Thursday, 12 July 2012
Prime real estate
Harry and Marmalade have taken up residence among the towels in the linen closet. The light in my hallway is bad, so I had to use a flash to get this pic and it's not very good. But aren't they cute? They turn one year old on Tuesday (no, we aren't having a party. I might be a spinster librarian, but I'm not crazy, people!)
Monday, 12 December 2011
SPEARS WEDDING INFO
THE JAMIE KENNEDY CHRONICLES
PART ONE: THURSDAY
Ok, I have 3 minutes to type this so I'll keep it short.
This weekend I had the honor of spending 3 full nights at Comedy Central's Premium Blend taping. I had a nice seat backstage in the green room; it was basically me, a monitor, my notebook, and lots of free food. (o thank you kraft services).
Jamie Kennedy of the failed, "Jamie Kennedy Experiement" was the host for all the tapings and is in fact in real life, a total goofball. He's full of fun, and a innate zest for life usually only reserved for 9-12 month old babies.
In any case, the green room is only about 8 feet from a door with a gold star marked "Jamie Kennedy" (STAR). As I furiously took notes on all the acts, I kept hearing noises from down the hall, but ignored them to better hear the comics on stage. Late on thursday evening, I hear..."HELP! HELP!". I leave the green room and walk into the hall. There is J. Kennedy himself, running back and forth head waving side to side, hands flailing in the air.
I'm like..."what's wrong?".
JK: "I can't find my dressing room!"
ANG: "really? You're right in front of it."
JK: "Oh Shit! Thanks so much! I swear to god they make these places into mazes on purpose!"
With that he entered his dressing room and I picked my jaw up off the floor.
"Whats my name again Dawgg?"
PART ONE: THURSDAY
Ok, I have 3 minutes to type this so I'll keep it short.
This weekend I had the honor of spending 3 full nights at Comedy Central's Premium Blend taping. I had a nice seat backstage in the green room; it was basically me, a monitor, my notebook, and lots of free food. (o thank you kraft services).
Jamie Kennedy of the failed, "Jamie Kennedy Experiement" was the host for all the tapings and is in fact in real life, a total goofball. He's full of fun, and a innate zest for life usually only reserved for 9-12 month old babies.
In any case, the green room is only about 8 feet from a door with a gold star marked "Jamie Kennedy" (STAR). As I furiously took notes on all the acts, I kept hearing noises from down the hall, but ignored them to better hear the comics on stage. Late on thursday evening, I hear..."HELP! HELP!". I leave the green room and walk into the hall. There is J. Kennedy himself, running back and forth head waving side to side, hands flailing in the air.
I'm like..."what's wrong?".
JK: "I can't find my dressing room!"
ANG: "really? You're right in front of it."
JK: "Oh Shit! Thanks so much! I swear to god they make these places into mazes on purpose!"
With that he entered his dressing room and I picked my jaw up off the floor.
"Whats my name again Dawgg?"
TO OLD TO TOUR
FYI...the longest post I have ever written...its just flowing out. apologies
When I was 14 years old I bought a CD called "Gentlemen" by The Afghan Whigs. I had only bought the CD because one night I was half asleep and opened my eyes long enough while flipping channels to get a glimpse of Greg Dulli in a leather coat singing his soul out on MTV's 120 mins. I was so taken by that glimpse that I flipped back to the video and wrote down the song info when the video was over. I purchased it the next day.
I was in a real gruge place back then so that CD stayed in shrink wrap for about 8 months before I first listened to it. I specifically remember thinking "ok, I'll give this one a shot, even though it looks pussy as hell" as I unwrapped it and began to read the inner notes. In any case I listened from track 1 to 12 in awe. I listened again and again that night, 5 times in all. I was taken. It was the most amazing thing I had ever heard. It was as if they were singing to me. ( I know, 14 year old girl alert) But in any case I coulndn't believe that all this time it had been siting next to my stero in shrink wrap, just waiting till I gave it a shot.
I took all my allowance and some savings the next day and headed to the mall to purchase anything Afghan Whigs I could get my hands on. All I could find was an EP from 1988 and a previous full release called "Congregation". I then combed CD stores every weekend looking for rare and unreleased tracks, etc.
So for the next two years The Whigs were solidified as my favorite band. I cried, laughed, and dubbed their music for anyone and everyone that could listen, I attempted to convince all my friends that had never heard of them (all) to give them a shot to no avail. It was the dog days of Ace Of Base, no one would listen.
So I went undergound. The rest of high school I followed the band through their music, and had a lofty dream of maybe one day seeing them play live. It was something that haunted me, I know I had to see them, the music meant so much to me.
College days were rough freshman year. I hated my first roommate, (a muppet) and secretly missed the security of home. I now had the internet at my fingertips, and one day found out about a mailing list called "congregation", run by avid Whigs fans. I signed up and couldn't believe the 40 or so emails daily that were sent to me by people who loved the band as much as I did. I worked 2 jobs and went to school to save up for the band's first live show in 2 years to be held Thanksgivng day, 1997. I had to tell my mom I wasn't coming home for Thanksgiving. My first year of college and I was skipping out on the fam to fly to the Big Easy for a rock concert. Oh yeah, and also meeting up with 40 or so internet fans that I had never met, oh yeah and sharing hotel rooms and booking itineraries with people that could have been ax murderers.
But I went. I flew alone, 18 years old and traveling without my parents for the first time. I was scared to death, but somehow managed to get a cab to the hotel and meet up with several other "Congos". The concert that evening was slated to start at 10pm. 15 of us went out for dinner and drinks, and assembled outside of the "Howlin Wolf" around 9:45pm.
I got in line with my friend from DC, Jackie, and we groaned when we saw how many people were ahead of us. After about 5 mins I overhear a bouncer telling some people that they have to be 21 to enter the club. This had been no where printed prior to that moment. Realizing that I had no ID and was 18 years old, I began to freak out. After the airfare and the hotel room, abandoning my family on Thanksgiving, I was going to get shut out for not being 21. I was going to die.
A split second later a previously locked door swings open and there stands a bouncer. He looks at me and Jackie and goes, "you can come in first, skip the line". We look at him and get out our tickets. Jackie who is 10 years older than me, goes first. The bouncer looks at her and says, "ID?". I collapse.
She hands him her ID and he waves her in. Then the bouncer takes my ticket and says to me "No ID necessary hon, and winks."
In amazement I entered the club. Its 10 by this time and the opening band is about to start. We take our positions (stage left all the way in the front) and get ready to enjoy the show.
In any case the show went about 5 hours long. I remember it being 2:30 am and the Whigs doing a third encore. I remember my feet about to explode. I remember getting invited backstage by the band and sharing a pint of Jack Daniels. I remember thinking that this was the most amazing night of my life. I remember the next day realizing that it had been.
So the years went by and I kept in touch with most of the friends I had made that weekend. We would randomly email, or attempt to meet up, or just hang out when Greg or The Whigs came to town. It was a warm community feeling with them. You could not see someone for 4 years and pick up right where you left off. We would meet up in Chicago, Atlanta, Philly, NOLA, and LA. We would bum rides and crash at apartments and pitch in for beers. It was a no brainer when they were in town, we would all hang for the show.
Which brings me to my point. (finnaly)
On October 16th, Greg Dulli's new music project "The Twilight Singers", are coming to Irving Plaza in NYC. I was IM'ing with a fellow congo alum yesterday who I originally met 5 years ago and is now married with a lovely son and another on the way. We realzed that we both may not go to the show because of work/family obligations. We realized we were "too old to rock". It was sad. I was sad. But its true. So my point? Dunno. I just want everyone to know that when its your time, make sure you rock the hell out of every minute.
When I was 14 years old I bought a CD called "Gentlemen" by The Afghan Whigs. I had only bought the CD because one night I was half asleep and opened my eyes long enough while flipping channels to get a glimpse of Greg Dulli in a leather coat singing his soul out on MTV's 120 mins. I was so taken by that glimpse that I flipped back to the video and wrote down the song info when the video was over. I purchased it the next day.
I was in a real gruge place back then so that CD stayed in shrink wrap for about 8 months before I first listened to it. I specifically remember thinking "ok, I'll give this one a shot, even though it looks pussy as hell" as I unwrapped it and began to read the inner notes. In any case I listened from track 1 to 12 in awe. I listened again and again that night, 5 times in all. I was taken. It was the most amazing thing I had ever heard. It was as if they were singing to me. ( I know, 14 year old girl alert) But in any case I coulndn't believe that all this time it had been siting next to my stero in shrink wrap, just waiting till I gave it a shot.
I took all my allowance and some savings the next day and headed to the mall to purchase anything Afghan Whigs I could get my hands on. All I could find was an EP from 1988 and a previous full release called "Congregation". I then combed CD stores every weekend looking for rare and unreleased tracks, etc.
So for the next two years The Whigs were solidified as my favorite band. I cried, laughed, and dubbed their music for anyone and everyone that could listen, I attempted to convince all my friends that had never heard of them (all) to give them a shot to no avail. It was the dog days of Ace Of Base, no one would listen.
So I went undergound. The rest of high school I followed the band through their music, and had a lofty dream of maybe one day seeing them play live. It was something that haunted me, I know I had to see them, the music meant so much to me.
College days were rough freshman year. I hated my first roommate, (a muppet) and secretly missed the security of home. I now had the internet at my fingertips, and one day found out about a mailing list called "congregation", run by avid Whigs fans. I signed up and couldn't believe the 40 or so emails daily that were sent to me by people who loved the band as much as I did. I worked 2 jobs and went to school to save up for the band's first live show in 2 years to be held Thanksgivng day, 1997. I had to tell my mom I wasn't coming home for Thanksgiving. My first year of college and I was skipping out on the fam to fly to the Big Easy for a rock concert. Oh yeah, and also meeting up with 40 or so internet fans that I had never met, oh yeah and sharing hotel rooms and booking itineraries with people that could have been ax murderers.
But I went. I flew alone, 18 years old and traveling without my parents for the first time. I was scared to death, but somehow managed to get a cab to the hotel and meet up with several other "Congos". The concert that evening was slated to start at 10pm. 15 of us went out for dinner and drinks, and assembled outside of the "Howlin Wolf" around 9:45pm.
I got in line with my friend from DC, Jackie, and we groaned when we saw how many people were ahead of us. After about 5 mins I overhear a bouncer telling some people that they have to be 21 to enter the club. This had been no where printed prior to that moment. Realizing that I had no ID and was 18 years old, I began to freak out. After the airfare and the hotel room, abandoning my family on Thanksgiving, I was going to get shut out for not being 21. I was going to die.
A split second later a previously locked door swings open and there stands a bouncer. He looks at me and Jackie and goes, "you can come in first, skip the line". We look at him and get out our tickets. Jackie who is 10 years older than me, goes first. The bouncer looks at her and says, "ID?". I collapse.
She hands him her ID and he waves her in. Then the bouncer takes my ticket and says to me "No ID necessary hon, and winks."
In amazement I entered the club. Its 10 by this time and the opening band is about to start. We take our positions (stage left all the way in the front) and get ready to enjoy the show.
In any case the show went about 5 hours long. I remember it being 2:30 am and the Whigs doing a third encore. I remember my feet about to explode. I remember getting invited backstage by the band and sharing a pint of Jack Daniels. I remember thinking that this was the most amazing night of my life. I remember the next day realizing that it had been.
So the years went by and I kept in touch with most of the friends I had made that weekend. We would randomly email, or attempt to meet up, or just hang out when Greg or The Whigs came to town. It was a warm community feeling with them. You could not see someone for 4 years and pick up right where you left off. We would meet up in Chicago, Atlanta, Philly, NOLA, and LA. We would bum rides and crash at apartments and pitch in for beers. It was a no brainer when they were in town, we would all hang for the show.
Which brings me to my point. (finnaly)
On October 16th, Greg Dulli's new music project "The Twilight Singers", are coming to Irving Plaza in NYC. I was IM'ing with a fellow congo alum yesterday who I originally met 5 years ago and is now married with a lovely son and another on the way. We realzed that we both may not go to the show because of work/family obligations. We realized we were "too old to rock". It was sad. I was sad. But its true. So my point? Dunno. I just want everyone to know that when its your time, make sure you rock the hell out of every minute.
LAUNDRY, & GALAGA
So last night I was a good girl. I went straight home from work and did dishes, took out the garbage, and prepared a few loads of laundry. Now another plus of my new Queens digs is that there is a laudrumat next door. I don't even need a laundry bag or anything, its like leaving my building and walking 2 steps.
I was very excitied to finnaly use this facility and my mind was bursting with all the possible love interests I would meet while doing a load of laundry. First off, when I walked in, I truly believe I was the only native English speaker (not that there's anything wrong with that), and there was no man in there over 5'3", which would not do. Secondly, I didn't realize that tuesday's and thursday's are free dryer nights so the place was hopping like downtown Dubai on market day. Just getting an open washer and not getting clipped by a 90 year old woman with a laundry cart was hard enough, forget finding love over the spin cycle.
After procuring a washer I ran immeadiatley back upstairs to my apartment and got my breath back. The scene downstairs was incredibly stessfull and annoying. After a half hour I went back down to cautiously move my clothes to a dryer. (remember, its free dryer tuesday)
I have not done anything this technically difficult in years. I was weaving in and out of people, balancing my wet clothes under one arm, while furiously gesturing with the other for people to "mooovvveeee" out of the way. At one point my right foot got caught on a wheel of a basket and I thought for sure I was going down, and definetly taking someone with me in the process. But out of chaos I had a split second of clairty. I saw an opening, and I took it. Finnaly, my assorted towels and sheets would be dry.
Ok, a half hour to kill and nothing to read and no one to flirt with. This was bad. I was too far in at this point to go back upstairs. I would never make it. Already the digital readout on my dryer was at 28 mins. Not enough time. Then I looked to my left. There was an old school arcade video game thing. I just thought it was Ms. Pacman, but after I put in my quarter, I realized it was actually GALAGA, my childhood alien shoot-em-up passion. I hadn't played Galactica since I was 10 years old. I remember weekends spent going through dollars worth of quarters just to beat the game record. From stage one.. I was hooked.
...28 mins later......
I am at 124830 points and stage 14. A crowd of onlookers has formed around me... I am on fire, en fuego, dynomite. I am aware of a nawing pain coming from my right wrist, but I have to ingore it. These people are cheering me on as I am playing the round of my life. It was like riding a bike. The hand eye co-ordination came right back as I blasted alien ship after alien ship, avoiding all teh maurading missle attacks and bonusing at every challenge stage.
At the apex of my performance I realized my clothes had to be dry, and that Galaga or no, I had to save them. I could hear several women fighting over my idle dryer and I knew their patience would run thin any minute.
So I threw the round. Got killed three times in a row, divebomed by alien drones one, two, three.
Did I get my clothes alright? Yeah
Were the onlookers dissapointed? A bit
Will I be back next week...hell yeah, tuesday free dryer night is the place to be.
I was very excitied to finnaly use this facility and my mind was bursting with all the possible love interests I would meet while doing a load of laundry. First off, when I walked in, I truly believe I was the only native English speaker (not that there's anything wrong with that), and there was no man in there over 5'3", which would not do. Secondly, I didn't realize that tuesday's and thursday's are free dryer nights so the place was hopping like downtown Dubai on market day. Just getting an open washer and not getting clipped by a 90 year old woman with a laundry cart was hard enough, forget finding love over the spin cycle.
After procuring a washer I ran immeadiatley back upstairs to my apartment and got my breath back. The scene downstairs was incredibly stessfull and annoying. After a half hour I went back down to cautiously move my clothes to a dryer. (remember, its free dryer tuesday)
I have not done anything this technically difficult in years. I was weaving in and out of people, balancing my wet clothes under one arm, while furiously gesturing with the other for people to "mooovvveeee" out of the way. At one point my right foot got caught on a wheel of a basket and I thought for sure I was going down, and definetly taking someone with me in the process. But out of chaos I had a split second of clairty. I saw an opening, and I took it. Finnaly, my assorted towels and sheets would be dry.
Ok, a half hour to kill and nothing to read and no one to flirt with. This was bad. I was too far in at this point to go back upstairs. I would never make it. Already the digital readout on my dryer was at 28 mins. Not enough time. Then I looked to my left. There was an old school arcade video game thing. I just thought it was Ms. Pacman, but after I put in my quarter, I realized it was actually GALAGA, my childhood alien shoot-em-up passion. I hadn't played Galactica since I was 10 years old. I remember weekends spent going through dollars worth of quarters just to beat the game record. From stage one.. I was hooked.
...28 mins later......
I am at 124830 points and stage 14. A crowd of onlookers has formed around me... I am on fire, en fuego, dynomite. I am aware of a nawing pain coming from my right wrist, but I have to ingore it. These people are cheering me on as I am playing the round of my life. It was like riding a bike. The hand eye co-ordination came right back as I blasted alien ship after alien ship, avoiding all teh maurading missle attacks and bonusing at every challenge stage.
At the apex of my performance I realized my clothes had to be dry, and that Galaga or no, I had to save them. I could hear several women fighting over my idle dryer and I knew their patience would run thin any minute.
So I threw the round. Got killed three times in a row, divebomed by alien drones one, two, three.
Did I get my clothes alright? Yeah
Were the onlookers dissapointed? A bit
Will I be back next week...hell yeah, tuesday free dryer night is the place to be.
HUCKABEE'S! & FIRTH
love going to the movies. I love it so much I even enjoy going alone. I can see three movies in a day in same theatre and not feel like I've wasted an afternoon. In any case, I havent been in awhile, and I was jonsen' for a good flick.
Angelly, a good friend and ex roommate gets discounted tix from work, so last night we decided to see I Heart Huckabee's after work.
if you love discussing the space time continuoum, and things like "string theory", you'll love this movie. A few people walked out but Angelly and I thought it was greeaaaat!
But, my star sightings keep coming. I was about a half block from the AMC 25 theatre in times square when I ran into a tall man by and he almost knocked me over. It was Colin Firth. He is very tall in real life, very attractive, but amazingly, sooooo skinny. And he looks average on film. Hollywood is so scary when it comes to weight. Even the male actors look like anorexics. (see my Ethan Hawke comments from "...Famke Jansen's B-Day), yuk.
Angelly, a good friend and ex roommate gets discounted tix from work, so last night we decided to see I Heart Huckabee's after work.
if you love discussing the space time continuoum, and things like "string theory", you'll love this movie. A few people walked out but Angelly and I thought it was greeaaaat!
But, my star sightings keep coming. I was about a half block from the AMC 25 theatre in times square when I ran into a tall man by and he almost knocked me over. It was Colin Firth. He is very tall in real life, very attractive, but amazingly, sooooo skinny. And he looks average on film. Hollywood is so scary when it comes to weight. Even the male actors look like anorexics. (see my Ethan Hawke comments from "...Famke Jansen's B-Day), yuk.
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