Tuesday, July 31, 2007

So I just heard that clavicles are the body part du-jour. Yes!

Friday, July 27, 2007

So I had a fabulusssss weekend, which came as a surprise because it was in San Antonio, which as we know incites me to anger with it's fancy riverwalking and alamo merchandise. Who do you think you are San Antonio, Santa Fe?
But this time I got to spend time with one of my favorite art-stars, Marie Lorenz who had an opening at ArtPace.

Check it: MarieLorenz

She makes semi-functional boats, anti-historical woodcuts about the likes of Lewis and Clark, daily comics that rock my world (and coincidentally, are often about rocks), among other amazing things. I would check out her project "Tide and Current Taxi" as it is an amusing guerilla-type intervention in New York's harbor.

Annnnnd, Arturo and I got to stay in one of the fancy ArtPace apartments they gave Marie which made my week because as you now know, I like fancy things that are free and come equipped with beer. Arturo and I sat around all day watching VH1, reading about the legacy of ArtPace, wondering which hawt artists had done it in the apartment (I think Carolee Schneeman stayed in the apt. in 99'--it was like our scrolls were touching). Also, last night Marie, Arturo and I snuck out a window to the ArtPace roof where we imbibed red wine and gurgly conversations about architecture from the Reagan era.

Then, tonight I went to Unit B for Risa's curatorial gift to San Antone, which was a great two-person show with Erin Curtis and Karen Mahaffy. However, I'm getting sick and thus came back from San Antonio relatively early. Early enough to escape the wrath I feel when I stay in the S.A. too long.

*I am sad though to have missed this one Dragon exhibit in S.A. that advertised by stating "Here be Dragons."

*Annnnd, this weekend I might get to spend some time with another one of my favorite art-stars, Mr. Trenton Doyle Hancock himself.

Monday, July 23, 2007

Much like Stella, (although without the help of a well-chiseled Taye Diggs) I have gotten my groove back. Yes, that's right, MelancALI is gone and a work-producing, well-adjusted, patriotic American resides in her place (which was marked with wet hot tears and old Belle and Sebastian LPs). I have been making little dioramas about the trials and tribulations of Sad Little White Girl and they are getting progressively less shitty.

*Although they still retain the level of shittiness that is my signature.

And what do I listen to these days in the studio, you may ask? Well, after some initial resistance, I've given those new emo brit girls a chance. You know, that Amy Winehouse lady and her compatriot Lily Allen. I'm also re-listening to Regina Spektor and my family member in soul only, Ella Fitzgerald.

Speaking of studio, I think I'm getting a new one (or a real one). It's in a tree house! I'm really not shitting you. I am so excited, it is the most awesome (and affordable) studio I've ever seen. And it's in a tree house! With a balcony! Right above Barton Springs! And I'm going to install one of those "Home Alone" string-rides! And I'm going to have tree house orgy parties! With togas! And a Swiss Family Robinson lock-in! And it's in a tree house! I think I have mosaic down-syndrome as regards my uber excitement about my tree-house-cum-studio.

In other news,
I am coordinating a top-secret project with a few lovely lady writers. No, it doesn't involve some Bloomsbury Group tree house orgy clan....or does it?
I watched "Spellbound" for the first time the other day. I was riveted. But then, I love me some spelling.
I read the last 10 pages of Risa's copy of "Harry Potter" and now hold it over everyone that I know what happens. I've never done that before, loathe as I am to know an ending, but I hate J.K. Rowling's prose and refuse to really read them. Sorry wizarding friends.
My class is cute, and we have interesting critiques. They write stuff down when I talk and I just want to shake them and tell them I'm verbally incontinent and no one can teach art anyhow.

Sunday, July 22, 2007

Tammy Faye died today. She was my muse.

Thursday, July 19, 2007

Here are some suspenseful movies I've viewed recently that I would recommend for the discerning D-list horrorlover:
*By "recommend" I mean shrug disinterestedly, with a prolonged eye-roll and an artful yawn

Premonition: Sandra Bullock is caught in some fatalistic deck of cards and struggles to prevent her boring (but well-groomed!) husband from dying. Blah. Things move backwards, things move forward and nobody "does it" in the whole movie. The director obviously went to M. Night Shamalmamalalalalyan's Upside-Down-Illiterate-In-All-Things-But-Stephen-King-School-of-shit. Ali's grade: D- (I don't believe in the larger picture or in Sandy's ability to portray anyone who is not the character she played in "Speed").

Black Snake Moan: In this delightful romp through an STD-ridden Alabama town, we watch as an emaciated Christina Ricci succumbs to a "sickness" wherein she yearns to "s" everybody's "d." She is then cured with chains, choice biblical verses and the affected guitar strumming of Samuel L. Jackson. Ali's grade: B. Not too bad, I like the whole "doing it" aspect of the movie, along with the oppressive Baptist sex scare, although Justin Timberlake as an overly anxious Iraq War veteran didn't sit right with me. Actually it did, I like him. There, I said it.



The Covenant:
This was the best and worst movie of them all. It is about amazingly attractive boarding school warlocks who move hummers with their blackened eyeballs and court young ladies with impressive magic-enhanced pool games. There is also a parallel between spell-casting and drug abuse, with the young warlocks calling magical practice "using." This movie was uhmazing. I think you learn more about human nature by watching movies as transparent as this than anything at Cannes

For instance, who knew 5 young men were set to inherit the "House of Ipswich?" Or that improper magic-maintenance can lead to premature aging?

Ali's Grade: A+++++++

Tuesday, July 17, 2007

Today I made my class watch "The Adventures of Baron Munchausen." They think I'm crazy like Terry Gilliam.

In other news: Risa and I are on an all-fruit and fruit-ish substances diet. It is very fibrous, so soon I will be at my old fighting weight. You know, when I was a world-renowned pugilist.

Sunday, July 15, 2007

Friday, July 13, 2007

Matt, Virginia and I tried to pay our respect to Lady Bird Johnson's body today at her memorial, which is unfortunately, where I park. It was too crowded to see as there were tons of war veteran amputees and old-school Texas women with pearls and smiles and pantskirts. They played some reverent, ambient bagpipe music and they had complimentary water (which was like the only thing missing an LBJ insignia). I made some joke to Matt about reviving Lady Bird in the casket with a salacious kiss. Yes, it was inappropriate.

I loved Lady Bird, she was a great lady and a great bird.

However, because of the crowd, secret service agents, and president Clinton among others, I could not remove my car from said parking lot. Apparently, they are on "lock down" and I can only retrieve my vehicle after Lady Bird has left the building.

Note to self: Do not park in the "Lyndon B. Johnson Parking Lot" during special occasions like the death of his former first lady.

We'll miss you, Lady Bird.

Wednesday, July 11, 2007

Just saw the 5th "Harry Potter." Loved it. Good and Eviiiiiiiiiil really come to a head. Lord Voldemort is hawt.

Tuesday, July 10, 2007

I have a confession:
My life is a cleverly orchestrated ruse. In reality I am the true prince of Bel Air and maintain all the wealth that position implies.

Sorry, I'm tired as I have gotten up in the 7's of the a.m.'s for 2 days straight now. It hurts my brain. And the multiple caffeinated beverages I snort hurt it even more. My class is lovely, but I cannot divulge too much for fear they will read this blog and discover how much I like bullshittery and drunkkissery and tomfoolery and shittalkering. Plus, I would be afraid they would get too attached to my Bel Air lifestyle and latch on like some undergrad barnacle babies. Undergrad Barnacle Babies! Are you listening J.K. Rowling? Can you smell the new direction? It's fun and it's fishy!

Um. Also, I moved in with Risa, which is lovely but she has a smelly cat. And it's not endearing in the same way that the Phoebe song is.

I made my class read an article about Frida! Ha! Frida is psycho like fer realz.

*AT LEAST 80% OF THIS BLOG ENTRY WAS DIRECTLY TRANSCRIBED FROM AN EPISODE OF " THE FRESH PRINCE OF BEL AIR"

Sunday, July 08, 2007

Friday, July 06, 2007




I'm a princess.
Ok, I'm guessing this is a fluke, but tis' a funny fluke. CNN linked my blog for some article about Austin. They specifically tagged my Chain Drive blog entry. I am famous bitches. Suck my toes.
Here's the link:


Um for some reason the link is not showing up, so here it is, type it out you lazy bastards.

http://www.cnn.com/2007/TRAVEL/getaways/07/03/austin.texas/index.html

Thursday, July 05, 2007

I love Dan Savage. His advice on love and sex is so incisive and perfect. I am listening to his podcast on www.thestranger.com, and you all should listen immediately. It will be like we're linking ears. Sexeducationisimportantpeople.

Monday, July 02, 2007

Now UT wants me to teach a Summer class starting next week. I am the shit.

*Or someone else was the shit, turned U.T. down and then it came groveling to me like some sad little state institution, longhorn between its legs. Whatever, who's counting? Answer: me.

Sometimes everything just congeals in my head like some mindslug, and I am unable to tear apart the little creature in any sort of satisfactory way. Is it because it is too hot? It is too hot. When I went to a wedding in D.C. the other week, whenever anyone asked me about Texas, I just replied, "it's really, really hot." Now, this is partly because I am an asshole, especially as formal parties and the like, but also because it is just too fucking hot here. How do I forget every Summer? I have like some seasonal Memento disease that blocks out memories above 80 degrees.

Here's my "Why the fuck am I still in grad-school philosophical bullshit mode?" question of the week:
Is moral relativism the same as spinelessness? I always declared myself a moral relativist but is that just because I am lazy? Who knows. I can't decide whether I need more conviction or more Kant. Maybe both. See? I can't decide.

coincidentally, "w.t.f.a.i.s.i.g.s.p.b.m.?" questions will be part of a recurring series ending with my complete and total lobotomy.