Tuesday, December 16, 2008

I'm watching A Charlie Brown Christmas in my USA bed after a particularly long bout of willful insomnia. Two days of traveling, 10 hours of a coughing chairmate practically straddling me thanks to US Airways' orgiastic inside joke disguised as comfort seating, 2 hours too many of Sex and the City Movie "aren't boys jerks?" quips...but then coming home to Charlie Brown's colorful, flat, slightly melancholy Christmas? So perfect, really.

Thursday, December 11, 2008

Things I do not care about or for:
Davidson Basketball. Please stop sending me emails requesting my e-participation in online "Wildcat Waves" and such. Please stop sending me messages in all caps about the consistency of whatever Coach RuddyFace spat during these "sporting games." Please stop sending me petitions to keep Stephen Curry--that living emblem of Greek athleticism and moral purity---on the Davidson Basketball team. I don't care until you make the final or whatever, and then I'll pretend like I cared all along and buy a t-shirt that is slightly too tight and draw your name on it with marker like I did with my man, Barack. But I have grown weary of this dramatic enthusiasm and quasi-collegiate nationalism, it only makes me wonder how long people rehearse basket-induced squealing naked in front of their mirror.

My short review of the Capitain Petzel show should be in tomorrow's ...mbg, I'll let you know. Today I'm going to the various Weinachtsmarkts around town to shop for Xmas gifts. I'm not sure where I'll find "liposuction," which is my sister's request for the holiday season. Perhaps I'll get a little wooden spoon and knife and cut that shit out Inquisition-style.
*Speaking of cutting, I really need to cut down on my hyphens, they are totally wiggedy-wack.

On Friday I'm going to the National Arts Club for a party hosted by Program where CocoRosie is DJing. Yesssssssssss. However, before that I have a Christmas partay at my workplace, Inlingua. Apparently, it's not horrible, but my roommate and I watched the British Office for a while to prepare me for the requisite slow-dance sequence and awkward exchange of specialty pens.

I'm coming home on the 16th! I am so excited to see Grammy, Andie, Momathan and Ms. Beach. I am also excited to give my full attention to my favorite member of the family, that metallic mediator that binds us all together; the television. Helllllllloooooo reruns of True Blood, hello new season of the L Word. Hello, I've missed you. Occasionally watching The Golden Girls in German doesn't actually get me off, I need your special touch baby.

Tuesday, December 02, 2008

Blurrrrrrg, sometimes I feel like such a fuck-up.
I'm making a lot of art and drinking less, but still manage to be tardy and forgetful. I just bought a second alarm clock from a Turkish market that is probably a hooka and not an alarm clock at all. I guess I'll know when my morningtime smells of cummin and tobacco.
I would attribute my flakiness to the the whole "artist mythos" thing, feigning Terence Koh-ness and flaunting my otherness, but I think that's bullshit, so I'll attribute it to my Freudian child love; chaos. Which is totally not bullshit.
This morning I brought Nicky O.J. (he's got a case of the sniffles) and watched a video of his performance in this absurdist "trilogy" of dance at the National Kunsthalle or something. It was fascinating. I heart absurd narratives and the dance that accompanies them.
Tonight I'm going to some acting school in F-hain to see my roommate, Lucia, perform her carrot scene. It should be interesting.
I'm also going to re-czech out Troy's show at Capitain-Petzel so that mayhaps I can write a thing or two about it.