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.

dickishness

Why haven't I posted anything recently? Well, I'll tell you why: because what I want to post about—e.g., the ridiculous things that happen to me on a daily [fine, weekly] basis—would involve slightly too much trash-talking to be viable when so many folks I know read this blog. Allow me to explain: this blog became boring for me to post on when I started worrying about pissing people off, since I apparently can't write about anything without pissing someone off. And what's the point of blogging if I can't vent about the weird crap that happens to me?

Other than that, here is a list of things that have happened in the past month:

• Blythe visited. Despite having really bizarrely yellowy-colored hair, made out with a random dude on the dance floor. And then I dragged (literally, dragged) a profoundly drunk Blythe 4 avenue blocks across town to get in a cab.
• Went on a date with same random dude the next day (yes, I know, the next day. Whatever, I wasn't doing anything)... to see The Wrestler. Conan O'Brien was sitting next to us. Random dude wants to hold my hand during the movie. I am confused, since the movie is about a washed-up wrestler and occasionally Marisa Tomei trots about without her top. Not really hand holding material, I think? And Conan is sitting next to us, and my hand is sweating, and really, you want to hold hands while Marisa Tomei swings herself around a stripper pole? Anyway, nice guy but didn't hear from him after that evening. Whatever. Rejection is my life these days and I just can't get it up to care.
  
• Got a super-sweet, completely absurd Tshirt in the mail from Michael5000.
• Met crossword sensation (so he tells me. And tells me) Rex Parker in real life, dragged him to the NY Public Library, MoMA, and organicy-good restaurant. He fed me, which earns him 10,000 virgins in the next life.
  
• Obtained a bionic arm. (Next stop: world domination.)
• Drank two bottles of champagne with roommate and her boyfriend. MIRACULOUSLY not hungover.
• Re-read 6 romance novels that I've already read. Realize I have been celibate for longer than is normal. Life begins to lose its meaning. Or perhaps it's just March.
  
• Got funding to go to Florence.
• Successfully avoided doing any work at all today. Excellent.
  

I want to go to there

I want to go to a place that has the following things:
unhappy Ex-boyfriends
free hot chocolate
kittenheads
art
my brother's dog
magical wrist-ligament-healing water or fairies or wizards or whatever
lots of sunlight
a beach
friendly people who want to give me money

If you know of a place like this, please contact me ASAP.

GimpMaster 3000

Yeah. Thanks to being too flexible and undermuscular, I've reinjured myself. I have to immobilize my wrist for SIX F*ING WEEKS. Ya'll better get used to seeing some poorly typed posts.


...Also, I did mention I'm a grad student, right? THAT MY LIFE CONSISTS OF TAKING NOTES AND WRITING?

Balls.

ahead of the curve?

Strangely enough, I am slightly ahead of the curve in terms of this semester's work. Turns out it's much easier to get cracking earlier in the semester when one isn't working three days a week, doesn't have to write a lecture about STDs and health service art from scratch [ha! bad pun], and --instead of 3 seminars with 100 pages of reading and a 3 page response paper PER CLASS PER WEEK-- takes only 2 classes. In fact, the first two weeks of January were so profoundly hellish, it was actually a relief to head into February. Weird.

As a result, I'm hoping to be able to blog just a little bit more (including on Kittenheads). Considering the bad luck I've had with blogging of a personal nature, I'm going to have to come up with a more specific objective, so I'll probably just post more about the artsy stuff I'm finding.

Like, for example, Holland Cotter's gleeful celebration of the tanking of the art market at NYTimes, The Boom Is Over. Long Live the Art! Laugh it up, buster. We'll see how many art critics are left in a year.

In the meantime, I will leave you with the following quote describing the plight of the foreign worker in spiraling Dubai:

"We are all just sleeping, smoking, drinking coffee and having headaches because of the situation."*

It is rather strange and sad that this is a pretty accurate description of my life in general--with or without any economic crises.


*From from Hamza Thiab, a 27-year-old Iraqi who moved to Dubai from Baghdad in 2005, lost his job, and has until the end of February to find a new one. In Laid-Off Foreigners Flee as Dubai Spirals Down. (NYTimes,Feb 11, 2009)

Worst Laid Plans

Given our similarity in size (scrawny), features (small), attitude (snarky), and a certain overly dramatic way of telling a story, perhaps it is no coincidence that, in high school, the woman in this video and I were frequently confused for each other. She started off college as an art history major, I as a drama major, and then we switched. I kind of have a feeling that we both should have stuck to our original plans. The best laid plans...

these are not the hammer

In preparation for AWESOMEFEST 2009 (i.e., Blythe coming to NYC TOMORROW), I have been watching this masterwork of awesomeness: Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog. i'm sure that I am only about 9 months behind on this, but whatever. To watch it is to love it:Please refer to 24:50-25:05. Thank you, Joss Whedon.