i like books about vampires, aliens, and whores.

What I Read in the Summer of 2008:

-Candy Girl by Diablo Cody
-Twilight by Stephanie Meyer
-The Queen's Fool by Phillipa Gregory
-New Moon by Stephanie Meyer
-Eclipse by Stephanie Meyer
-In Other Words: Women Directors Speak by Helen Manfull
-The Virgin's Lover by Phillipa Gregory
-Breaking Dawn by Stephanie Meyer
-Eleven Minutes by Paulo Coehlo (this was a re-read)
-Theater Games for Rehearsal: A Director's Handbook by Viola Spolin
-Equus by Peter Schaffer (also a re-read)
-The Infernal Machine by Jean Cocteau
-The Host by Stephanie Meyer (have now read everything she's published)
-Secret Diary of a Call Girl by Anonymous

What I Watched on a Big Screen in the Summer of 2008:

-The Dark Knight (no shit, so did everyone; I loved it, so did everyone)
-Iron Man (<---favorite movie of the summer)
-Mamma Mia!
-Sex & the City
-The Hulk* (by far the worst movie of all released this summer)
-The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor* (oh, no wait, this was the worst.)
-Tropic Thunder*
-Pineapple Express
-Indiana Jones: Kingdom of the Crystal Skull (also v. dumb)

What Shows I Attended in the Summer of 2008:

-Johnny Cigar Presents: Give Me That Old By and By
-North Shore Fish
-The Bully Pulpit
-A Chorus Line
-Sympathetic Division
-HAIR in the park
-Green Eyes: A New Musical

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Well, altogether, I'm a little embarassed about how few shows I've attended...and there weren't enough concerts to merit a list (and they all involved my Dad anyhow). I could get into DVD rentals, but eh. Even if it was the entire collected works of Stephanie Meyer, books win!

*NBR Screening

the most wonderous of all wonderbras

Okay. I have purchased THE MOST magical bra, ever made, ever. At least for my particular rack. I probably shouldn't talk about it, let alone blog about it, in case that somehow reduces its power. But I MUST. I must share the shocking feeling of walking down the street and suddenly being aware...that I am being watched...by almost everyone.

This bra is also the world's best gay-dar. I am the worst when it comes to making eyes at gay men (because what can I tell you, I like PRETTY, and that shouldn't be a crime), and the bra is a fucking fool proof indicator of sexual orientation.

The thing about this bra is, when I first saw it in Victoria's Secret, I wasn't particularly impressed. It's a decent color - creamy, lacy - with this odd metal clasp in the middle. I looked at the clasp - a little heart shaped thing that didn't close all the way. WTF? I took it to the dressing room with several other options. I didn't think it would be the winner.

Then, when I put it on, I discovered the function of the unclosable clasp.

Cleavage Adjustment.

Fucking brilliant.

So I bought it.

I have yet to put it on a high setting, but it doesn't matter. There's something about the make of it, combined with my body that makes everything...um...bounce. Doesn't matter what shirt I wear. Bounce bounce bounce. It's a little unnerving, all that extra movement in an area that's usually just kinda there. But once I adjust, my walk starts to change a little bit...I stand up a little straighter to accommodate...and then it becomes dangerous to walk through construction areas.

There was a dude sitting in the showroom window of Artistic Tile on 21st street, next to his wife and kids, who made eye contact with me, then the rack, then me again...then grin...I mean, turn around dude, you're buying tiles with your wife! Dude at Chipotle gave me free chips and didn't charge me for my water either. And the street commentary? Classic.

Situation: I am carrying a cup full of Red Mango yogurt for my boss.
Courier/Messenger Boy Comment: Hey mami, that looks mad tasty. So does your ice cream.

Situation: I am in Bank of America
Dude in a Suit: Come here often?
Me: Um, it's the bank.
Dude in a Suit: Yeah, do you come to this one often?
Me: Sure.
Dude in a Suit: So do I. Maybe we'll get to be friends.
Me: Sounds great. (I promptly exit...)

Situation: I am carrying a yoga mat.
Young Thug: Check it out, brah, she's fuckin' flexible too.
Young Thug 2: Nice legs, sexy.
Young Thug: Think of me when you do that upside down shit! I put you upside down too, sexy!



I'm not trying to boast. It's just blowing my mind, man. I mean, my friends - Aussie, Daisy, Judy - THOSE girls have boobs. When I wear a short skirt in my neighborhood, I hear about it, but I'm not really the type that gets hollered at 24-7. So heck. I'm gonna enjoy it.

Me & the wonderbra must take to the streets now...work day is over.

xoxo
M

money, baby

Ah, another long day at the office otherwise known at Times2, otherwise known as the Armpit of New York.

I actually don't find it particularly depressing anymore. And as I sit here, in my favorite pajamas, a brand new black Macbook charging by my feet, life in bleak ol' 2008 seems pretty ok. The LegaBlonde team got pretty deep today - the discussion in front of TKTS was economic crisis, gas prices, radical politics, conspiracy theory; big stuff! And yeah, shit SUCKS all over the place right now. All of my working artist or arts-related friends? You are mad lucky people. The most common topics of conversation nowadays seem to be:

1. taking on too many bread jobs
2. going in for unpaid student films
3. not getting called for anything
and, of course
4. how the fuck do I keep getting up in the morning for all of this?

How indeed!

It's New York (and I gotta stop watching movies about L.A. that make it seem like things might be more fun out there. L.A. is no place for a theatre girl!), and today, I got up for New York. To see my Dad's name on the marquee of the Nokia theatre, and to buy a ticket to see Equus by myself in a few months. Because even though I don't have the spare 80 bucks, I dug it up so I've got something to get up for on October 4th - a date with Peter Schaffer, horses and a play that's so good I could throw up. Say what you will about Harry Potter - I can't imagine how you could fuck that play up so much that I wouldn't love it. It's EQUUS.

Last night, Brother and I stood in the front door of a bar on 46th and watched Phelps & the rest of the American swim team take that final gold and break records. It was pretty awesome. The bar went nuts. It's not very often that I'm psyched to be American - I can probably count those moments on one hand. But yeah. Pretty psyched. Screamin' for some swimmin'.


New pretty Macbook is charged, and I have bread job dos to get up for in the morning. But I also have ALLIES, an At Hand reading, and a gangsta rap video to get up for as well. The newly established music video company has a name (Baby Bear Productions), and four more shoots to do...so look out for more of the gang in coming weeks. In the meantime, I leave you with the finished product of our initial efforts, for those who haven't already seen it twenty times over.

post fragment

I feel pretty demented right now.

The reading for Little Trees got canceled yesterday, due to the playwright being overwhelmed - she's in another play, and the co-director of another theatre company.

DAMMIT!

Silly as it was, I was sorta hanging my hat on that making things a little brighter, so when I got that phone call in the elevator at work, it was like....fuuuuuck, man!

So I spent yesterday (and Sunday, albeit for different reasons) being angry and resentful of anyone who was in a remotely good mood. But today is a new day, and I'm back at the office, typin' away and contemplating what is, can and will be good. It seems to me being a freelance artist of any kind (or maybe a person of any kind...? the Suit doesn't seem to have feelings like this...) is a constant process of propping yourself up. Unless you're one of those rare creatures that doesn't give a damn about rejection of any kind, and rolls from audition to audition without a care.