popping the reality TV talent competition cherry

Ok, so I've had my little procrastination moment this morning and watched Susan Boyle perform on Britain's Got Talent (YouTube won't let me embed the video).

As former a musical theatre junkie, I am intimately acquainted with her song, "I Dreamed a Dream" from Les Miserables. Now, I have to say that I was moved by her performance, but I think that that was due--at least in part--to the song itself, which is incredibly moving. To contrast, please listen to Ruthie Henshall (from the "Les Misérables: The Dream Cast in Concert" 10th Anniversary performance in October 1995):

*Tears!* Boyle's excessive vibrato seems empty in comparison to Henshall's powerful but very well-controlled interpretation. Just singing loudly and vibrato-y does NOT a good singer make: Vibrato is not a toy, people! Nor is it a substitute for thoughtful interpretation or musical ability.

I was more impressed by this dude (Paul Potts):

At 0:27, he looks EXACTLY the way I feel when I'm forced to sing in front of people (and also, I imagine, the way people look when they're forced to listen to me sing in front of them). He sounds a tiny bit better than I do, though.

My confession: this is the FIRST TIME I've ever, ever watched one of these reality TV talent shows. You know what this means? I have never encountered Simon Cowell before. There's something quite... sexy, about him, isn't there? It's weird. In the video of Susan Boyle, he does these odd things with his eyebrows, and with Paul Potts, he's playing with a pen in his mouth. I'm a little disturbed. Is he like this on American Idol?

**If you want to listen to another musical theatre exemplar, go to YouTube and type in Lea Salonga.

the best time of my life

Hogwash. And the next person who tells me that being in one's 30s is so much better than being in one's 20s is going to get a swift kick to the head. Let's put it this way:

• I'm turning 30 on Sunday.
• The most recent Ex moved across several continents to be with Girlfriend 2.0.
• My college boyfriend is engaged.
• The English boy who broke my heart in 2001 is married.
• My little brother is married.
• I haven't dated anyone seriously for almost 2 years.

And this morning I learned that:

• My little brother's wife is PREGNANT.
• Also, I'm turning 30 on Sunday.

I think I deserve cookies for not starting to bawl on the phone with my super-psyched brother, for being able to suggest that they name the child Biscuit (good for a boy or girl!). No, I did not start crying.

I waited until I hung up.

Listen, I know I am ridiculous. But I'm turning 30 on Sunday (did I mention that?) and it kind of sucks in the "personal life" department right now. Thank God I have Blythe on speed dial to talk me down from the ledge.

jam-packed

As I was taking a break from the 19th-Century art history conference today at Columbia, I heard a guitar piddling around, and it sounded kind of like one of my favorite bands. Which was weird, because why would VAMPIRE WEEKEND being playing at Columbia today, when I'm supposed to be in a darkened lecture hall from 9am until 5pm and it's 79 degrees outside? Well, turns out that it was indeed Vampire Weekend testing out the old sound system and that they were going to play at 3pm, followed by Talib Kweli. (Yes, really.)


Needless to say, I skipped out on the afternoon sessions (though I returned, of course, for the cheese and cheap wine at the reception) and stood on Alma Mater's feet to enjoy the 45 minute set and the blazing sunshine:


It was, as the French say, LE AWESOME. I mean, really, I'm just wandering around campus, happen to hear a few random notes of music and discover that one of my favorite bands is playing that day? And it's beautiful out? And the band is LE AWESOME live? This, my friends, THIS, is why I love New York City.

...And for those of you out there who aren't jealous enough, I give you a snippet of the closing number, "Walcott":


Fantastic.

pity me

I was all feeling depressed and mopey last night for some reason, and it only got worse this morning, when I was listening to Kiri Te Kanawa sing "O mio babbino caro" from Gianni Schicchi, which is used about halfway through the clip from Room With a View below, which happens to be one of my favorite scenes from that movie, which happens to be based on one of my favorite books, when I realized, mouth flapping open like a fish:
I'm going to be living ...there. THERE. In about a month, I'm going to be LIVING THERE (there being Florence).

I mean, URGH. How depressing! I'm going to have to deal with eyesores like:and
and
and, worst of all:

Poor me!



...Uh, rest assured that I'm elated and that I'm just trying not to gloat too much. (Okay, that last statement was a lie. But you know what, I haven't been on a decent vacation in YEARS, and I deserve one.) I'm excited and terrified--I don't speak Italian, and did I mention I'm sharing an apartment with 6 other people who are in my graduate program? ... I just can't wrap my head around it. Awesome. One of my many goals is to return with a decent salami. Mmmmm.

And sorry, no, there is no extra room in my backpack for an extra person. Though if you send me your post address, I'll mail you a gloating postcard.