I took the weekend off from writing because I thought I deserved a break. Also because I honestly believed I would get some housework done — laundry. Finally tidying my room. Going through my wardrobe to take out the winter sweaters for dry cleaning, going through old t-shirts and figuring out which ones to give to the Salvation Army. But alas — no. I did, however, manage to ship Maria’s computer to her (the guy who works at the UPS Store in Wicker Park on Saturday mornings is very groovy and was listening to Jesus and Mary Chain B-sides when I came in), accompanied Molly to Gus’s Recycling to drop off some cardboard and to the Humbold Park library to renew some books, and picked up lunch at Sultan’s Market on North Avenue. I ate my lunch at home while I caught up on my Netflix viewing:
To Kill A Mockingbird: I’d forgotten how perfect this movie is. Remember that part where Scout sees Boo Radley behind Jem’s bedroom door, moments after he saves them from Bob Ewell? Just the revelatory look on her face, where she recognizes the stranger with whom she’d been friends for a year, brought me to tears.
The Beat My Heart Skipped: I’ve never seen Fingers, the English-language original of this French remake, but it is now on my Netflix queue. I wish I spoke French better (okay, at all) but I sometimes felt like I didn’t need to. I have to confess I got this because I liked the title, but the movie ended up being very good. Lots of passion directed into violence, sex (occasionally), and music, the last being the most satisfying. I think this movie should be shown to people like me who give up on an instrument when young because they get lazy or simply lose interest. It’s been about twenty years since I last took lessons (from a Filipino lady who would spend most of my lesson gossiping with my mother over glasses of too-sweet Lipton’s iced tea made from a mix), and this movie (about a real estate shark who, upon a chance encounter with his late pianist mother’s booking agent, tries to return to the piano after not playing for ten years) made me think that I should find a teacher and start lessons again. PS: The character of Aline wore this really great outfit that, when I think about it now, is something the editors of Lucky magazine were gaga over in their April issue. Skinny leather bomber jacket over slim blouse or jersey tee, pencil skirt and medium heels. Dammit are those French women ever chic.
Michael is in town through next Sunday, so I didn’t feel so bad about not coming out Friday (though Jacinda and Joe told me I missed a good time). I got myself out the door Saturday night for dinner at Jin Ju with Michael, Kevin, Sean, and Ryan. Dammit, it was delicious, both the food and the busboy. Post-dinner drinking and foolishness were at Cocktail, then at Spin. I’ve never been to Spin. It wasn’t all crazy like I thought it would be. I did get my diet cokes for free, though. I noticed somewhere between Cocktail and Spin that my carefully applied eyeliner, which had withstood rain and a long bus ride to dinner and enduring heckling from the drunk yuppies who have taken over Bucktown, had now smeared that by the time I checked it I looked like a sad panda in drag. Oh boo. Whatevs. The lighting was never bright enough that the smudges were super-noticeable, and it’s not like anybody was checking my ass out. Okay, maybe the drag kings at Spin, but I was too transfixed on video images of Madonna’s crotch to notice. I left around 1pm, taking the Clark bus until a traffic accident forced the bus (and me with it) to detour to Halsted. Got a cab home from Webster and Halsted, and not too soon as I was outside an Irish pub full of drunken Trixies tugging on sequined green halter tops (Saturday was the downtown St. Patrick’s Day Parade) and I was not trying to hear any of their bullshit.
Sunday was quiet. Molly was gone by the time I woke up. A quorum of supafriends, joined by Andrew (aka “The Hasidic Warrior”) for an afternoon showing of Dave Chappelle’s Block Party. A great movie — highly recommended, if only for Dave riffing on any and everything. The two kids from Ohio who got to attend the block party at Dave’s invitation. The Central State Marching Band accompanying Kanye West on a searing rendition of “Jesus Walks”. Erykah Badu ripping off her afro wig and just cutting loose. The Roots, Jill Scott, and Erykah Badu performing the Roots’ most perfect “You Got Me”. Lauryn Hill’s scary unkempt eyebrows. Afterwards, tacos and Uno at my place where I came up with the title for the first track of the rap album I will one day release: “It’s Hard Out Here For A Flip”. Thank you, thank you bitches. Also, “Big Flippin'”, and the video would feature me on a yacht pouring diet ginger ale onto the naked hairless torsos of hot male models. Oh it would be awesome. My weekend came to an end with the season premiere of The Sopranos and the series premiere of Big Love. Both were great, but I missed Grey’s Anatomy. Anybody tape it and want to lend it to me?
Monday was slow, though it was a co-worker’s birthday so we celebrated with an absurd number of baby bundt cakes from The Corner Bakery. Holy balls are those things good. Though the CB no longer has the carrot cake baby bundts that I love so much, the new banana flavor is scrum-diddly-umptious. On the way home from work, Michael texted me some lyrics for “Big Pimpin'” which, sadly, I erased by mistake from my phone. Argh. Oh, and it was, like, really windy here in Chicago. Things falling off buildings. Tornados in the south. Um, when does spring start again?
Tuesday — again, not much to report though I did finally get the OK for my April vacation in New York. I will definitely hit Philly if the usual friends want to see me — maybe even get concert tour t-shirts made up to sell. Also, I got a manicure. Bright red nails – they look utterly fantastic, but I don’t count on it lasting long as I’m bowling Saturday night. Ladies, what do you do if you want to bowl but do not want to ruin a fresh manicure?
So for March 15, 2006, day 15 of the 30 days of jasmine, observe the Ides of March by renting the first season of Rome on DVD. Feel free to watch the last episode first, so you can see Julius Caesar enjoy his last Ides of March. Or just do what I like to do and just look for all the naughty bits scattered throughout the season. A friend would probably also want me to remind you that March 14 was either Pi Day or Steak & a BJ Day. I think it’s pretty clear in what way both holidays should be observed, in which case feel free to spare me the details.
“Pootie Tang will draw you a picture of how he gonna kick your ass, then mail it to you ten days in advance. The picture gets there right? You’re goin’, ‘What the hell is this?’ and then Pootie Tang knocks on your door, promptly kicks your ass and you still won’t know what happened to you!”
Jens Lekman – Pretty Shoes; Catherine Wheel – She’s My Friend; Earth Wind & Fire – Reasons; Frida – I Know What’s Going On; The Chemical Brothers – Galvanize; Guns N’ Roses – Patience; Tim Buckley – Strange Feelin’
“Big Nintendo Pimpin'” (CRBT)
iracy Theories (FT)
Having a Kid Does Strange Things to Your Internal Dialog (HE): a link for Andrew and Rozi, and my co-worker Dave and his wife.