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Also, just so everyone knows, comments are welcome on this blog, and, in fact, they make it much more fun for me to write on this blog.

Coat, shopping

So, I went shopping again today. I went to Bloomingdale's, Saks Fifth Avenue, and Macy's and didn't buy anything (though I did get sprayed with three different men's fragrances). Though I didn't buy all that much (just a hat), I got one really special item. When I went to Ina Men yesterday to try things on, I took a look at this pretty galaxy blue men's coat with a corduroy collar by Marc Jacobs, but I didn't really thing too seriously about buying it. Today, when I came back to look around again (I particularly need black or gray pants), i took a second look at it and make the decision to go for it. It was a little pricey, but it's perhaps the most comfortable and beautiful coats I've ever owned. Anyway, here I am in it (with my head sort of cut off):

The sleeves are a bit long (they're rolled up in the picture), so I may get another button added to the cuffs (as per the salesman's suggestion).

"Fame Becomes Me," shopping.

So today was a good one. For one, I had breakfast for the first time since returning to NYU. After that, I went shopping again and bought a flowery black and white shirt (and an umbrella, since two spokes on my cheap one broke only since returning to the city). I've been eyeing a leather jacket that they sell, and it fits nicely and feels great, but I'm wondering -- am I a leather jacket man?

What classifies one as a leather jacket man? I'm certainly short on muscle. I certainly don't want to be mistaken for one of those burly chaps-wearing S&M gays. Well, I'll probably buy it anyway, as it makes me feel cool. Oh, I can't wait till my midlife crisis.

After shopping in Soho, I went to midtown and acquired a ticket to Martin Short: Fame Becomes Me at 7 PM. I wasn't entirely sure if I wanted to see it, but the reviews had been lukewarm, and I've seen just about everything else on Broadway (except for Tarzan, which I'll stick to my guns on and skip, and The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee, which I'm still waiting to see because of the lottery policy). Anyway, despite my trepidation, it turned out to be a great show.

It's a scattershot revue with a pastiche of songs recalling other Broadway shows (Wicked, Dreamgirls, Kander & Ebb style shows). Short, in structuring the show as a tell-all (or is it none) story (“A lot of what I’m telling you tonight will be true,” he says, “a lot I’ll be making up. See if you can tell the difference."), actually ends up placing a good deal of the focus on his group of "Comedy All-Stars," all of whom are delighful and, collectively, far outshone Short in my opinion. When he was onstage going on and on with some shtick I wasn't particularly responding to, I just wanted the All-Stars to come back again.

Each player had a few great moments to shine. Mary Birdsong, apparently making her Broadway debut, channeled Judy Garland and Liza Minnelli wonderfully in spoofs of, respectively, The Wizard of Oz and Studio 54. Judy and Liza impressions, of course, are always a plus for me. Brooks Ashmanskas and understudy Jill Abramovitz were great in assorted roles, as was composer and co-lyricist Marc Shaiman at the piano. The highlight of the show for me, though, was Capathia Jenkins as "Big Black Lady," who gets to stop the show with the eleven o'clock number "Stop the Show," which brought down the house. Dissapointingly, she didn't appear in the show until her showstopping number close to the end in which she proclaims that all such showstopping "big black lady" songs are written by "gay white Jews." Clearly, they were saving the best for last.

Also notable were sequences where Short remembers his fictional past playing Jesus' stepbrother in an off-off-Broadway musical entitled Step Brother de Jesus and the interview segment (for which Short rotates guests, appearing as one of his signature characters, Jiminy Glick). Tonight's guest was Dick Cavett, whom I'm not too familiar with but is apparently famous for hosting "The Dick Cavett Show" throughout the '60s and '70s. No matter, he was a riot.

All in all, the show wasn't quite Broadway gold, but it was a great way to cap off the summer and to stoke the fires of a promising new Broadway season.

Anyway, I also apparently also have a large tattoo on my forehead only visible to theatregoers and others in showbiz that says "TELL ME A STORY" in big, bold black letters. The usher before the show engaged me in a long conversation that extended even after she seated several groups of patrons about her various experiences as a replacement usher, founder of her own theatre company (which she departed due to "artistic differences"), and her strong principles that stop her from being quite so open to collaborating with other theatre artists (which is, obviously, essential). She was quite nice, but I always end up talking for longer than I mean to when a conversation is stricken up at a show. It certainly is a good sign for the state of the world, though, that conversations can be started among theatre patrons though without much anxiety. I've had many a great conversation in the audience of a show where I've gone by myself and ended up talking to a random neighbor. All in all, I like going to theatre alone (with some exceptions, of course), because it forces me to think about the show rather than to strike up other conversation.

Move-in day, "Mother Courage"

So, yesterday I moved into my Seventh Street dorm in NYC. It's a pretty big suite with a small kitchen and large living room. The move-in process was a lot less painful than last year, and we got everything up in about three trips on the elevator. I settled in relatively quickly, but it took me a little bit of time to figure out how to work the internet again. I'm still attempting to get the cable hooked up, but there's no rush for that as long as it's up and running for Project Runway on Wednesday.

So yesterday I was walking to get food with a vague idea of checking out how the line was for Shakespeare in the Park in front of the Public Theatre. Since it was drizzling and had been raining on and off all day, I didn't figure a lot of people would be in line, and I was right. I hopped right into the line at 1:01 or so (which is actually after they start giving out the tickets, at 1) and got a nice seat about halfway back in the theatre in Central Park.

The play was Mother Courage starring Meryl Streep, who performed with boundless energy and snarky determination. The play centers around Mother Courage, a mother of three, during the Thirty Years' War. Courage, with the help of her children and, at times, a cook and chaplain, pushes a cart of goods along behind the Protestant troops. The play tackles the theme of war and its destruction and how profiteering from war can ruin people. It's considered one of the greatest plays of the 20th Century, and Meryl is probably my favorite actress, so I was hoping beyond hope that I could secure a ticket, and I know that many have waited long, hard hours to get a ticket, often arriving the night before the performance. It would have been worth the wait.

Jennifer Lewis as Yvette, a hardened street whore, and Meryl Streep.

The play is one by Bertolt Brecht, whose The Threepenny Opera I also enjoyed at Studio 54 this past spring. The adaptation, which sometimes felt awkward but nonetheless kept my attention, was by Tony Kushner of Angels in America fame, and the music was by Jeanine Tesori, who previously collaborated with Kushner to write Caroline, or Change, which spawned one of my favorite cast recordings. Though the threat of rain lingered into the first act, by the second act, all was clear and the breeze was cool and calm. Overall, it was a spectacular night.

Alexandria Wailes, Geoffrey Arend, and Frederick Weller as Courage's children, Kattrin, Swiss Cheese, and Eilif respectively, alongside Meryl Streep.

License

Oh, and I almost forgot to post that I got my driver's license last Saturday after my fourth attempt. I wasn't actually perfect on the test, but the girl behind me was getting sassy with the examiner, threatening him and trying to take his clipboard.

Anyway, I'm uninsured, so I can't drive for a while now anyway. But I have the card!!

"SoaP," 3 days, waiting

Okay, so I had no interest in seeing Snakes on a Plane based on all of the hype that had been coming out of the internet and television. It sounded terribly stupid, unentertaining, blah. Despite my vague reluctance, I went to see the film last night, mostly because the review on The New York Times was actually favorable and because Leah seemed unusually psyched about it.

Four words: Best. Worst. Movie. Ever.

Oftentimes, bad movies are boring. They're funny despite the fact that they sag, the acting is painful, the effects laughable. Sometimes references within the movie itself are even incorrect or inconsistent (see The Core with Hilary Swank).

Not so with Snakes. It's an absolutely horrible movie: the lines are unbearably stupid, the snakes are horribly computer generated, the plot is terribly unrealistic (why would mobsters choose to release snakes onto a plane to kill a witness rather than just shoot him?), but, despite all that, it manages to be an absolutely hilarious and fast-paced movie. I was disappointed to find that the rapper aboard the plane was named "Three G's" rather than "Free Cheese," which I thought was the perfect bad movie name.

The actors are ultimately likeable, especially Samuel L. Jackson and Julianna Margulies, and they deliver their lines knowingly, the writers smartly choosing to begin at least several lines with "I can't believe I'm going to say this, but --." What helps the film be a satisfying blockbuster is its pace. It starts with a murder, escalates into a terrifyingly funny plane ride full of snakes, and ends with a surprise as well. I found myself wondering how the next unwitting passenger was going to hilariously die of a snake bite (starting with a couple joining the mile high club and a man urinating innocently). All in all, bad movie perfection. Rush out to see it -- it lives up to the hype. It had Christina, Leah, and me in stitches all through its 100-minute running time.

In other news, there are only three days left until I trek back to New York City. I can't wait to be back in my town. I'm excited for my classes, the theatre season, everything. I've yet to begin packing though, and that feeling is starting to come upon me where I just want to cross that threshold and get my stuff moved up there and settled in.

Also, it's been one week since my interview with Roundabout Theatre Company, and I've yet to hear back from my interviewer, Frank Surdi. I'm starting to worry a little bit about whether I've gotten the job or not, but I'm not giving up hope yet. I'm supposed to get a call either way, I believe, so I guess I may have heard by now if I was definitely not going to get the job. Whichever way it comes out, I'm anxious to know. I want that internship pretty badly, especially since my old boss at NYU Phonathon is switching positions and going back there would mean getting used to a whole new boss. Pleeeeease, Roundabout. I promise I'd be an amazing intern.

NYC, interview, etc.

So yesterday, I went to New York for the day for an interview with Roundabout Theatre Company for an internship in the finance department. It went really well; the interview was short (5-1o minutes), and the man I'd be working for seemed very nice.

After the interview, I went shopping for a bit and had a nice chicken parm panini at Europa Cafe (a chain of ready-made salad and sandwich shops), which was very good. I went to three H&Ms to shop for some fall clothes. I saw some nice blazers, but I thought I realized a conflict in prices between stores within the chain, so I decided to hold off until I could find out what was going on with that. The current ad campaign for H&M is a partnership with Madonna and the crew of her tour. A number of her dancers and staff chose clothes from the fall line to endorse (they're labeled with tags saying "Madonna and Crew [heart] H&M"), and Madonna created a special track suit. Anyway, the coup de grace were the huge (floor to ceiling -- sometimes in three-floor stores) banners of Madonna's face (similar to the picture to the left) greeting customers. It made me want to shop there for hours. If only they had a continuous Madonna soundtrack. Anyway, I ended up getting a pair of flip-flops (my first -- and they're pretty fun) and a pair of jeans.

Today the best piece of news I could find online was an unusual story out of a California chocolate factory. I originally incorrectly read the title as "Workers discover chocolate Bloody Mary" and ignored it, but when I took a second glance, I realized it read "Workers discover chocolate Virgin Mary." Needless to say, I was intrigued. It turns out one of the workers found that some dripped chocolate under a vat of chocolate had formed a 2-inch tall figure of what they interpret to be the Virgin Mary. Now, what makes the story eerie -- or eerier-- (obviously, the figure, pictured below, looks barely anything like the Virgin Mary -- I think the comparison of the figure to the image on her prayer card is what really makes the viewer train his or her eye to interpret that blob as a woman) is that the "chocolate drippings usually harden in thin, flat strips on wax paper." Well, whatever. I just thought that was funny. Interpret for yourself:

Personally, I think it looks closer to a piece of human excrement.

Computer

I really want my computer back. I hate posting without my laptop. 11 days till I move back to New York.

Since last I posted

So, my laptop is currently being looked at by a friend of my father's named Vince Calkins. That explains the lapse in my posting.

This past weekend was pretty fun. On Saturday I saw Wordplay with Christina and Leah, which was quite good. It definitely made completing crossword puzzles look a lot more sporty than it is. At night, I saw Beauty and the Beast at Summer Stage, which was entertaining enough if a bit boring. At least the kids in the audience really enjoyed it. There were some pretty awesome costumes and effects.

On Sunday, Christina and I went to pick blackberries at Linvilla Orchards. They were quite delicious, and it was a very interesting experience. There were so many cute little kids on the hayride over to the berry patch who seemed to have a great time. When we were done, I smashed a few of them into vanilla ice cream. We also watched Mommie Dearest, a wonderful cult film with Faye Dunaway in a magnificently over-the-top performance as movie star Joan Crawford and Diana Scarwid (who would go on to star in a role almost at Dunaway's level in the Lifetime movie Down Will Come Baby -- see an earlier post) as Christina Crawford, Joan's daughter.

Summer is just flying by. I got a message from my roommate for next year today as well, and he's not a psychopath. In fact, he seems pretty neat and even took last year off from college to write a novel. Anyway, I no longer fear for my life.

Till next time...