Quondam Dreams

Tuesday, January 24, 2006

L.A. Vignette

One recent afternoon, my friend Rachel and I were waiting for a couple of other folks outside the movie theater at the Grove. We saw a woman walking a small, fluffy, blue shirt-clad dog past the dog purse kiosk across from the theater.

The woman stopped, picked up the dog, and held it next to one of the purses. The purse was slightly larger than the other dog, but other than that, they were dead ringers for each other.

The woman laughed, put down the dog, and they walked away. I'm pretty sure I saw the dog cringe. It knew the score. What advantage could a living, breathing, eating, pooing, not-available-in-any-other-colors fashion-accessory dog have over a suite of dog-shaped fashion accessories? The best it could hope for was a shirt change.

A special note for those of you in other areas of the country who are mocking the L.A.-ness of it all: This took place outdoors. In 70-degree weather. In January. Ahem.

Friday, January 13, 2006

Review: Trapped In The Closet panel @ UCB

So last night I went
to the UCB theater
to see and hear and hear about and discuss R Kelly's Trapped in the Closet
chapters 6 through 12, y'all

it was standing room only
Aziz Ansari and Paul Scheer was jumpin', their wigs all fallin' off
like they was meaning to do that
the midget was there
the actual midget
from chapters 8 or 9 through 11 or whatever, only he didn't have no
inhaler or pie

and so was the closet
the closet was there
that stupid-ass closet
wanting to throw down
with Patton Oswalt
and Patton went for the closet
and the closet screamed "bring it, bitch"
and Patton brought it
but the host pulled out his Baretta
so Patton just said, "That doorknob didn't look like that
befooooooore -
you had work done on that doorknob"
and the door was like "bitch, bring it"

and the midget was smoking
and Fake Joe Eszterhas was drinking
and he gave me a drink of his booze, it was really good stuff
and we still don't know how Twon got there at the end of chapter si-iii-iii-iiiiiiix
and now I can't stop thinking
in sing-songy verse.... form.

Sunday, January 01, 2006

The obligatory year-gone-by wrap-up post-type thingy

I've been looking around at my friends' blogs, reading their answers to the usual year-end memes, and realizing that none of them really pertain to my year that was.

The odd thing is, the back of the paperback edition of Thomas Pynchon's The Crying Of Lot 49 kinda does:

The highly original satire about Oedipa Maas, a woman who finds herself enmeshed in a worldwide conspiracy, meets some extremely interesting characters, and attains a not inconsiderable amount of self knowledge.

I did a lot of things this year. Some of them I'd never done before; some of them I'd done way too many times already. Some of them I never thought I'd do, but I did. Some of the things that I thought I'd do didn't happen, but that's kind of how life goes for most of us.

I met some new people. I kept up existing friendships, for the most part. I tried to spend time with the people I love who love me because of who I am, not in spite of it or because they feel obligated to, and was (and am) grateful that there are so many of them. Was reminded that human relationships are often too complex to sum up in easy-to-parse sentences. Tried to accept that sometimes, I just have to cut my losses. Fell in lust at least once. Any new loves? Jury's still out.

I came to some realizations about certain people, especially in this most recent few weeks. If you're one of them, then you probably won't recognize yourself in that sentence.

Assessed my assets. Changed hair product, refocused my writing and bought some really good bras.

I didn't do anything of which I'm terribly ashamed, although some of the things I did do would probably surprise some people who don't know me as well as they think they do. (My political viability is, sadly, still intact.) I dropped the ball on a few things, but all in all I don't recall letting anyone down terribly, at least not without a sincere effort to make it up to them. I tried not to apologize for things that weren't my fault. I did, of course. That's just me.

Had my last show at one theater. Had my first shows at three others. Helped out on several other productions, because my friends needed the help and I needed the experience. Yay, symbiosis. And it turns out I'm pretty good at no-budget online marketing.

Made a conscious effort to stop expending so much energy on trying to categorize and label all the intangibles in my life -- which was kind of funny, since my job for the first half of the year was centered on categorizing and labeling intangibles. At least they weren't mine.

I spent the employed portions of my year at various contract gigs. You can tell a lot about a company by how they treat their contractors.

Sustained a few minor injuries, the sort of thing one incurs when one is a klutz with little depth perception. Developed some really weird reactions to all the stress I was under.

Made a bunch of crafty-type things. Read a lot of books. Sang a lot of karaoke. Watched too much TV. Saw too few movies.

Wrote a lot. Most of what I produced has my name on it, but some of the best stuff doesn't. Email me if you need the details on that.

Most importantly, I survived the year. And, look, here's another one. Time for my traditional toast:

Here's to the new year. May it suck less than the old.