Wednesday, November 15, 2006

I Can Be Your First Degree

Last night I saw the Ed Harris play, "Wrecks", at the Public. Written and directed by our one and only woman hating misogynist would-have-blown-Strindberg-out-of-the-water Neil Labute. The play was fun mostly because Ed Harris was sitting there talking on stage for an hour and the man could make long division look captivating on stage.

Anyhooo....the best part of the eveing has a little back story to it. On Sun I went to go pick up my "Wrecks" ticket when I saw "Durango". When I went to pick up my ticket they said "Oh no...your friend put you down for Sunday (meaning that day) not Tuesday." WELL when Heidi found out about this she gave em hell. So much hell in fact, that this box office girl sat me next to a very special someone:

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Kevin Bacon.

The ironic part of the whole thing was this was not the first time Mr. Bacon and I were close. About two years ago he came into a store I was working at on the UWS and had me fit him for a pack for his son who was about to backpack Europe. Yes I touched his body. In case you were wondering.

Anyway, now, the next time you play "Six Degrees Of Kevin Bacon"...you know because people actually do that post 1990...you can say "My friend Faetra sat next to Kevin Bacon at a play at the Public called Wrecks."

Monday, November 13, 2006

The Series of Unfortunate Events of November 13th

These are the bad things that happened to me today.

My uncle died. I don't even really know what to say about this right now. I still haven't cried. I still haven't let it sink.

My phone officially broke. My screen appears to be speaking in some kind of satanic tongue and I need to talk to my friends more than anything right now.

The bottoms of my jeans are wet and torn from walking in the rain.

I ran out of green tea.

My bank ran out of the temporary access cards I needed to access all of my money since losing my debit card over the weekend. The new one won't come in the mail until Tuesday.

I want a hug and the apartment is empty.

Pearl Harbor has nothing on the infamy of today.

David Ives and Death

This afternoon I am sitting at my desk processing an application for a theatre company to perform a series of David Ives plays when a call gets patched through to my desk. It's my Dad. He sounds like he's been crying.

"I have bad news"

And I just know. The only question is who. Not my brother, please not my brother... was all I kept thinking.

It was my uncle. He died this morning.

And then I get deja vu. Back in August I was sitting at my desk processing an application for a series of David Ives plays when Heidi got patched through and told me that Larry had died.

For now on I will extra cautious when processing requests to do David Ives plays.

That's all I have right now.

Chair Kickers and Groaners

Today I went to the Public to catch an afternoon performance of the new Julia Cho play "Durango".

And this guy sitting behind me kept kicking my motha f-ing chair. The whole frackin' show long. You would think after the first ten times it happened he would have realized his supercilious legs didn't fit in front of him. But no kick kick kick he went. I mean it's not everyday you get to see an Asian American verison of "Death of a Salesman".

Then it turned out he was a groaner. Now you all know what I mean by groaner. Fordham was loaded with them. It's either a groan or the occasional "huh" . You'll find a few of them in every play you see. Something really great will be said on stage and they as an audience member feel the obligation to let everyone around them know they were affected by verbally responding.

Not the thing to do to me after a night of gin, most of which was still alive and kicking in my blood stream.

Friday, November 10, 2006

Bye bye Rummie bye bye bye...

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That's right folks. Democratic controlled congress. Forcing Bush to make the world a safer place, one failure at a time.

Even if they still have no platform.

This is what I propose: VOTE DEMOCRAT IN '08 BECAUSE WE'RE....NOT REPUBLICANS.

But for now, I will be happy.

Monday, October 30, 2006

Randomosity AKA My Job Sometimes Makes Me Want To Die.

Kate and I drank about six bellinis each on Sunday at brunch. Followed by half a bottle of wine. Every Sunday should be so good.

Thursday, October 26, 2006

For Mistakes I Made

Ok so I'm normally not a fan of the "write the lyrics to a song" blog. I just don't think it translates well. However, I rediscovered a song tonight. It's called "Mistakes I Made" by Fran Lucci. I don't really know the artist that well, but somehow this song made its way into my high school CD collection. Back then, these lyrics meant little to me. It was just a sweet song. But listening to it tonight, I just don't think anything I could say about my life could be as exact as this song. It's strange how time changes perspective. So, here goes.

It really is a miracle that I have come this far.
Without a hope, without a prayer, without a guiding star.
In spite of my naivete and many dreams betrayed,
I know I would not be here now,
But for mistakes I made.

But for mistakes I made.
Who know who I might be.
Some other heart, some other soul, some other destiny.
But for the times I took a wrong turn unafraid.
I might have missed it all.
But for mistakes I made.

So many times I tried to change things out of my control.
The jealousy and all the rage that swallowed me up whole.
The years that I spent loving those who did not feel the same.
The times I didn't trust myself with only me to blame.

But for mistakes I made.
Who knows where I might be.
Some other place, some other time, some other destiny.
But for the times I took a wrong turn unafraid.
I might have missed it all,
But for mistakes I made.

These things have taught me what is real.
How to laugh, how to cry, how to love... without regret.
And when to say hello.
And goodbye.

I know whatever comes my way my dues have all been paid.
But you would not be in my life.
But for mistakes I made.

But for mistakes I made.
Who knows who I might be.
Some other heart, some other soul, some other destiny.
But for the times I took a wrong turn afraid.
I might have missed it all,
But for mistakes I made.

I might have missed it all.
But for mistakes I made.

Tuesday, October 24, 2006

Crazy Scientologist Tuesday

Uh...yeah...of course

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Dharma couldn't take the heat:

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Sure...

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Ok well everyone knew you were a crazypants:

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Let's just get one more of Tom:

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NOW L. RON HUBBARD HAS GONE TOO FAR:

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Why, Danny, why?

Monday, October 23, 2006

Elevator Antics Lead To Conspiracy

I don't like elevators. They make me nauseous. The technology and reliability of them seems a little sketchy. Maybe it was when I was forced on "Tower of Terror" at MGM Studios that the fear really began. Or maybe it's purely developmental. Either way, there's not a moving object I like being transported in less than an elevator.

This past week at work my opposition to elevators took an interesting twist. This is what happened. Last Thursday I got on the elevator at floor 11 going down to the street. We stopped on floor seven. A man got on, clearly crazy. The following exchange occurred:

Man: Hey Sparky!
Faetra: What?
Man: You're dressed for snow!

(Faetra looks down at her skirt and t-shirt, trying to tactfully question the man's sanity)

Faetra: What?
Man: I like your shoes!
Faetra: Um...thank you...
Man: I'm wearing slipper to work today!

(Faetra looks down to find the man is actually wearing slippers to work. The elevator stops on the ground floor. They get off in silence)

Yeah, I know. Crazy. THEN ON FRIDAY:

Faetra gets on the elevator at the ground floor. A meek nondescript delivery man gets on the elevator with her. He presses floor 9. She presses floor 11. They ride the elevator up in silence. It stops on the 9th floor. The doors open

Man: You have very lovely feet.

The man exits the elevator. End scene

Everything comes in threes. What will happen this week? And is the fact that all of these creepy incidents are occurring in elevators a coincidence? Or is it some kind of conspiracy?

Only time will tell.

My job is so boring.

Monday Public Service Announcement

Dolphins are the only species other than human beings who are capable of the act of rape. It turns out that dolphins emit a kind of hormone and use certain behavior tactics to denote if sex is consensual. This is not uncommon among animals. The difference is that dolphins will frequently disregard "no means no" signals. Male dolphins rape frequently.

Take a good look at this face:

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Consider yourself warned.

Thursday, October 19, 2006

A Morning In The Life

9:00 AM: I stumble out of bed. Every fifteen minutes for the past hour and a half or so, I have hit the snooze button. Setting my alarm for 7:30 AM has proved to be nothing but complete folly. Do I need to brush my hair before work? No... Do I need to make lunch or can I just run to the deli again? Run to the deli... Do I need to have the delectable Oren's coffee all the way on 3rd Ave or can I just pop into the Starbucks downstairs? Pop into the Starbucks downstairs... This is my inner monologue as a lay in bed. Potter meows for his food. Alas, the day must begin

9:40 AM: Waiting for the train. The most interesting part of my day is waiting to see which train will come first, the R or the V. "I need a new job," I decide. The R is great and quick- the V is my mortal enemy. I can generally predict the mood of the day depending on which train comes first. This week has been all Vs. Which means three things to my morning commute: A) One extra stop before the 6 transfer B) The incredibly long escalator taking me from the E/V line to the 6 at 53rd street. Seriously, how far underground is this train? Think the distance from hell to heaven. Yeah, that's about accurate. C)That weird smell in the passage way right before the second escalator to the 6 train. Seriously, what is that smell and why is it always there? Yep, it's going to be a V train kind of morning.

10:15 AM: I stumble into work. I sit down. The dread of a mediocre existence sets in."I really need a new job," I tell myself

10:17 AM: I crack open my Arizona energy drink. Bill went on an experimental "Red Bull Alternative" buying phase on Saturday and I am right along with him. This is far better than the green tea energy experiment from yesterday, but still tastes like sugary balls liquefied. Mmmmm....

10:19 AM: I begin to tell Joel, Dana, and Sandra about the harrowing experience of Little Children last night. This is what I took from it:
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I wanted to put a shot of just his perfect ass but this will have to do as I am afraid of googling what could be discovered as pornography on my work PC. Also, Kate Winslet while stunningly beautiful and a fantastic actress as very strange looking breasts. It's an aureole thing I think. I don't know. God doesn't give you everything.

10:20: I explain that the situation of Kate Winslet's aureoles and Patrick Wilson's ass was not all I took from the film. It was well done, and just like In the Bedroom gives you a choked up feeling never really resulting in a cathartic release because you're so worried about who's gonna be the one die. Instead, you leave the movie feeling despair. Over what you ask? Everything. Life, love, marriage, sex, children, puppies, playgrounds...it's all tragic. Nothing is safe.

10:30: I call a friend of my father's who works for "Law and Order" who wants to give me a job. He gets my cell number and we will talk about this later. "Am I really going to quit my job?" I ask myself.

11:15 AM: Turns out that Arizona energy drinks don't stop giving. Energy, yes. But also a taste in your mouth akin to drinking a bottle of bad champagne. Without the pleasant drunken side effect.

11:30: I realize I've been drinking a lot lately
11:31: And going through this bizarre yogurt covered pretzel phase.

12PM: Kate and I chat on myspace. She hates her job too.

1PM: I hate my job even more now.

2PM: Cigarette break.

Wednesday, October 18, 2006

Sunday Night

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For those who have never experienced the fabulousness of PIT, it is a stock trade version of "Go Fish". It comes with a bell, which upon victory you are allowed to furiously ring. The goal is to get all of the same natural resource.

It's great. And I own it.

So on Sunday night, Maura and will be organizing a long overdue PIT night at my place. Beer will be provided, as will pasta, bread, and salad.

Just as a warning for anyone that has never played games with me before. I'm an Aries. I play to win. It's nothing personal.

But seriously it's fun! Come over!

All I Want For Xmas Is...

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A magical elephant like the one in Trafalgar Square.

Tuesday, October 17, 2006

The Queen Would Never Eat That Many Cookies

Yesterday I had to go to a memorial service for a good friend of mine that died a year ago. I can't believe a year has passed. I can't believe how much has changed over the course of one year. I can't believe how one year could have honestly been so shitty.

What was even stranger was going back and seeing some people I haven't seen since this time last year, and watching the way they mourn. Or rather, how they expect other people to mourn. I honestly found myself standing there, unable to muster up the smallest amount of emotion, saying to myself just cry, just cry, just cry . Why is that? Because I felt I was being judged based on my need to move on past the whole thing.

They also kept referring to his suicide as a "tragic accident". I wanted to just stand up and scream, "It wasn't an accident! He chose it!". I don't know, maybe I'm the one out of line here. Maybe I don't understand things the way I thought I did. It may be cold, but my perspective on this situation has changed from what it was last year. I love him. I miss him. I cry sometimes. Like when I think I see him on the train. But we have to say goodbye. We don't need a memorial every year to remind us that he was once a part of our lives. Just like I don't need to be best friends with every person that's ever touched me in my life, I don't need to spend every waking moment carrying this "tragic accident" around on my sleeve. Nor should I be expected to on this fucking guilt trip his family likes to put everyone through. You show me where it's written in a law that I have to grieve in a certain way, and by all means I'll try and follow it.

Anyway, after this short, very warped memorial we all gathered for coffee and cake and such. I felt so awkward. And it just so happened I was standing next to a giant plate of cookies. And it just so happened that instead of making awkward conversation with one of his family members, I decided to systematically eat an entire plate of cookies. Yep, that's right...I'd say like fifteen total. I hadn't eaten anything all morning because I was so nervous. I was terrified I was going to have some sort of breakdown of Scarlet O'Hara like proportions. Instead, when I felt nothing, I decided it was time that I eat an entire plate of cookies. No one noticed thank god, but I had to laugh thinking that if Scott had been there, he would have been the one standing in the corner with me eating all the cookies.

And suddenly at moments like that everything is OK. Mostly because there's cookies. But also because the world moves- and when we get over all of our selfish dramatic shit- we realize how easily we can move with it. I had a situation last week involving a good friend of mine where I realized how easily we can choose to feel angry or selfish instead of being a big person. True to my impulsive nature, I of course chose to go with the angry/selfish side because freighting enough, this is the automatic place I go when I feel uncomfortable. I push being mature away because it's just easier that way. It's my mother in me, I guess. But I don't want to be that person. I'm trying not to be. I'm sick of thinking that my first priority must always be to protect myself. From what? That's the thing...I don't know. People suck and they hurt people. I've sucked and I've hurt people. And I probably will again. It just happens. You cry about it, you learn a lesson, and then you move on. When I got into a fight with a friend of mine recently I said something to the effect of, "It seems like you just have a lot to figure out about yourself and the way you want to be" And he responded saying, "So does everyone else. We're always going to have stuff to figure out". Well here's to figuring it out, little by little. And here's to forgiveness.

I think I finally forgave Scott yesterday. I don't know if he needed it, but I needed to give it to him. And it continues to surprise me how easy it is to love people as opposed to hating them.

So there's my sappy self-realization for this week. Next week...I tackle the problem of evil and global warming.

When in doubt, cookies always help.

The Queen

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On Sunday night Maura and I saw the The Queen over at Lincoln Plaza Cinemas. Wow, what a great movie. Totally not what I was expecting. From the trailer, I got the impression it was A) going to be more about Princess Diana and her relationship with the royal family or B) going to be a ripping apart of the monarchy. Not the case. The film instead seemed to focus on a examining the important question of tradition vs. modernity. It seemed like this was an examination of one of the last generation gap struggles we might have for awhile. Coming from a completely different governmental system, it is difficult to comprehend what was at stake for the royal family during the time of Princess Diana's death. It's crazy that in simply flying a flag at half mast, the Queen transcended hundreds of years of tradition. What a call to make.

What's also crazy is seeing, again, first hand what an icon Princess Di was for the people of England. I don't think since JFK has our country had an icon like that. Our generation, certainly not. Why is that? Is it because of our media's tendency to expose anyone coming close to iconic status's every single flaw? Or is it because no one wants that pressure? Who knows.

One of the greatest parts of the film was at the very end when Tony Blair comes back to the royal palace to have his first post-Princess Di crisis meeting with the Queen and she says to him something to the effect of, "You'd be surprised how quickly the public can turn on you...and the time will come when this will happen to you, Mr. Blair." It's funny how quickly things can change. Blair was going to be England's hero- the one to outrun the stifling presence of the monarchy, the modern man, the good every day kind of guy...cut to now, only ten years later and a majority of the London population does not support him or his actions in dealing with the situation in Iraq. It is surprising how quickly the public can turn. What's even more surprising is how quickly values can be compromised.

Anyway, that's enough of the Queen. Go see it if you have a chance. Helen Mirren will hopefully come off with at least an Oscar nod. She's chilling. And a dame to boot.

Sunday, October 1, 2006

And Let the Top 10 Best Episodes of South Park Play On...

So, here is that blog...

Some randomness. I had a sex dream about Leonardo DiCaprio last night. Weird. I never was a big fan of his, honestly. I only saw Titanic like three times!

I better news I wasted thirty minutes of my life yesterday in the supermarket reading what appeared to be the last "Baby Suri" Vanity Fair article about just how creepy TomKat is. I can't wait for them to make their creepy lives into a feature film in twenty years which ends with Katie Holmes either turning into Princess Diana or Joan Rivers.

And speaking of Princess Diana there is a movie coming out about her number one fan...that's right...none other than the queen herself. It looks spectacular. So did ever other trailer before Science of Sleep. It's going to be a busy winter. Lots of movies...may try to make it over to London to see Patrick Swayze in Guys and Dolls. No, that's not a joke...Patrick Swayze is still alive, and someone thought this would be a wise choice for him. Maybe after this London will stop stealing all our actors.

That's it.

I don't think I can talk about my life right now. I mean what is my life in comparison with Baby Suri's, really....

A Promise

My blog is in a sad sad state right now. Now I know it must seem, due to my complete lack of blogdom the past couple of months, that maybe I've moved on from my internet blogging obsession. Maybe I've gotten a life. Maybe I'm actually pleased with the state of affairs. Maybe my life is finally complete artistically, romantically, spiritually, grammatically...that I no longer find meaning in blogging.

Oh quite the contrary.

I'm just that lazy. It's not that I haven't tried.

But now I promise.

TONIGHT, in celebration of Yom Kippur instead of fasting I will REALLY BLOG. No seriously. Wait for it.

Friday, September 8, 2006

The Thing About Here

There is a reason why people constantly say "Only in New York...." You can really follow that ellipsis up with just about anything and it wouldn't shock most people familiar with this city's erm...quirkiness? Take, for example, the following scene that occurred on my subway ride down to the Cherry Lane last night.

Scene: Downtown 1 Train

Three obnoxiously drunk twenty-something guys are yelling on the train

Guy 1: Hahahahah! Look I can hang from the pole! Look everyone's staring at us!
Guy 2: That's because we're so loud!
Guy 1: Hey man, we're from Scarsdale. We have MONEY. Look at this! I'm rich!
Guy 2 : See, she thinks we're ok!
He points to a random woman who clearly does not think he's "ok"
Guy 1: Hey man, my balls are HUGE!
Guy 2: I want to sing! Let's sing RIGHT NOW!

They begin to drunkenly sing something indecipherable. Their obnoxious yelling/singing carries on through about four stops on the train.

Conductor: This is 23rd street.
Guy 2: This is our stop!
Guy 1: I bet you everyone is glad we're getting off the train! Ha ha ha!
Guy 2: GOOD-BYE EVERYONE!

They exit

Bookish older man: WASPS gone wild.

People around him chuckle

Man: You like that huh? WASPS gone wild. That would be a good title for a book right? WASPS gone wild...yeah...you like that?
(points to a young girl who ignores him)
Yeah...that's a good one. WASPS gone wild!
(begins laughing maniacally until he sees a woman at the other side of the train who is writing in her journal)
ARE YOU WRITING DOWN MY TITLE! DO YOU LIKE THAT?! DON'T STEAL MY FUCKING TITLE! BITCH WHORE!

End Scene

The thing about living here is that appearances mean absolutely nothing. Everyone is crazy. We all will one day be trying to eat our own face on the subway crying for salvation and quarters. So get out while you still can.

Thursday, August 31, 2006

Mother Meryl

Go see Mother Courage and Her Children. Tis a great show.

I think there's nothing Meryl Streep can't do. I'm convinced she is the messiah- she's just biding her time waiting for the most opportune moment to reveal her true heavenly powers.

I had to pee super duper badly between acts one and two but the line was SO long. I held it in instead and by the time the yellow cab dropped me off in Queens I was in physical pain.

I bet you Meryl Streep could hold her pee in for years.

Monday, August 28, 2006

At The End Of The Summer We Move...Somewhere...

I haven't updated this blog in ages, and yet, I still don't feel I have anything worthy to say. Ah remember the days where I could write full sentences...paragraphs even? Remember the days when I actually had the time to read the Times every morning?

Maybe I'm lying to myself and I'm not lacking time. I'm lacking focus. I'm convinced something happens between twenty-two and twenty-five where that which was clear becomes blurry, that which was blurry becomes...more blurry. Exactly. That's what my life is right now- a whole lotta blurry. Other than the "great learning experience of a first production" here's exactly what I've done this summer:

A)Stopped watering the bamboo. Survival of the fittest when it comes to botany in Astoria.
B)Grown to hate my job
C)Learned how to sleep without power in 100 plus degree weather
D)Put tinfoil in the microwave on only one occasion which is some sort of great accomplishment for me
E)I threw out my favorite flip flops because they fell apart.
F) I haven't had ANY bubble tea after the intense overload that happened last summer
G)I bought new boots. I'm wearing them right now. They make me feel powerful.
H)Ended what was turning into a great relationship
I) Ended what was turning into a not so great friendship
J) Am trying to end the feelings I seem to get for all the wrong people at all the wrong times under all the wrong circumstances.
K) Of course I'm continuing to fail admirably at point J
L) Got offered heroin on a first date.
M)Developed a love affair with Foer.

This is depressing. I only made it up to M.

Here's my random thoughts right now: I don't like feeling out of control. I don't like feeling trapped, I don't like feeling like no matter what I do, it will in no way alter the universe. Remember when you were little and you thought you could move mountains. Like at the end of the Dr. Suess book "Oh The Places You Will Go". The last line in that book is KID YOU'LL MOVE MOUNTAINS. All lies, folks. I can't even bring myself to move the coffee table and rearrange the living room. So is this a slump? Maybe it's just the summer. How productive can you really be in the heat?

Monday, July 31, 2006

I Did It For The Food Stamps Baby

Leah has informed me there is a rather gracious gentleman on her block who propositions every woman who walks by with the following line:
"Hey honey..wanna get married? I got food stamps!"

Prospects are bleak. Groceries are expensive.

And life is just generally kicking the shit out of me lately. I don't need to be happy, a handle on things is all I'm asking for. Or maybe for the trains to run in a way that would possibly serve their function as the city's mode of transportation. I cursed someone off on the street on Saturday. It was a hundred fucking degrees, I was tired, the trains weren't running. And then this guy comes up to me and
literally smiles at me and I respond with the following words: "Fuck off! I'm not interested I don't care what it is I'M NOT INTERESTED!"

Seriously guys why am I single? What am I doing wrong?

I'm one step away from Meg Ryan in When Harry Met Sally and she's weeping screaming "I'm difficult!". Hopefully my hair won't look like such a disaster when this happens.

But whatever. It's fine. I'm single. I accepted a date from a man wearing a Star Trek t-shirt. It builds character.