced to BeWitched and absolutely terrified Nigel). It was a fun party. No makeout, but fun. Sums it all up perfectly.
Also, look at how kind and sweet my friend Cathy Hannon is here- you'll have to scroll down to the entry from her but it is worth it.
Viva my friends!
It was a long weekend.
Saturday, May 21, 2005
Duets performed by Sara and Brandy to absolutely no one's amusement:
1. Hopelessly Devoted to You
2. All Out of Love (in harmony)
3. This Time I Know It's For Real
I also sang:
1. Last Christmas
2. How Deep Is Your Love
Due to broken/scratched karaoke discs, I did not sing:
1. Cruel To Be Kind
2. Big Spender
3. Wouldn't It Be Nice
Thanks to all who came, and a special thanks to Winnie herself, who shared our Skittles, made us kick ass mai tais, and took our postcard and promised she'd come to the show.
Thursday, May 19, 2005
1. pick up labels from Sara @ work
2. pay for & pick up postcards
3. pick up candy & chips for party tonight
4. sticker postcards w/ labels to hand out at party
5. find someone to videotape scenes at party
6. write sketch
7. rewrite all other sketches
8. pick out a remotely feminine party outfit
10. paint face with sinful whore paint
11. go down, down to Chinatown
12. sing duet of "Total Eclipse of the Heart" with Emily Rems
I'd like to think some of my drunk phone calls to the now-departed Gail Berman, who was head of Fox Programming at the time, had something to do with this. Alternately that could have been why she left that job. I digress: This day could only get better if I could actually have the chance to stand close enough to my forever lover, Jason Bateman, to smell his hair.
WAIT FOR IT...WAIT FOR IT...
emailed to me today from ms. anne woodward:
Randi Rhodes, Janeane Garofalo, Al Franken at Operation Truth Benefit Concert
Operation Truth--a nonprofit, non-partisan veterans advocacy organization--will be holding a benefit concert on Saturday, May 21 in New York City. Randi, Janeane and Al will guest-host along with actor Tim Robbins.
UPDATE: Tim Robbins and Jason Bateman of "Arrested Development" will be guests on the Majority Report this Friday, May 20 at a live broadcast from The Tank.
My inner monologue upon reading this: Clearly this is proof that Jason is in love with me because he keeps appearing mysteriously at places I've performed at prior. He's seeking me, my dream from 3rd grade is about to come true, I just know it. Now, where did I put my good girl pills & tin foil hat? I'm long overdue for tea & crumpets with my dark lord, the Squirrel King!
OK, now just some oral and I can die a blissfully fulfilled (insane) woman.
Wednesday, May 18, 2005
I am exhausted. I mean, like at the end of the tunnel of exhaustion. Catsitting was awesome, but I never sleep as well in another bed as I do in mine. But the neighborhood I was in- the East Village- can't be beat for adventures, and the weather was orgasmic, so I made the most of it with nightly strolls and lots of entitled coffee drinking and smoking to try to blend in.
I tried to have quality time with much-missed gal pal Emily, but she was away in Brooklyn. I clumsily, and with lack of planing, did this by calling her while standing under the building which I thought was hers, commanding her to appear on demand. It was not so. So instead of summoning her from her apartment Sunday evening and dragging her across 14th street to Beauty Bar for a nail file and a cocktail as we always plan to but never seem to do, I met with another friend for dinner. We ate at delicous Viva Herbal Pizza on 2nd and it was awesome as always but I got sick from a garlic-sauce overdose. Their whole wheat crust is fan-fucking-tastic. It was great.
Monday night Anne and I misbehaved and stayed up all night acting out scenes from "Boogie Nights" (figuratively) and running lines for our show taping, which happened today. And immediately after that, I went and droped off the postcard file to the printer- www.paperslam.com on 10th Street & 1st Ave, HIGHLY RECOMMENDED- and ate dinner with Porter at Smoke. Then we went for a stroll and stopped off at the always lovely Rififi to (how shall I out this delicately) pee. While I was there I ran into a guy I hadn't seen in ages, who used to be in a sketch group I really admired. He hosts a punk rock karaoke at the Continental with the band that was unfairly fired from Arlene's so I'll have to go check that out. All in all it was a whirlwind and I don't even know how I'm awake. I must still be wired from last night's hi-jinx.
Now I am going to finish my newest book review, write a sketch, and finally, go to bed, dreaming of makeout, Dr. Pepper, watermelon sugar free Jello, and a firm back massage. How very specific and sad.
Monday, May 16, 2005
Show stuff is still my focus. To the exclusion of anything else. I am so in love with my show, we were meant to be.
My lovely freind April makes amazing, truly unqiue jewelry. She is someone you should buy stuff from because it's the kind of thing you will not find anywhere else. You can send her pictures of things and she can attempt to recreate it for you. Plus, she named a pair of earrings after me, becvause they are all I wear. I loved mine so much I comissioned a pair for Sara for Christmas. So check them out!
Friday, May 13, 2005
Pee-wee was last seen at the San Loco on Avenue A at close to 10 pm on Wednesday, MAy 11th 2005. Any information on his whereabouts will be rewarded.
Sara & Brandy would like to issue the following statement: Pee-wee, we wish you would come home. We miss and love you and pray for your safe return!
REWARD IF FOUND!
I am not kidding.
Wednesday, May 11, 2005
Sara & I got ourselves a director, kids! See picture of looney bird.
I am very excited about our sketch show, although I am also a bundle of nerves right now. If you get any desperate, screechy, scary emails/phone calls from me demanding an outrageous favor, please try to remember how cute I am when I pat your arm and ask you to tell me more about your family, whose names I then will forever remember and whom I will ask you about until the end of time as if I know them. Or, reflect on how I torment anyone who's mean to you and they become my enemy automatically. Or even evoke how I like to dance, dance, dance! Just think on those good times when you get that 4 am phone call asking you if you have a 1930's working sewing machine and can I come get it RIGHT NOW, mmm-kay?
Monday, May 09, 2005
Sunday, May 08, 2005
I got a scary amount of sleep and I feel great. Now I can coast through the week with my customary 5 hours or less a night.
I in fact just woke up from another nap, and am ravenous. I want a bagel but instead will be forcing myself to consume an omlette. Good on ya.
This has to be the most boring post of all time. Jesus. I love this blog but let's not kid ourselves, it's for me 100%. I write it so that I can read it a week later and go, what an ass I am. No pithy, snotty commentary or life-affirming disocveries here. Just me, occasionally acknowledging that there is in fact a world outside of my anus. I said, occasionally.
Saturday, May 07, 2005
I was hoping a boy would call me, but as of today, . I give up. I give up on boys.
I'm going to go back to sleep now. NUDE!
Jennifer Sanders is going to be on the Kumars at No. 42. Hold on a sec.
OK, back. The show I saw last night was delightful. It was at Tonic, which I am ashamed to say I haven't been to in quite a while. The band Richard played with was called The Savage Juliet, and they made me think of Cowboy Junkies. There was a band following called NYC Smoke, and they were fantastic. It was such a great treat to get to see some strong live shows. I went out with Porter to see a band play about a month ago, and it cost more than it did to see this show with two excellent bands. Also, they only played 6 songs, all of which seemed kind of convulted. It was a let down, so this was good to be reminded how much I love live music shows.
After helping my friend Guilia with some Mortified NYC! stuff, I came back home and sat around all day, resting and doing all sorts of sketch show tasks. I also played a bunch of the free CDs I'd gotten from musicians who were handing them out either at gigs or to promote gigs. And all of them were really good! Again, made me happy. Nice to see people succeed at what they love to do.
I am no longer allowed to drink beer. Only straight spirits, no mixers. I've been good about cutting out all the white bread, rice and soda. Sugar has been hard but I have cut out 90% of my consumption of it. I haven't been too bad about craving it, although today I really, really wanted a sip of Dr. Pepper. Waah waah waah fatty wants a cracker.
I am going to take a nap and then go see a show that Ms. Heather Fink directed.
Friday, May 06, 2005
Thursday, May 05, 2005
I misread the subject line of a SPAM email about prescription drugs and thought it said, "generic vagina". I like that term.
AT LONG LAST, LYRICAL LOVE
I have a new love. I know, I know, it's too soon after Toby (my aforementioned imagniary boyfriend of 9 months) but this one, he's a keeper. He stands outside of work every afternoon, and when I got out to grab my mid-day coffee, he chants at me. Somtimes it's unitelligible, sometimes it's a stream of consciousness about the evil, blood-drinking Jews- who can tell what each day will bring from his artistic tool box? The man is an unfettered poet spewing his seminal words & spittle on all who would cross his path. But today, he won my heart. As you may well know, I'm desperately trying to lose some winter (beer) weight. It's working, and as a result I put on a pair of pants I haven't worn in a while today and was pleased with the look of things downtown. Just now, as I walked past my insane pal on my daily jaunt to the coffee shop, he snapped to attention, stuck his tounge out, howled, and then began to sing the Mystikal song, "Shake Ya Ass!". If that doesn't put the spring into a young lady's step, I don't know what will. I gave the coffee guy an extra tip, and on the way back, was going to propose marriage or at least a "thanks for noticing" hand job to "the Bard", but he was arguing with his green bucket, a constant companion of his. I guess he's taken. All the good ones are, am I right, ladies?!?!
JUST GIVE IT TO ME
Wednesday, May 04, 2005
Too busy to update the past few days, all 3 1/2 of you kind, bored people who read this, my blog, a testament to the ongoing torrid love affair I have with my own slightly-too big ass. Apologies.
Sara and I got our show dates confirmed-CALENDARIZE! Saturdays in June 2005! There will be free beer and all sorts of scandal.
Last night when I was out and about at a show, I prayed to the precious christ child that a boy performing there (who looks like the personification of a "Herman" cartoon according to Dan Dratch) would make at least a half-hearted attempt to french me. Didn't happen. Thanks a lot, jesus! (NOTE: NON-CAPITILAZATION INTENDED TO CONVEY LACK OF RESPECT!!! THAT'LL TEACH YOU, JESUS!! SHIT...WAIT, THAT WAS IN CAPS.)
Monday, May 02, 2005
Is that Japanese exchange student/peace activist Birch Harms' hand to the left? Sources point to yes.
Porter: Angela and I were like, looking over at you at the bar, and you were just talking, and then we were like, "Well, let's call it a night, time to go to Brooklyn, and then, I looked back and was like, "Oh, god. Great." (does throwing hands up in dismay-type motion)
Brandy: I thought it was low key, we were just kissing a little bit.
Porter: All of a sudden, he had had his tounge in your mouth.
Brandy: [Name Redacted] came up and said, "Oh, God" really loud by us.
I owe Purnell one for that sweet ring.
Sunday, May 01, 2005
I had the best drunken hi-jinx fun at a party this weekend, I can't even tell you. It was one of those unintentional drunk nights, where you have a beer at 9 and suddenly, it's 5:30 am and you're in a cab wondering why your ex-boyfriend is calling your cell phone, and if you have any visible hickeys. I'm still wondering that one, actually. There was dancing, very drunken dancing. Did I slow dance with someone? Can't remember. I wish I could, I love slow dancing. Someone cute gave me his card and then I immediately lost it. The word make-out was thrown out at me as a proposition at least 3 times by various parties. I put my hands all over a bunch of fine-assed men- I can clearly recall having my hand pressed to someone's chest, and the feel of their sweater against the heel of my hand. There were a lot of boys in sweaters there, so who it was is a bit of a challenge. It's always so nice to stand close to boys, to feel that slight heat coming off them. Intoxicating. Sara and I were in fine, hateful form. Sara immediately announced that one woman there was a "great godamned beast" and the rest was downhill. I screamed "BEAT IT!" into people who I knew only in passing's faces. We showed up with a group of 7 women and Porter. Ben was there, and we had a nice time talking. It got weirdly familiar and confusing, because it was as if he and I were dating again, we were standing closely and talking, as always the 2 tallest people at the party. But then I asked who he was trying to pork there, and he told me that the guy I want to mount is seeing someone, so it was thankfully normal. Somehow numerous free drinks were procured. I felt like the song, "Don't You Want Me?" by Human League was playing in my head all night and kept singing it to myself while people were talking to me. Exhibit A:
Guy: I heard you and Sara are working on that new show?
Brandy (looking at her beer, mumbling softly): Don't You Want Me, Ohhhhhh- I'm sorry, what?
Things get blurry after the free shots. I do remember that Justin Purnell gave me a flashing disco ring, which Allocco promptly swiped. But that's OK because I stole her drink:
Sara is holding two bottles of beer, drinking one.
Brandy: Where did you get that?
Sara: The bartender gave it to me.
Brandy: (quietly, menacingly) Give that to me.
Sara: But I...OK.
Most of the night is a blur but I do hear tell from all of my friends that I ended up angrily making out pressed up against the mirrored bar in front of everyone there so, that's what we call "sophisticated". Why am I so angry? Why does anger make me so hot & bothered? So unhealthy. What most people consider bitterly fighting is like, some sort of foreplay to me. The angrier and more hateful someone makes me, the more I want to fight with them and then, ram my tounge down their throat. I have such a temper. Such a passion addict, high drama jackass. But you know what? It's never boring. I ended the night getting in the bed after listening to "Strange Magic" a few times on my awesome fancy headphones, stoned and smiling like I was Wiley Wiggins in one of the final scenes of Dazed and Confused.
LATER ON THE PHONE:
Sara: I turn around for one second at the bar and you've got your tounge down someone's throat.
Brandy: We weren't making out that much, right? It was kind of subtle, I thought. Like, we didn't have our hands all over each other, did we?
Sara: Like you were on a plane going down in flames.