I need to call Hollywood. 09/18/2009
Someone is making one of my all-time fave books,Eat Pray Love, (for those of you who habla espanol: Comer Rezar Amor), into a movie starring Julia Roberts, and I want to talk about it. I’m simultaneously excited and freaked out, because it gave me flashbacks to The DaVinci Code Fiasco of turning a very successful book into a movie starring someone who is distractingly famous. It’s not like Robert Langdon experienced the kind of extreme emotional changes and personal struggles and victories that Liz went through – though Symbology is exciting as well.  I feel like Julia Roberts is WAY too graceful to play the awkward and anxious Liz Gilbert during her year of pasta-eating self-discovery. My BFF Jenna gave me this book for my birthday a few years ago, before the hype and just before I was go to backpacking in Europe by myself and then moving to New York City. It was perfect for where I was at emotionally, and all nine times I’ve read it since then I’ve been in different places geographically, emotionally, mentally, socio-economically, etc. and it seems new each time. Let’s play a little game I like to call Casting Director. I think that Toni Collette would be an awesome Liz.  But what’s even more amazing, is that they’ve cast Javier Bardem as Felipe, her brazilian lover-turned-husband that she now lives with in Elizabeth, New Jersey. Other huge names in it are Billy Crudup as her ex-husband and James Franco as her angsty, skinny-jeans wearing post-divorce rebound. What? Of course I’m going to see it, because I’m curious about how they’re going to show all of the feelings slash emotions that lace the pages of EPL (for you texters out there, that’s the code to use when hollering “hey fellas, let’s see EPL after the game! ttyl” – something like that.) I just hope it’s not too psychedelic or Rainman-ish. There’s a five person special effects crew, which I hope is there for the “two cool blue souls” part on the rooftop of the ashram in India when she comes to grips with her divorce after reading Richard’s poem, because that was one of my faves. To be continued in 2011… at about midnight on opening night. growing up brister 08/24/2009
I had to practice on boulders before I could move mountains. feats of strength: the formative years  I think I'm 2 years old (?!) when my mom (Nance) took this, at Lummi Island in the San Juans. wearing signature purple-on-blue. amazing. my g-rents have a cabin there, and one summer a walrus washed up on shore with a bullet wound in it. other than that, it was always very serene and fun to light off illegal fireworks we bought on the reservation (please see below: "people who get it"). I think what I'm really looking for here are the starfish that year after year I harvest, along with my siblings and cousins, from under these huge rocks. Yeah it's messed up now looking back on it, but when you're small and there's a star shaped creature that clings to rocks and has a beak, you must harvest as many as possible and dry them out on the rocks as souvenirs. that's the way loves goes (janet jackson). every summer my extended family climbs up on this boulder and has a photoshoot, and it's fascinating to actually track annual progression in my unfashionable but confident childhood (looney tunes and winnie-the-pooh being a common theme in my wardrobe for all of my formative years. I'm a better person for it though, it could be much worse. I could have been forced to wear something with rhinestones that was designed by some clown like hannah montana). either way, I loved that my mom let me wear tutu's and leotards on a daily basis. if they want, my future children won't have a closet, they'll have a costume trunk. slopedog millionaire 08/11/2009
it only took 2 and a half years, but I am now living in my dream neighborhood. No I'm not talking about Mumbai. I'm talking about PARK SLOPE, Crooklyn. The only way I can describe it to people is by referencing the Cosby show, the neighborhood that the Huckstables lived in. Majestic brownstones, trees lining every block, rogue strollers and dogs galore, it's perfect. I am obsessed with Roots coffee that my bf's amigo Jamey owns, and if you are in the hood go to it - it's on 5th avenue and 18th street. go there, he is the coolest and the food is amazing and southern and the furniture is stuffed and comfortable. I love how now I am treating my weird, sporadically updated website like a place to review places I love. But if I had my own talk show, I'd do an episode on Roots Cafe. And Jamey's wife Randi would be on and talk about fun stuff, and then Jamey would play "river's edge," a beautiful song my boyfriend and i slow dance to, though it's maybe not meant to be slow danced to. Either way, I love to slow dance with Brendan Fitzgibbons. And now it's in writing. Two winters ago I lived on the "scary" side, in a studio apartment on prospect park east (what whaaat!) where 1 of the 9 locks still worked and hadn't been kicked in, and where the street scenes of Dangerous Minds were filmed. I'm kidding. But getting here was not easy, and finding my fantasy apartment was anything but that - meeting the most SKETCH-TASTIC individuals that of course would only advertise on craigslist. i love craigslist, but his list is full of creepies. i think that the two species slash cultures that REALLY get what life is supposed to be like on earth are native americans (aka american indians, or if you're the racist Governor ratcliffe in Pocahontas, "savages") and the mid-day-napping, drinking-prosecco-like-its-water, ravioli-eating people of italy. this seems like a sesh on stereotypes, but it's not that at all.  plus, sleeping outside in a tent is a blast. salmon bakes, bonfires and dance parties. count me in. i wish that i could've seen what america and it's native people looked like in the hey-day before john smith and co. came over and jacked things up.  this is the co-owner of monte's italian restaurant in the village (in the picture with me, after an intense night with jacki and tortelloni al pesto and tubs of gelato) - the place is godfather-fab, and amazing - but i believe italians get it. most important, is that they close up shop mid-day TO GO TAKE A NAP. why is this not a universal social norm? italians drive around on MOPEDS! genius! i would gladly trade in the 6 train (starring in the newly released horror movie "the taking of pelham 123," which is scary because I COMMUTE ON THAT DAILY. thanks a lot, hollywood d.bags). the language is beautiful, and even things like "no thanks, i'm allergic to fish" come off sounding like a love confession. also, raviolis and basically all kinds of pasta are delicious, and if i could have an IV of some sweet italian vino attached to my forearm, that'd be amazing. (photo taken by jacki, just before the gelato-and-cannoli massacre)  is what one of the books that i impulse-bought at La Guardia said, which is poignant about the first 3 hours of my weekend life in portland, maine. and THAT'S a freaky consequence if the low rumble of the R train lulls you into submission.  i submitted this one (there's bonus points for asians!). but check out the archives on this site, they update it all the time so you can literally watch people sleeping on the subway in very-close-to real time. http://asleeponthesubway.tumblr.com/post/74651944/this-picture-is-the-stuff-dreams-are-made-on physics vs. the elderly 02/01/2009
the laws of physics are unforgiving, and offer no grace period to the elderly bus passenger who needs to make it from the metro-card swiper to one of the front seats before the bus begins moving. it's a death match between arthritis and inertia, and its terrifying.  i started commuting on the bus a lot, and watching bus physics versus the elderly passenger is like watching a trainwreck in slow motion over and over again. it's the most consistent thing i see on the bus, besides there always being some titanic-era lady in a fur coat. this world is awfully big...  If walking around a big city on your morning commute in a beret and tossing it just before clocking in isn't your idea of "making it," then I don't know what is. 
if life was at all fair i'd live in the announcer's box at portland meadows, down in the stables or by the winner's circle, whichev. this was the height of the addiction, race 6 this is at the finish line, where two horses that i was told to bet on to come in 1st and 2nd actually CAME IN 1st and 2nd, which is the emotional equivalent of having christmas morning and fourth of july night all at once. The winners are: One Quick Brew on the left, and Stealth Attack on the right. Those names remind me of starbucks and pearl harbor, respectively. i've been having a Lost season 3 marathon in my bed, trying to get caught up to watch them in real time. so of course echo and locke and sayid (hot) are the leading men of my nightmares once again. |