::gibbers incomprehensibly for about 20 minutes:: I want… please? Mine. ::collapses::
If you love me… ::sigh::
Gah! Thank you, Renata! Moondance, not Stardust. Fwee, I have Neil on the brain. Good stuff, as Grand St. and 6th Ave. isn’t too far from my dorm. Less than a mile from my dorm, or 2 subway stops away! ::grooves:: I know where *I’m* eating some time this week! Not tonight, as I want to eat quickly and close to home so that I can churn out more rubbish for Extra-Credit week. I’ve already finished my Rebecca Clone painting, and I’m currently looking for an inspiring reference for a second. Go me.
Stupid Elfwood Comment of the Day: “If thats ginny and harry……..I gotta say…Thats so0o0o0o swwet”
There are reasons that the image file is titled “tanja_jameslily1.jpg”
Oh — Melissa is 20. And according to Renata’s new naming regime, I am Brazilla. Cower beneath my mighty Brazillian might.
The love continues to grow! My heart now embraces that 50% grey paper stuff and Urinetown: The Musical. (Look at the sky! There’s a great big heart there! There’s a heart in the sky! It just is, don’t ask why! It’s the sky!) Pure, absolute genius. It has not out-hearted Bat Boy, but the heart quotient nonetheless remains astronomical. (Renata, have you heard Bat Boy yet? If not, you must) Anyway, regarding the Stardust Diner, it turns out that it was not at all as I imagined. As I wrote in my sketchbook:
At the Stardust Diner… where the ponytailed, poodleskirt-clad waitstaff periodically burst into song. Somehow, I don’t think this was the restaurant that employed Jonathan Larson (and lately, Mary Jane Watson). For one thing, it doesn’t have that big billboard I remember from my RENT book. Two, no one would here would dare don that skimpy red frock ported by the arachnophilic MJ. No, this is the place for Mama Mia and Mame, rather than Tick, Tick… Boom! and RENT. This is a place where enormous men warble in tenor, and the expectedly Pascalesque sing like Franco Nero.
I later asked an Informed Waiter if this was really Jonathan Larson’s former workplace, and he told me that it had closed a while ago. Meh. My pilgrimage had been in vain. But the food was passable, so they are forgiven.
Alas, I decided that the notion of a theatre weekend coinciding with Extra-Credit Week was suicidal, so I decided to nix “Private Lives”. Perhaps I can go to the theatre sometime next week and stalk Alan Rickman then. ::nods:: I still want to see “Chicago” on Sunday, though. ::nods:: Instead of theatreing this morning, I slept in and worked my bootie off on a bunch of prettily modeled facial features on my newly beloved 50% grey paper. Gravy, it’s wonderful. I’m obsessed with the eye I made. ::stares::
Also, anyone thinking of sending me snails should instead direct them to my home. My parents tell me that I’m moving out of my dorm Wednesday night. Yeep.
oh, yeah. And today is my sister’s birthday. Wish her happy birthday, everyone!
Goody. This is “extra-credit weekend”, which means that all students are going to work their fingers to the bone on massive quantities of art. At times like this, I really wish I had a roommate to use as a reference. At the moment, I’m starting an oil painting from a photograph (bad Priscellie!): Natalie, the Rebecca clone, from the Gaiman-fest. Hurrah! I’m also racking my brains for things to draw. Charcoal, hurrah.
I’m taking the evening off, however. At Renata’s repeated jabs with a stick, I have decided to go see “Urinetown”. And I’m going to eat at the Stardust Diner, the restaurant where Jonathan Larson worked. Yes, I am a complete loser. XD And after reading that it closes September 1st, I want to see “Private Lives” tomorrow. Let the stalkage begin! This shall be my theatre weekend. Perhaps “Chicago” on Sunday? Gravy. Of course, I haven’t seen anything in the four weeks I’ve been here, so it’s justified.
I have also decided that the title of God shall be bequeathed to whoever comes up with a subway system thingie where you can just select the station nearest you and your location, and it gives you precise details on how to get there with minimum fuss. Like a MapQuest for subways. Maps are confusing. ::sigh::
Meanwhile, books of choice at the moment are Sandman III (picked up V-VI last night. Curse expensive graphic novels!), A Clockwork Orange (much more intriguing than the movie), and Nickel and Dimed (required reading for school, meh). The Comic Book Guy at B&N was spot-on when he said that the first two Sandman graphic novels were okay, but starting with the 3rd, they get far better. Both storylines and art are far superior to the first two. Tra la.
Scary moment of the day: My mom tells me that last week, she thought she was pregnant. She’s going through menopause, and therefore is encountering strange side effects from the hormone replacement pills she’s taking. Of course, all is merry, for it was a false alarm, but still, it’s frankly terrifying to imagine that your mom could possibly be pregnant. Are my parents taking advantage of having an empty house to themselves? I know that I exist and my sister exists, but thinking about what was required for us to come into existance is mind-scarring. Yeep?
So that’s my nice, long blog entry of the day. Hurrah.
Woah, woah, woah! When I go to see “Private Lives”? I told Alicey that there was a chance. I haven’t bought tickets or anything yet! From Renata’s urging, Urinetown is my top priority, then Chicago. In fact, I may not see Private Lives at all, and just wait outside the stage door when I estimate the show is over. Calm thyselves!
I now declare my love for oil paint. I finished up the still life from yesterday, and it’s utterly heartable. It includes a green wine bottle, which I’m absolutely obsessed with. I can’t wait until I come up with some method for showing you guys what I’ve been doing! ::cheers merrily:: Anyway, right now, we’re starting on portraits. Every day (okay, most days) we have a male and a female model, and I chose the guy. It’s hilarious — looking at people’s pre-drawings, he always either looks like Carrot or Agent Doggett. I laughed.
Meanwhile, I remain in a good mood, as I’ve accomplished my good deed of the day. I was on my way to the library in a slight downpour, valiantly clutching my weak and demented umbrella, when I saw an umbrellaless woman headed the same direction. I ran up to her and shared the umbrella, which was much appreciated. Hurrah.
Meanwhile again, today’s Word of the Day is “onus”. This also makes me happy, as I’ve never really known what “onus” meant, despite singing it wholeheartedly in “Cinderella Darling” in H2$. Additionally, as having words that people might not know in musicals can be frowned upon, it’s nice to see a word pointed out that’s more obscure than “lycanthropy”, which has been bothering me for quite some time. I like that line, and I don’t want to change it. Grr. Do people really not know what it means? Gravy.
Shall I stalk Alan Rickman? That would be rather lovely, say I. I would take photographs and get an autograph for Alicey (and myself). Hurrah. This would be nice, as my photographs of Neil came out wretchedly. Grr. Why did they have to have a really bright window behind him? ::grouses:: I shall pester Natalie until she sends me copies of her photographs, which should be better, as they weren’t taken with a dinky disposeable camera. Phooey.