reading:
John Bowe (ed): Gig: Americans Talk About Their Jobs
Gail Simone: Birds of Prey
Sarah Vowell: Take the Cannoli
Howard Zinn: People's History of the U.S.
So, I meant to watch Angels in America tonight, work on my screenplay some, and then tuck myself into bed with tonight's Alias. Instead, I went into a coma halfway through Angels, waking up an hour into the cinematic classic Drumline and stumbling towards the TiVo to watch Alias. Why? Because I was incapable of doing anything else. Napping leaves me dull in the brain, semi-conscious and barely able to move. Even an hour later, I'm not quite awake -- and given that I didn't get a lot of sleep this weekend, I think I'll just go back to bed. After updating my life as best I can, of course.
So, you got a Moby fan in your life? Then you want to give them the 18 B-sides/DVD set for Christmas. It's economical and delicious -- if only because the DVD includes a CD's worth of Moby remixes, on top of yet more songs AND a live set from Glastonbury. And if there's something I love, it's Moby live. In the game of Anywhere But Here, my answer always varies between London in the rain and Moby performing live. Moby performing live in London while it rains outside? Heaven.
I so often tend to get obsessive about the things I like best, so it's strange to me how I'm not fangirlish about Moby. I just LIKE him, the same way I like my cat and pizza and rainy nights. Maybe it's because I've liked him for so long -- most of my favorites from high school have either faded into obscurity or no longer jibe with my current sensibilities, but Moby -- my first college love -- remains intact. Maybe it's because his style has evolved, to a degree -- I couldn't care less about the new Sarah McLachlan album, but that's because it sounds exactly like the stuff she was doing six years ago. Six years ago, I was interested. Now? I'm looking forward to the dance record Moby's putting out. A album entirely of dance music. I dig on the ambient stuff so much that sometimes I forget, how much Moby can make me dance.
And Moby at the Apple store was awesome; self-depricating and sensitive and very funny. I like him as a person, almost as much as I like his music. He's just... neat.
Friday night, I saw a play written by a friend of a friend, and it was pretty gosh-darn good. Not exactly what I was expecting, but funny and dark and strange. If you're in the LA area and like theater, Little by Angela Berlinger (second stage at the Actor's Gang) is a good bet.
Saturday, there was sleeping in and reading and laundry and bathroom-cleaning, with some writing in the evening. And then a wine-and-cheese party, which was full of tasty tasty cheese and some decent wine (I don't like wine, as a rule, so that's saying something). I actually talked to people, too, like a grown-up. It was fun, to be a grown-up with a glass of wine, eating cheese. I met a lot of actors -- some of whom had actually done things I'd heard about. There are so many actors in this town. Weirds me out.
And then Sunday, today, I did something new and exciting -- volunteering at a community arts festival in Venice. Pretty much all I did was chair-moving, face-painting, and tamale-eating -- but it was fun, tripping me right back to my Girl Scout days (all twelve years of them). I even attempted to remember some Spanish from kindergarten (ah, the joys of the Texas public education system). Attempted being the key word, there.
Out and about and active. The way I like my life.
I had an awesome dream last night -- the kind you don't want to wake from -- where I was a cast member on an improv version of Saturday Night Live, and I was successful and happy and a huge hit. My family was there and they were ridiculously proud. Really, a fantastic dream.
And it made me think about how I live walking distance from a Second City training center. It made me think about the time I tried out for an improv workshop, just completely abandoning dignity in the name of comedy and not only having a great time, but getting accepted to the workshop. I couldn't actually do it at that time -- didn't have the hundred bucks or the Saturdays -- but it was still fun as all heck. Something to consider for spring, perhaps. I miss learning things. Especially fun things like comedy.
Bed now, I think, though I have much more to get down. Updates on skin, cars, comic books, work. Rainy days and sunny mornings. Cirque du Soleil and Queer Eye for the Straight Guy. Oversleeping. And writing. Always writing.
