Sunday, June 28, 2009

Erm... So, I Guess this is Now the Blog of I Hate Twilight

I was at the mall today, performing scenes in the kiddie section of Barnes & Noble (stardom!), and so of course I had to do a little mall wandering afterwords.

And everywhere I frickin' went were posters of frickin' Robert Pattinson giving me the creep eye.*

There was the old classic:


This questionable sequel:


And the solo version:


I am really, really skeeved out by this guy. It's as though they did market research in order to find the only actor on earth who could make me more grossed out by Edward than I already was. As though they sent each other memos like "Yeah, he's good, but will the mere sight of him make Kitty Pimms feel like she needs to take a decontamination shower? Let's get the kid who never washes his hair in to read again..."

Watching him lurk behind his co-presenter at the Oscars, eyes firmly fixed on her cleavage, I wrote to a friend: "Robert Pattinson is still playing that stupid vampire! Why’s he gotta leer at every body? Get a new facial expression, Edward!"

I mean really:


God. I say it again. Get a new expression!



Eeeew. On second thought, just keep your face out of my sight altogether.



Just...

Just...

I give up.


*And he just did it again, because I went googling for pictures to illustrate my point

Sunday Poem

Spontaneous Internet Haiku

chime diminishes
grayly, meadow dwindles, pear
agonizes, free


Make your own with The Genuine Haiku Generator.

Thursday, June 25, 2009

I Have Not Words...

...to describe how awesome this is:



I'll just quote Jezebel's intro, because seriously. I have not words.
"In this brilliantly edited clip by Rebellious Pixels, Edward shows up at Sunnydale High and tries to put the moves on Buffy Summers, who sees right through his sparkly bs, shutting him down at every opportunity"


Some highlights:*

In the cafeteria part, there is a brief glimpse of Alice (from Twilight) and she totally has the same hair as Willow. It's fitting since Alice is the only Twilight character I mildly approve of.

The use of one of my all-time favorite Buffy quotes: "What are you doing? Here? At this table, talking to me, like we're some kind of talking buddies?" Oh, the many times have I wanted to say that (substituting "table" for "any place I go in my life").

The "Are you sure this isn't some fanboy thing?" line from "Buffy vs. Dracula": especially great because, had that episode happened within the last year or so, she totally would have said "Edward" instead of "Lestat"

And that reminds me: Some one in an A.V. Club discussion of the latest episode of True Blood** pointed out how the now-classic "brooding dark haired vampire+fun blonde vampire=good homoerotic times" was clearly at work, and attributed that convention to Buffy (Angle/Spike). Had I not been a good five days late to the discussion (having just totally legally watched that episode online), I would have had to point out in the most pompous manner possible that Angel and Spike are so obviously ripped off from Louis and Lestat... something that used to bug the crap out of me when Buffy first aired.

Aaaaaaand I'm going to just stop right there, because this may be the nerdiest post I've ever written. Which is an achievement.

*Perhaps the only downside is that I could identify which episode almost every one of those Buffy clips was from.

**Which was also pretty great... the vampires are really hitting it out of the park this week. UPDATE: The trend continues at Go Fug Yourself, where they say of Kristen Bell's outfit "That is saucy. I feel like this might be the uniform they put the waitresses in over at Twilight McLestat's Vampire Bar and Grille" and of Eva Green's "BLAAAAAAH. This woman is not particularly interested in draining the blood of the innocent, or interrupting the sleep of the just, or disturbing the dinner of the holy, or stealing the mail of the virgins, or trimming the bangs of the uptight, or anything even REMOTELY sexy and vampiric. And ergo, I have no use for her."

Monday, June 22, 2009

Lundi je ne fait rein

Here's what I've learned about HPV from the constant ads on Hulu, the ones with the jaunty French song:

1. Condoms don't always protect you from it

2. Practically everyone has it

3. You can have it and not know it

4. You can get it without having sex

5. Basically, you and everyone you know has it and you're all going to die.

6. Friday is for you!

Last week, when I was watching Arrested Development, it was all "Remember when men were men, and they drank real vodka?" ads, and not a lady-related product in sight.

This week, I'm watching Buffy, which Hulu seems to thinks appeals to both the boys and the girls.

In addition to being told I have HPV and encouraged to use Dove products, I've also been invited to play a video game that represents "a generational leap in open world destruction" (yay?) and seems to be all about blowing up buildings for no reason. There have also been several ads for the Ghostbuster's video game, and I think my dreams will be haunted by the game version of Dan Ackroyd. And now that 30 Rock has popularized the term "uncanny valley," I can articulate why without sounding like a big nerd.

Sunday, June 21, 2009

Sunday Poem

For Dad


Danse Russe
William Carlos Williams

If when my wife is sleeping
and the baby and Kathleen
are sleeping
and the sun is a flame-white disc
in silken mists
above shining trees,-
if I in my north room
dance naked, grotesquely
before my mirror
waving my shirt round my head
and singing softly to myself:
"I am lonely, lonely,
I was born to be lonely,
I am best so!"
If I admire my arms, my face,
my shoulders, flanks, buttocks
against the yellow drawn shades,-

Who shall say I am not
the happy genius of my household?

Friday, June 19, 2009

Gothic Novel, Functional?

The Gothic Novel is now functional again!

But still unfinished!

Father's Day (DAD DON"T LOOK)



I made my father three portraits of himself for Father's Day. It may just be the cheapest gift in the history of gifts, as it didn't even cost the price of paper/paint.

But he's required to love it because I made it, right?

Right?

Oh, I'm Just Sitting Here in the Dark, Thinking About Vampires

Why is it so hard to get things done in the rain?

I had big plans for today. BIG PLANS!

But now, I'm just curled up on the couch with a cup of tea, staring into space and thinking, "In that episode of Buffy where the evil vampire Willow showed up, after they knocked out Evil Willow and decided that Good Willow should take her place, who actually switched the clothes? Because they totally went all out and even put Good Willow's pink tights on Evil Willow which is... intimate. Did Giles and Xander leave the room for this? I hope so."

EDITED TO ADD: The A.V. Club just got around to reviewing this episode, and there is an entire comment thread discussing the issue of whether or not one should put pink tights on unconscious vampires.

And also, "I read somewhere that the writers always knew that either Willow or Xander was going to be gay, but weren't sure which one, so when they did the episode with evil vampire versions of everyone, they gave both Evil Willow and Evil Xander gay 'tendencies' to keep their options open, which is interesting. I mean, everyone knows those slutty vampires will get it on with anyone because they transcend human concepts of sexual preference. But I'm interested in the writer's implicit assumption that vampire teenagers 'figure out' they're gay before human teenagers. And I wonder if there is a way to relate that to my own sexual figuring out, in which vampire literature played a large role. It both helped me to understand the concept of 'otherness' as something to be embraced, even desired (rather than hidden or avoided), and to understand sexuality as something more varied and complicated than 'his thing goes in your ladyparts, the end' which was pretty much all I'd gotten so far."

So now I'm thinking, "What will become of all the gay, goth teenagers out there, with Twilight all the rage?* What would I have turned out like, if at 13 my imaginary vampire love affair had been with Edward, rather than Lestat? Perhaps miserably married to my emotionally unstable high school boyfriend, since obviously love means never having a moment to yourself or making an independent desicion. Perhaps I would have spent my college years in a sort of premature spinsterhood, believing that I was in love with my best guy friend and unwilling to make a move lest it 'ruin the friendship,' all the while secretly fantasizing about the cool girl across the hall.** I hope those Twilight kids graduate quickly to Anne Rice, is all I'm saying."

Now my tea is cold.

*I sort of already posted about this.

**Perhaps I would have read any other books, ever? Yes, yes. Hyperbole for the sake of making a point!

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

What's Going On Outside My Window

A Short Play

Act One:

Drunk guy 1: Ben! Stop jerking off and get out here!

Drunk girl 1: That's not Ben's window anymore!

Drunk girl 2: Tell Ben to finger-fuck me!

Drunk guy 1: Ben! Come finger-fuck me!

Drunk girl 1: That's NOT Ben's window!!

Drunk guy 2: Tell Ben I finger-fucked his sister!

Act Two:

Drunk Girl 3: You look really pale... Are you going to throw up?

Drunk Girl 4: Oh my God, I hope not. I hate throwing up!

You Know How Sometimes...

Some one asks you to do something, and you agree to do it, and plans are made to do the thing, and then they call or email you later with a "Just reminding you to do the thing!" and that pisses you off for some reason?

What do you do about that?

I mean, your impulse is to be all "Duh, I'm gonna do the thing! Didn't we just talk about the thing? When have I ever been so irresponsible as to fail to do a thing? You're not the boss of me!!"

Which is clearly not productive.

Is this problem related to my deep-seated dislike of authority, like when being ordered to do a thing I was already going to do makes me immediately try to find ways out of doing the thing?*

Or perhaps my pathological need to be regarded as a functioning grown-up, which is rooted in my knowledge that I am not and never will be one, because that while it was unlikely I would have forgotten the thing, I did eat a handful of Chex Mix for breakfast, so where do I get off being so uppity?

Eh, whatever. I'ma go do the thing now.**

*Have I mentioned how much I can't wait until we get to the Caesar-stabbing rehearsal? "Speak, hands, for me!"

**And probably delete this post later, lest anyone involved in the thing read it and be offended.

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Guh?

Just saw an add that read "Google has blessed me with $5000 a month working from home."

Surely Google will be smited (smitten?) for its hubris any minute now.

Monday, June 15, 2009

What the Crap?

I just read an article in the New York Times about a middle school getting rid of academic tracking. It suffers from the pointlessness problem that plagues the NY Times (because haven't we been pretty sure since the 80s that the sort of tracking they're talking about doesn't serve anyone well?), and there is plenty that I could say about the whole "just shove everyone together in the middle" philosophy they seem to be advocating.

But instead, I chose to continue my tradition of singling out random quotes to make fun of:

The other day in Jamiya’s newly mixed social studies class, students debated who was to blame in an ancient Roman legal case in which a barber shaving a slave in a public square was hit by a ball and cut the slave’s throat. At one point, Jamiya was the only one in the class of 25 to argue that it was the slave’s fault because he sat there at his own risk — which the teacher said was the right answer.


How the fuck is that the right answer? That is the most ridiculous victim-blaming I've ever heard. Don't blame the douche playing ball in a crowded square, don't blame the guy with a deadly, sharp thing pressed against another person's throat, blame the person who was just sitting there? And do we even know if it was the slave's idea to get shaved? Maybe his owner was like "Get thee to the square, sirrah, for thy face is bristled unbecomingly!"*

Perhaps this is just shoddy reporting, and the teacher actually said that that is what the Roman court decided, which I suppose they may have done so as not to make the ball-man or the barber responsible for replacing the slave.

But whatever the case, what is the logic behind using this specific example to illustrate all the great new learning every one's getting now that the classes are integrated? I think the point was to illustrate how this girl who wouldn't normally have been in the "smart" class was the only one who could think outside the box, though really it just makes me want to take little Jamiya out for ice cream and explain to her that when random, horrible things happen to a person, it's not that person's fault. If we're using her as an example of how economic disadvantages were more responsible for kids getting placed in the lower performing classes than actual intelligence, it's double sad. Because by the logic that the teacher reinforced as correct, it was her own damn fault she was in the bottom percentile in the first place.

All that said, I wish we'd discussed things like that in my middle school social studies class. Though I probably would have just sat in the back, afraid to open my mouth and draw attention to myself, because in the past, exerting myself academically never turned out well. It mostly resulted in being constantly paired with the most troublesome students in the class in hopes I would rub off on them, or something (why, why do teachers persist in thinking that's a good idea? it sucks for both kids so much!), or in being assigned to grade the other students' tests (why? why?) or in being told "Kitty Pimms, will you put your hand down, we know you know the answer!"

Okay, I've got the time to get into this. Here's why "just shove everyone together in the middle" doesn't make for good educations; because really smart kids need as much extra help as really not-smart kids.

In fact, to put it more accurately and much less meanly, instead of thinking of kids on a spectrum of smartness we should be thinking of kids on a spectrum of "academic engagement" (or some less stupid-sounding thing). Then we have, on one end, kids who for whatever reason don't give much of a crap, who aren't engaged because the material is too hard or too easy for them, or because they have problems at home, or because the subject doesn't interest them. In the fat part of the curve are kids who are reasonably engaged; they're doing fine because get the material themselves or have support systems at home to help them, they work hard enough to improve, they basically like what they're doing. Finally, on the other end, there are kids that are hyper-engaged; they're focused on the subject to the exclusion of the rest of their lives, they consistently perform much higher than average for their age, they want to delve further into the material than the curriculum allows.

Thinking about it this way, you can see where the un-engaged kids and the hyper-engaged kids are going to be the same kids a lot of the time. So, to really make this thinking work, kids have to be evaluated differently in every subject. Then I, as a kid, would have been simultaneously in the "top" group in reading/writing, in the "bottom" group in math, in the middle group in art, etc. I wouldn't have been sitting in the back of the class reading Jane Eyre while everyone else was still plowing through whatever the McGraw-Hill reader had to offer that day. Nor would I have been in trouble a hour later because I still couldn't figure out how long division worked and obviously wasn't trying, because I was one of the smart ones.

Of course, I am well aware that this will never, ever happen, because it would cost a million-bajillion dollars to treat children as individuals. Not to mention that, while there's plenty of incentive to try to bring the lowest performers up to average, there isn't a lot of concern about keeping those with the highest potential from checking out (especially because they often still have higher-than-average scores even when not actually trying). In fact, there seems to be s suggestion that extra programs for "gifted" kids are some how providing those kids with some unfair privilege... Clearly, they should be down in the trenches, spreading their giant brains around to share, not in some ivory tower thinking they're better than everyone else. Which would be fine, if we weren't talking about, like, eight-year-olds.


*Based on the production of Julius Caesar I'm currently rehearsing, I'm pretty sure that's how ancient Romans talked.

Sunday, June 14, 2009

Sunday Poem


Sonnet 28
Elizabeth Barrett Browning

My letters! all dead paper, mute and white!
And yet they seem alive and quivering
Against my tremulous hands which loose the string
And let them drop down on my knee tonight.
This said—he wished to have me in his sight
Once, as a friend: this fixed a day in spring
To come and touch my hand. . . a simple thing,
Yes I wept for it—this . . . the paper's light. . .
Said, Dear, I love thee; and I sank and quailed
As if God's future thundered on my past.
This said, I am thine—and so its ink has paled
With lying at my heart that beat too fast.
And this . . . 0 Love, thy words have ill availed
If, what this said, I dared repeat at last!

Saturday, June 13, 2009

Newt Gets in a Fight



A new Newt Story!


This one is especially for two-and-three year olds. I've been planning it for a while, but didn't have time to work on it until I moved up here. Come to find out, it is no longer as topical as it was: when I left, the kids were all about kicking each other's little butts, but now, two of them have Swine Flu. So, clearly I should have written "Newt Gets the Plague."

Friday, June 12, 2009

That is so Hufflepuff

You know how, during the run of a show, there comes a point where you get a little sick of the play and everyone involved and you have to try really hard to remind yourself why you wanted to be an actor in the first place?

Or is that just me?

Anyway, we just finished our first week of rehearsals and right now we're in the bright and shiny patch where everything is fun and new and exciting. And because I'm a bitter husk of a human being who hates love (remind me to post about that later), all this happy joy of performance makes me think of last summer, specifically the parts of last summer when I felt like most of the rest of the company could take a long walk off a short pier, and take all the stupid costumes with them while they were at it.

One day, we were all sitting around backstage, sweating through our costumes, when somehow the topic of Harry Potter came up (I have this theory that the sort of theatre person who gravitates toward Shakespeare tends to also gravitate toward meticulously created fantasy worlds. Maybe I'll post about that sometime too).

Nearly a year later, I can't quite recall how the conversation went, but it turned into a discussion of how Hufflepuff was clearly the lamest house, and how humiliating it would be to be placed in Hufflepuff, and how any kid who actually wanted to be in Hufflepuff would be the Saddest Kid on Earth. And from thence we invented the adjective Hufflepufflian, for instances of rank stupidity and egregious laziness. The phrase "that's so Hufflepuff" was tossed around to describe thoughts of extreme lameness.

But the apex of this bored, sweaty and somewhat mean-spirited bout of Hufflepuff mockery (after we'd singled out the cast members who were obvious Hufflepufflians), was the founding Hufflepuff Community College.

And all of that was just a very unnecessarily long introduction to this:


I'll go ahead and justify it's creation as Photoshop practice.

Thursday, June 11, 2009

Best Thing Ever?

I think so...



From The Hope Chest, which posts scans of old newspaper articles. Vampires seems to be a recurring theme. Also a lot of the articles seem to be from the Chicago Tribune. Represent.

(Ignore the site's comments about Chicago drivers. We are the only people in this country who know how to drive. Everyone else is wrong).

Wednesday, June 10, 2009

An Open Letter

Dear Applebee's,

First, I don't really like you. Just want to get that out in the open. I think you're inferior to Chile's, Bennigan's and TGI Friday's, without even branching out from the crazy-crap-on-the-walls chain restaurant category. Oh, I like Ruby Tuesday's better too, but that's just because of the salad bar.

But I write not to hate on you, Applebee's. In fact, I really hope we can get along, considering that on weekdays you're the only place in town that's open after rehearsal. And those $3 Long Island's you offer really hit the spot, though sometimes you go a little too heavy on the sour mix. Plus, you still allow smoking in your bar.

You're not all bad, Applebee's. To be honest, I was a little touched to see that the big round booth in the corner, the one with all the local sports teams' memorobilia on the walls, hadn't changed since last summer. We had some good times in that booth, like the time rehearsal went long, and we got there just before last call and ordered like three drinks apiece.

Yes, the booth was the same, the drink specials and half-priced appetizers were just the way I remembered them, but something wasn't quite right, and I think we both know what it was.

What happened to the Vaguely Asian Sauce for the boneless wings? Forgive me for not being able to recall its exact name, but what I do recall was how well it complimented those fried balls of mostly-batter you call wings, and that it came with a wasabi-flavoured dipping sauce for the celery sticks that was also quite tasty. In fact, the only two things on the menu I have any desire to eat are Vaguely Asian Wings and the shrimp and spinach salad, which I can never actually get because you're always out of shrimp by the time I arrive. Where does that leave me, Applebee's? Hungry. And resentful.

So, here's how this is going to work. You bring back the Vaguely Asian Boneless Wings and I promise to stop unfavorably comparing you to The Ground Round. I'll also, maybe, try to keep the other people in my party from loudly making obscene double-entendres, because even at 11:30 p.m., I know you're a family restaurant. But they are actors, so I can't promise anything.

With Grudging Tolerance,
Kitty Pimms

P.S. You know what's funny? You call yourself a "neighborhood bar and grill" but I have never once seen an Applebee's anywhere that could be accurately described as a neighborhood. Perhaps you should consider replacing "neighborhood" with "strip mall" "just off the highway" or "office park," for the sake of accuracy.

EWWW, INTERNET!

I was just accosted by an add for some sort of detergent. It entreated me to: "Use your mouse to interact with the stain."

Gross and inappropriate. Interact with your own stain, internet.

Monday, June 8, 2009

The Juvenile Truth

I am an occasional visitor to that blog that showcases foreign signs with odd English usage. I like to pretend that I enjoy it because I love playing with language, that I come not for the "cock fried rice"-style humor but for the moments of inadvertent poetry:



Or the times when some anonymous sign-maker has managed to use our language with more precision and creativity than we usually do:



But then, I see something like this:


And giggle for the rest of the day.

Hot off the Presses!

A new installment of The Gay Companions!

Discord is brewing behind the scenes at White House Studios. Could the Companions be growing apart?

Sunday, June 7, 2009

Overheard

Usually, I find that the best things are overheard in the girls' bathroom. However, hearing random outbursts from other people's windows is also good.

For example, I just heard some one in the house next to me exclaim:

"I'm not going to let some boy tell me how to feel!"

Indeed.

Sunday Poem

I know I just did Rimbaud a few weeks ago, but:

My Bohemian Life
Arthur Rimbaud

I went off with my hands in my torn coat pockets;
My overcoat too was becoming ideal;
I travelled beneath the sky, Muse! and I was your vassal;
Oh dear me! what marvellous loves I dreamed of!

My only pair of breeches had a big hole in them.
– Stargazing Tom Thumb, I sowed rhymes along my way.
My tavern was at the Sign of the Great Bear.
– My stars in the sky rustled softly.

And I listened to them, sitting on the road-sides
On those pleasant September evenings while I felt drops
Of dew on my forehead like vigorous wine;

And while, rhyming among the fantastical shadows,
I plucked like the strings of a lyre the elastics
Of my tattered boots, one foot close to my heart!

Saturday, June 6, 2009

Why My Car Is Awesome

I totally thought the new season of True Blood started this weekend, but alas, it does not.

However, on the HBO website there are many vampire-themed ads, including this one for my car:*



Mini Coopers: So cool, vampires would totally buy them.

In other things from my life randomly featured on the internet, this LOLcat:



Is hanging out in a Crèche that looks exactly like the one my family has trotted out every December since time immemorial.

Here's the way we like to trick it out, daycare-style:



*Okay, mine's not a convertible. In fact, I think Mini convertibles look really, really stupid with their tops up, and in Chicago there are an average of four days a year when it's not too hot, too cold or too rainy to have one's top down. Plus, when I open up my windows and sunroof it's practically a convertible. Also, they didn't make the convertible yet when I bought mine. Also, the Clubman is totally bullshit, with it's cute little half-door. I'm pretty sure all the really cool vampires drive 2003 Minis. Probably red with black tops. That smell like cigarettes and vegetable korma. 'Cause I got Indian food tonight and left it in my car for a couple of hours. I can't believe I'm still writing this footnote. I've gotta go to bed.

Thursday, June 4, 2009

Remodeling!

I'm in the processes of remodeling girlishwhimsy.com as a way to keep myself busy while I wait for rehearsals to start.

I don't really have much of a plan, other than to go around going "I don't like the way that looks!" and then smashing the offending thing with a metaphorical hammer.

So, it may be awhile before anything but The Gay Companions is functional (since I already massively redesigned that recently, it should be spared).

Wednesday, June 3, 2009

Portraits


"Charlie"


Some more.

Tuesday, June 2, 2009

Three Newts


Newt Tree



See the other two

Monday, June 1, 2009

Weightier Matters

Let me link to Shakesville once again. There's an open letter to President Obama about the murder of D.r George Tiller.

There's not much I can add to that. Here's the comment I left:

Thank you. Thank you for once again refuting the position that this is a debate between two equally valid positions, in which extremism on both sides prevents the reasonable moderates from finding a solution. When one side argues that women haven't the right to control their own bodies, when they favor intimidation over peaceful protest, when their rhetoric, even when distancing themselves from acts of violence, is laced with hatred and with smug satisfaction, it seems to me that those reasonable moderates should be asking themselves how a cause that is served by such methods can be worthy of debate.

Perhaps then, the reasonable and decent people who oppose abortion (and, because of incidents like this, I found it hard to believe that they existed until I met some of them) can focus their efforts, not on limiting the choices of women, but on improving them, on working to reduce the number of unwanted pregnancies.


I was raised by liberal parents in a very Catholic family, so I've been spoon-fed both sides of this debate for pretty much my entire life, and even as a small child it was obvious to me that the solution was simple. If you don't approve of abortion, don't fucking have one.

I can't even begin to tell you how much it pisses me off that these people get to go around calling themselves pro-life.