“Contrary to what today’s kids think, it is not cool to have Shane MacGowan teeth.”
The weekend before last, some disgruntled anarchist types distributed several hundred flyers advertising a party at the “Real World” apartment on North Avenue. They’ve decided to protest the gentrification of Wicker Park and the intrusion of Bunim-Murray Productions by marching with signs, throwing red paint on the door, and just being bothersome. I wish I had known about this ahead of time, because I would have loved to document it properly. However, I was in the throes of reliving the 80s at the Empty Bottle’s New Order/Depeche Mode tribute night. The Sun-Times was kind enough to run the address of the apartment, so I can only imagine that the building has been cruised by all sorts of interesting people. Which is all good, as Wicker Park’s residents haven’t been entertaining . . . well, ever.
I spent most of last week procrastinating on tidying up the apartment. I was concerned that if Nick and Nadine needed to stay at my place some night that we’d all have to pile into my bed or I’d have to rib up a hammock on my porch with Kevin’s tarp (which I’ve had since last summer) and some inflatable ottomans Nadine found last year at Ikea for $2. Fortunately, I was spared the embarassment of being ill-prepared for guests as they’ve been at Mike and Angie’s air-conditioned apartment the whole time.
I did go out Tuesday night. The Chicago Outdoor Film Festival started last week, so I dragged my chair to Grant Park for a showing of “An American in Paris”, one of my favorite movies of all time. I was feeling kind of anti-social, which was weird considering I had e-mailed a bunch of people to get them to come out. I did see Jalissa and briefly considered sitting with her and her friends but I was deep in the middle of my book and I didn’t want to stop reading. So J, if you’re reading this — sorry. I’d just gotten up to a really exciting bit (MacArthur leaves the Philippines, the Japanese invade Luzon) and I wanted to get through the Bataan death march before dark fell.
So “An American in Paris” — it’s never annoyed me like the other musical films of the period that I do love so much. As much as I adore the genre, I could always find one thing in a musical that would annoy me to no end throughout the movie. Like, for example, the eerie symmetry of Judy Garland’s eyebrows in “Meet Me in St. Louis”. The brief second in “White Christmas” when you see Bing Crosby with no pants on. Natalie Wood’s accent in “West Side Story”. But Gene Kelly is such a great dancer, and I’ve loved Oscar Levant’s moodiness. Also, 112 minutes of Gershwin — love it.
I went out for lunch Friday, which is a damn shame as there was Greek food in the office and it was pretty good. Spanakopita, moussaka, lamb — no saganaki, which is a shame because I was really in the mood for some ouzo. But I had to go out for lunch, because Andrew was in town for one day only. Also, Nadine and Nick are visiting this weekend, so Nadine met us at work (where Andrew’s presence caused a near-riot, he’s so popular with my co-workers) and we dragged out some other people to Angelo’s.
An hour and quite a few french fries later, I was falling asleep at my desk. It’s not as though I didn’t have work to do. I just didn’t feel like doing it, so I spent the rest of the day cursing out my ISP (which is why this flip front has not materialized in your mailbox until now). It still wasn’t fixed by the time I got home Friday night, so I went home and orderd some food. Called Jacinda (who was home sick, chugging Pedialyte) to make sure she was okay. I tried to apply concealer in the middle of dinner, which was ridiculous as I got peanut sauce all over my chin. Though, in certain lights, the sauce was just a smidge darker than my concealer. I blended it up and around my cheekbones — ooh, I’ve got a tan! I played like this for about two minutes when I thought “Oh my god, I’m smearing peanut sauce all over myself. How gross.” I washed my face immediately.
Friday was, in case you were wondering, the 1st anniversary of “news from the flip front”, so I hoped you spent the day doing something you love. I went out to hear music and ogle boys (which I’ll talk about tomorrow), so my evening was good. Hope yours was just as pleasant. I was going to have a party, but it was too damn hot to crowd a bunch of people into my a/c-less apartment just to serve them cheap beer and episodes of “Degrassi Jr. High” on video tape. Flip front 100 will be out in about 3 weeks, so maybe I’ll do something then.
In tomorrow’s flip front:
* new sneakers!
* heat, heat, and more heat
* i hate poorly-dressed tourists
* resisting temptation, avoiding the lipstick at Nordstrom
“Reminiscing isn’t what is used to be.”
Jimmy Scott – Our Day Will Come (a bit more melancholy than the Ruby & The Romantics version); Erasure – Waiting for The Day; The Clash – Hateful; Jimmy Scott – Everybody’s Somebody’s Fool; Led Zeppelin – Ramble On; Basement Jaxx – I Want You; The Donnas – 40 Boys in 40 Nights; The Sundays – God Made Me