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January 31, 2007
Orson's Shadow at the Roundhouse Theatre
Tonight I went with two girlfriends to opening night of Orson's Shadow at the Roundhouse Theatre. It was pay-what-you-can night, and we each plunked down $10 and were rewarded with seats in the front row of the balcony.
Let me begin by noting that there are no bad seats at the Roundhouse. It's so small and intimate that even in the balcony (which has only two rows) you can see every gesture, hear every sigh, and yes, roll your eyes at every bad English accent.
The play itself is a strange premise, and here's how Roundhouse pitches it:
Round House Theatre is proud to present the DC-area premiere of Orson's Shadow, one of this year's biggest Off-Broadway hits. Orson Welles, Laurence Olivier, Vivien Leigh, and Joan Plowright come to life in this clever comedy that reimagines the backstage drama that accompanied a 1960 production of Ionesco's Rhinoceros. A fictional account of real events, Orson's Shadow uses humor and irony to reveal the fragility and vulnerability of these larger-than-life celebrities whose tangled romance and fleeting fame lead to a hilarious and powerful clash of the titans. Pendleton's dark backstage comedy has been called the greatest exploration of the artistic soul in a generation.
I'll admit, it's probably especially hard to carry off a play where the actors are portraying real, famous people who happen to be actors, in a situation where they are dramatizing the real-life production of a play. Tricky indeed. And I'm sorry to report that the cast was unable to rise to the occasion.
It's not that the play was terrible--or that the actors were terrible. I will reveal, however, that I did consider sneaking out after the awkward opening scene between emphysema-stricken theatre critic Ken Tynan (played by an over-the-top-fake-coughing Will Gartshore) and swaggering Orson Welles (played in caricature-format by Wilbur Edwin Henry) transitioned to a bizarre soliloquy that mocks theatre-type exposition--all while providing fifty years of biographical history on Orson Welles. It was intended to be ironic, I suppose, but it did not prove a good start to the evening.
There were moments when I thought my intiial impressions were mistaken...particularly when Vivian Leigh (played by Kathryn Kelley) appeared on the scene. Ms. Kelley managed to capture the mannerisms, accent, and overall fragility of Leigh in a way that made me marvel at her talents. Unfortunately, even her manic-depressive grace could not carry the second half. Seeing her struggle to convince the audience that Leigh was in the midst of a manic breakdown was only slightly less painful than watching the actors try to convince us they cared about the meltdown occuring before their eyes.
At one point in the play, Tynan reflects that perhaps he writes such scathing reviews because he believes that great actors should produce great work, and when they fall short it behooves him to call them on their flat performances. Hearing that coming from the stage tonight makes it easier to write my own scathing review.
The twisted irony here is that this disappointing play is all about actors trying to recover from the impact of poor reviews, about trying to sustain their self-worth despite harsh critique, about trying to convince themselves that their performances were misjudged, their skills slighted, their futures ruined--not by themselves, but by critics. I wonder how the cast feels tonight...
My verdict: it is a crime that those front-row balcony seats that we enjoyed tonight for $10 will be going for $45 a pop starting tomorrow night, and running every night for the next four weeks. For that amount, I would expect to see "the greatest exploration of the artistic soul in a generation". Or at least consistent British accents.
Posted by madchen at 11:20 PM | Comments (2)Mr. Pilot Responds
Ms. Write Again Soon,
[ X ] Even though you are smart, funny, attractive, and excellent in bed, I’m “just not that into you”. I would have called, but I feel sheepish that we’ve been dating for three months and I can’t be upfront about this fact . . . is the closest ‘choice’ though not entirely accurate.
You are definitely smart (even smarter than me and I’m wicked smart) and funny (see previous email), and attractive (wow) . . . beyond excellent in bed (mmm) . . .
I’m not sure that I see a serious relationship between us in the long term and I’m not sure that continuing a great sexual relationship in lieu of that is the best thing for either of us if we aren’t upfront with that.
Should I have been and adult and talked about this to you upfront: YES. Should I have not returned your calls: NO.
Very frankly, I wimped out and I hate admitting that. I don’t consider myself a wimp, but I do consider myself honest enough to admit when I’ve been ‘wimpy’. I should have brought it up instead of taking advantage of the aforementioned excellent sex.
I don’t really know what to say. If you want to talk I’m willing. If you don’t, I definitely, definitely understand. I am embarrassed (as I should be) by my actions (especially saying this in an email).
Mr. Pilot
Posted by madchen at 10:42 AM | Comments (6)January 30, 2007
An Open Letter to Mr. Pilot
Dear Mr. Pilot,
I believe you owe me a phone call (or several). Since you haven’t called, however, I’m guessing that you MUST have a good reason. As you know, impatience is my biggest personal flaw, and I am not so good at just “waiting it out”. To make it easy on you, I’ve compiled a list of acceptable excuses. Simply check any/all that apply and we'll call it even.
[ ] I was in a terrible plane crash over the Andes. I would have called, but I’ve been too busy deciding which of my frozen companions to eat first. That, and there’s not any cell phone coverage here in the mountains of Chile.
[ ] I’ve met someone, fallen in love, and gotten engaged. I would have called, but I’ve just been swamped with looking at reception sites, picking a tuxedo, and planning our honeymoon. Given the high cost of weddings, do you think we should elope?
[ ] I’m moving forward with buying a house. I would have called, but I’ve been spending every spare moment with my real estate agent and she has a nasty habit of listening in on my phone calls. I don’t want to whisper sweet nothings to you with her hovering in the background.
[ ] I’ve been writing up a storm in an attempt to jumpstart my book. I would have called, but I’m so deep into the world of castle spies and epic adventures that taking 10 minutes to phone you would be irresponsible to my future reading public.
[ ] Even though you are smart, funny, attractive, and excellent in bed, I’m “just not that into you”. I would have called, but I feel sheepish that we’ve been dating for three months and I can’t be upfront about this fact.
[ ] Now that it’s celebrity award show season, I’ve been swamped with my obsession to People.com and TMZ.com. I would have called, but my commitment to Britney and Paris’s latest exploits takes priority over my personal relationships. And I’m gay.
[ ] Other (specify) ________________________________________________
I think that about covers the list of acceptable excuses. Are there others that I’m missing?
Ms. Write Again Soon
January 29, 2007
The Only Thing Sadder Than A Dead Horse...
...is packing up to go home after a weekend away.
So Barbaro is dead. The real shame, it seems to me, is that they tried to rehab him for 8 months before finally "putting him down." But I digress.
Ms. RBT and I are leaving in an hour to head back to our real lives, and it is indeed a sad sight. The car is packed with dirty clothes, used bedsheets, and a hodgepodge of new purchases, layers of coats, scarves, hats, and gloves, and various computer equipment (it was, after all, a "working vacation").
We had planned on playing a farewell game of Scrabble before leaving, but instead decided to make the most of the sofas by the fireplace to continue our work until the very last moment. So here we are, with the clock counting down to 6 p.m., and I'm very sad to be turning in the keys to this charming house and starting the journey back to reality.
Posted by madchen at 05:07 PM | Comments (1)January 28, 2007
Girl Talk
Like many other Sunday afternoons, I'm sitting on a couch with my laptop and the television murmuring in the background. What makes this weekend different is that this couch is located only 3 miles from the beach.
Ms. Rather Be Travelling (who no longer blogs), Ms. Wish to See, Ms. Maryment, and Ms. Signe (who never blogged), and I decided on an impromptu girls weekend at the beach--mainly for the tax-free outlet shopping, but also because it's nice to get away.
We've been making this trip on an almost-annual basis for about a decade, and usually we finagle lodging out of Ms. NYC Rouge, whose family has a little place nearby. But since she's firmly tied to her lesbian-soliciting-blog-endeavor up in Brooklyn (which I think we all agree can only end badly, if not actually involving body parts in a refrigerator), it was up to us to find a place to rent for the weekend.
We totally lucked out, and ended up in a brand new, nicely decorated, HUGE townhouse just a few miles from the hundreds of outlets we so desperately craved. We've decided upon reaching a certain age it is of critical importance to locate lodging where a minimum of people are sharing bathroom facilities. And this place has proved just delightful--Ms. Rather Be Travelling and I are staying on an extra day and a half to continue our "working vacation" while the other girls have just left.
So that's me. Once again, working on a Sunday (although I might go take a nap, since it appears I have not yet changed out of my pajamas even though it is pushing 2:30 p.m.). But since Mr. RBT is sitting on the next couch, also working (on her dissertation), somehow it feels much more congenial.
Posted by madchen at 02:10 PM | Comments (1)January 26, 2007
You Had Me at Cockfight
In my early morning (9 a.m.) rush to avoid work, I have been perusing the movie reviews from the Washington Post. One immediately caught my eye:
Checking in on the entertainment spectrum somewhere between a cockfight and a really fine tractor pull, "Smokin' Aces" offers scabrous, bloody and bloody-minded fun for reptiles and reptile wannabes.
Well, well, here is a movie that clearly asks for more attention from such a refined eye as Ms. Write Again Soon!
Seek in its confines neither wisdom nor insight, beauty nor refinement, grace nor poetry, but rather enjoy a movie that most resembles a guided tour of the annual Shooting, Hunting and Outdoor Trade Show, where the year's new-model toys are introduced. Although the stars include Jeremy Piven, Ray Liotta, Ben Affleck and Ryan Reynolds, the truly commanding performance is handed in by a mean-as-sin Barrett .50 semiautomatic sniper rifle.
My, my, my. (In case it's not clear, this is actually a flattering review, as reviewer Stephen Hunter seems to appreciate that sometimes a movie that's just fun (in a cockfight sort of way) deserves a "critics pick". My interest has definitely been whetted, an much more so than the terrible review of Catch-and-Release, starring my "secret celebrity wife if I was a lesbian" Jennifer Garner. I wonder if she feels bad that her husband's movie, released on the same weekend, is getting such better reviews.
Perhaps I spend some time on the internet research such information. For the good of all mankind, of course.
Posted by madchen at 09:22 AM | Comments (1)January 25, 2007
Dream a Little Dream of Me
I know it's boring to read other peoples' dreams, but I've been having a weird streak lately, just full of analytical potential. Freud would adore me this week.
First off, a few nights ago I went to sleep and had a series of bizarre vignette dreams. They ranged from soft core fumblings to Prison Break-esque chase scenes, from boring "reliving mundane daily tasks" to one where I was trying to explain to a judge why even though I had committed the crime I couldn't be considered guilty because I *felt* no guilt about it. (I believe I may have been trying the "I'm a psychopath" defense, but the dream ended before a judgment was handed down.)
What made the whole thing bizarre (in more than a traditional "bizarre dream" way) was that immediately preceding each vignette was a ratings disclaimer--like the kind you see in the movies. For each sequence, there was a green screen that indicated what was to follow: "intense prolonged realistically graphic sequences of war violence", "strong sexual content, nudity, language and some drug-related material", "disturbing and graphic depiction of violent anti-social behavior"--you get the idea. And sure enough, the dream was filled with exactly that sort of behavior. It was uncanny.
Secondly, I had a dream last night that Mr. Pilot called and assuaged all my fears about him. I confessed that I was head over heels for him, and while he didn't exactly get down on one knee he clearly proclaimed that I was the only girl he was interested in and that all of this cat-and-mouse was just a reflection of his busy schedule and my earlier proclamations of needing independence. It was such a relief.
And then I woke up. And realized that it was just my imagination and that really I was still in that "he's just not that into you" place. Strangely enough, it wasn't nearly as devastating as it might have been, so I think that maybe it wasn't all about needing to hear affirmations from him as just wanting to hear something, ANYTHING. Even if it was just in my mind.
I'm hoping that tonight I'll dream that he has died in a tragic aircraft accident, so that my subconscious can mourn his untimely demise and I can move on with a clean slate. Somehow, having him dead is much more bearable than having him alive and uninterested.
Posted by madchen at 10:47 PM | Comments (1)January 24, 2007
Let's all bite our nails together...
I just called him. You know, Mr. Pilot. The one who has been incommunicado for the past...let me pretend to check the calendar...eleven days and three hours.
His phone was turned off (usually a sign that he's in the air) and so I left a message. A very nice message, but one that was very clear that I was going out of town this weekend and wanted to talk to him before I left.
Let the waiting commence.
In the meantime, I think I'll while away the hours getting my eyes checked--it's been 4 years since I had my LASIK done and I'm still seeing 20/20 (and occasionally 20/15). So even if it turns out that I'm destined to be single and alone for the rest of my life, I can take consolation in the fact that I can spot miserable couples without squinting even a bit.
Posted by madchen at 03:29 PM | Comments (1)January 23, 2007
Gizoogle
I've said it before, and I'll say it again: I *heart* Gizoogle.
I frequently see how my blog entries are translated, and here is the best sentence from the previous one about Mr. Bethesda:
We rap quite frankly `bout our pimpin` life: why Mr. Pilot doesn't call me (answa: he's a bum) n why Mr Bethesda can't seem ta put tha moves on his "family friend" (answa fo yo bitch ass: he needs ta walk her ta tha front door afta they bustin').
What's not to love?
Posted by madchen at 05:26 PM | Comments (1)January 22, 2007
Bodyguard
Before you ask, I haven't heard a single word from Mr. Pilot. That's right...it's been 9 days since I left his front porch and NOTHING. I'm bitter, but haven't taken Mr. Bad Apologies' good advice to just call him up and ask him to justify his behavior (or lack thereof). So let's just move on, shall we?
I spend Sunday afternoon with Mr. Bethesda, who has turned out to be quite the ally. We have a bizarre arrangement where it really is an even split between "friends" and "benefits". We talk quite frankly about our dating life: why Mr. Pilot doesn't call me (answer: he's a bum) and why Mr Bethesda can't seem to put the moves on his "family friend" (answer: he needs to walk her to the front door after their outings). We even enjoy just being quiet around each other--like when we spent a good two hours on Sunday reading the paper (ok, mostly I took a nap on the couch while *he* read the paper). And then, of course, the "benefits" part, which is very nice too.
With all these nice qualities, what is my most favorite thing about Mr. Bethesda? He's armed.
Because of his job, Mr. Bethesda carries a gun with him where ever he goes--including out to lunch with me. His job's "deadly force policy" says he can shoot people with reckless abandon (ok, that's just my take), and we've had many discussions about when he would, in fact, shoot someone. Example:
Mr. Bethesda and Ms. Write Again Soon are walking down the street and two people walk up and demand out wallets. They have their hands in their jacket pockets and appear to have a gun trained at us. Does he shoot them? Here's what Mr. Bethesda had to say:
Scenario 1: If the gun is pointed at me, Mr. Bethesda makes me give them my wallet (which I would, of course, refuse to do), and then he probably lets them go. But maybe he shoots them, depending on other variables.
Scenario 2: If the gun is pointed at "us", Mr. Bethesda steps in front of me and refuses--identifying himself as a [person who carries a gun all the time]. If they don't immediately retreat and/or surrender, he shoots them.
Scenario 3: I make a commotion and they shoot me, then run away. Mr. Bethesda takes 15 seconds to shoot them, then returns his attention to me, where he provide heroic resuscitation so that my life is prolonged long enough to get me to a hospital.
I should say that while I find these explorations to be highly interesting, it's not like Mr. Bethesda has a history of shooting people--even when presented with such scenarios. I think his previous training just makes him like to *think* that he'll be capable of shooting 2 people within 15 seconds, all before providing life-saving CPR to his friends-with-benefits person lying gasping for breath on the pavement.
That said, I feel really safe with him. And that makes up (partially) for a lack of phone calls from other gentlemen callers.
Posted by madchen at 05:52 PM | Comments (0)January 18, 2007
Books I Read In Between Work and Boys
New total: 108
The Audacity of Hope: Thoughts on Reclaiming the American Dream
by Barak Obama
Publishers Weekly: Ilinois's Democratic senator illuminates the constraints of mainstream politics all too well in this sonorous manifesto. Obama (Dreams from My Father) castigates divisive partisanship (especially the Republican brand) and calls for a centrist politics based on broad American values. His own cautious liberalism is a model: he's skeptical of big government and of Republican tax cuts for the rich and Social Security privatization; he's prochoice, but respectful of prolifers; supportive of religion, but not of imposing it. The policy result is a tepid Clintonism, featuring tax credits for the poor, a host of small-bore programs to address everything from worker retraining to teen pregnancy, and a health-care program that resembles Clinton's Hillary-care proposals. On Iraq, he floats a phased but open-ended troop withdrawal. His triangulated positions can seem conflicted: he supports free trade, while deploring its effects on American workers (he opposed the Central American Free Trade Agreement), in the end hoping halfheartedly that more support for education, science and renewable energy will see the economy through the dilemmas of globalization. Obama writes insightfully, with vivid firsthand observations, about politics and the compromises forced on politicians by fund-raising, interest groups, the media and legislative horse-trading. Alas, his muddled, uninspiring proposals bear the stamp of those compromises.
My Review: A curse on Publishers Weekly, because this is the most well-written, soundly thought-out book by a politician that I've ever read. While there were certain points that needed a stronger stand, I walked away respecting the man behind the Senator. Mr. Bad Apologies was supposed to read it too, but I don't know that he ever finished it.
----------
A Changed Man
by Francine Prose
Publishers Weekly: Starred Review. Prose (Blue Angel; The Lives of the Muses) tests assumptions about class, hatred and the possibility of change in her latest novel, a good-natured satire of liberal pieties, the radical right and the fund-raising world. The "changed man" of the title is Vincent Nolan, a 32-year-old tattooed ex-skinhead who appears one morning in the New York offices of World Brotherhood Watch, a foundation headed by Meyer Maslow, a Holocaust survivor. Vincent declares that he has had a personal conversion (never mind that it was triggered by a heavy dose of Ecstasy) and wants to work with the foundation to "save guys like me from becoming guys like me." Meyer takes Vincent on faith—and convinces Bonnie Kalen, the foundation's fund-raiser, to put Vincent up in the suburban home she shares with her two sons, Max, 12, and Danny, 16. Prose tears into this unusual premise with the piercing wit that has become her trademark. Vincent becomes a media darling of sorts, and everyone wants a piece of him: the liberal donors and the television talk shows; Meyer, a figurehead so celebrated that even his close friends kiss up to him; and maybe even divorced Bonnie, who finds herself drawn to Vincent's charms. In more hostile pursuit of Vincent is his cousin Raymond, a member of the Aryan Resistance Movement, from which Vincent stole a truck, drugs and cash. In these circumstances, can a man truly change? And what is change—not only for Vincent but for the other principals as well? Prose doesn't shy away from exposing the vanities and banalities behind the drive to do good. Fortunately, her characters are sturdy enough to bear the weight of the baggage she piles on them. Her lively skewering of a whole cross-section of society ensures that this tale hits comic high notes even as it probes serious issues.
My Review: This was our December-January book club selection, and while I enjoyed it for its amusing take on the Neo-Nazi self-involvement and the hubris of the progressive left, it's not one that blew me away. I probably won't ever pick this book up for a re-read.
Note to self: stop listening to podcasts and stop watching the Sundance Channel and finish reading the 5 books you have going on at the same time. It's getting too complicated to keep all the plots straight, and "watching 1000 movies" sin't going to get you any closer to your 50 Things to Do Before You Die.
Posted by madchen at 11:03 PM | Comments (0)January 15, 2007
Catch as Catch Can
So much for a holiday--I've spent the whole weekend on the Big Idea. Of course, a large portion of that time was also spent in front of the television. There's nothing like trying to make the world a more socially just place with the season premiere of 24 on in the background. I feel like my efforts might be better served switching careers and becoming a screenwriter with the single purpose of elevating the dialogue of major action stars.
In other news, Mr. Angel of the Morning has "decided to buy the cow".
Yes, it's true dear reader, Jessica and Mr. Angel of the Morning are finally, officially, engaged. In honor of this momentus event, I'd like to briefly reminisce about one of my first encounters with Mr. Angel of the Morning.
[Picture it...a bar. Ms. Write Again Soon--with her extraordinarily low alcohol tolerance--is enjoying her third, or possibly fourth, drink of the night. She is surrounded by friends, as well as her sister and her new beau Mr. Angel of the Morning. They have been dating perhaps a few weeks.]
Jessica: [Putting on her coat] Ok then, we'll see you guys later!
Random Friend: You're leaving?
Mr. Angel of the Morning: Yeah, we're going to get going.
Ms. Write Again Soon: Well, have fun you two...and don't get her pregnant...one illegitimate child is all my parents can handle!
Jessica: [speechless, gives Ms. Write Again Soon the "death glare"]
Mr. Angel of the Morning: Um, yeah. 'Night everyone.
So, it wasn't my most charming and welcoming moment. And it was probably a full year before Mr. Angel of the Morning got over that first impression and realized what a truly caring, gentle, loving person I really am.
Posted by madchen at 08:24 PM | Comments (1)January 13, 2007
Am I In a Relationship?
Well, dear reader, I'm a bit confused about my situation.
I spent Thursday night and Friday and half of Saturday with Mr. Pilot. We went out to dinner together, watched TV together, read the newspaper together, slept together, wandered around in towels getting ready for lunch together. He read aloud to me for hours, and we laughed at goofy things like how nipples are divided up in the animal kingdom. (In case you're wondering, the river otter has four.)
It was so comfortable, so sexy, so something I haven't had in years.
But now that I'm home with no established plans to see him again, I'm back to that in-between stage that eerily resembles the First Circle of hell. (The ground is firm, grassy and pleasant and the air is clean and fresh, but you know that the Second Circle--an infernal storm that lashes the Lustful in darkness with rage and punishment--is just around the corner.)
Bah.
Posted by madchen at 09:07 PM | Comments (0)January 11, 2007
Full Circle
So now that I've abandoned monogamy, dear reader, guess who I heard from today?
If you guessed Mr. Pilot, you're right. (I also heard from Mr. FWB and Mr. Doctor, and two new gentlemen whose attributes will be revealed later. But we're focusing on the most ironic part of the day, so bear with me).
Here's how the exhange went:
My email, several days ago: Hey there, now that college football is officially over for the season, your grace period has expired and you owe me a phone call!
His reply, sometime around 2 a.m. last night: You are a very gracious and forgiving soul. :) Perhaps I can find some way to make it up to you. I have my house all to myself from Thursday through Sunday . . . I’ll give you a call tomorrow.
Sure enough, he just called and we arranged to meet up tomorrow night. But...notice that there was no apology, no explanation, no ANYTHING to suggest he recognized his behavior was grossly unsuitable to someone who is supposed to be being monogamous.
There will be a reckoning, and I can't wait to tell you how it goes.
Posted by madchen at 12:40 AM | Comments (2)January 09, 2007
You Get What You Pay For
So I've given up on Mr. Pilot. After all this, he hasn't gotten the message that, once you've (however inadvertantly) committed to monogamy, you're basically required to call at least once a week. And he hasn't. Even after I called him. Twice.
So no more (however indvertant) monogamy for me! I wash my hands of him completely. If he shows back up, so be it. If he doesn't, good riddance to him.
Dear reader, I have to admit that part of the reason I have come to this place of peace about the situation with Mr. Pilot is that I have just returned from a day filled with non-Mr. Pilots. I had a afternoon rendezvous with Mr. Friends with Benefits that once again blew my mind in new and exciting ways. And then I stopped off on the way home to have dinner with Mr. Doctor, who walked a very fine line between fun and creepy. But he took me to a very nice Thai restaurant, so we'll give him the benefit of the doubt. For the moment.
All of which brings me to the point that the title of this blog doesn't really apply.
I didn't get what I paid for with Mr. Pilot, who, after my gracious profferings of affection, seems to have headed for the hills. And I didn't get what I paid for with Mr. FWB, since basically I got more than I gave. And Mr. Doctor sure didn't get what he paid for--picking up the check for dinner and still not getting anything beyond a simple kiss goodnight.
Them's the breaks, I guess.
Posted by madchen at 09:38 PM | Comments (1)January 08, 2007
The Best Things I've Ever Done For Myself
In the spirit of "2007--grab it by the balls", I thought it would be appropriate to figure out the best things I've ever done for myself, in hopes that it will inspire me to go more good things (and avoid the crap ones).
LASIK EYE SURGERY
Why it was the best: Even though it seemed incredibly expensive at the time, getting my eyes fixed has been a miracle. It wasn't that I was completely blind, but waking up in the middle of the night and being able to read the clock across the room is a magnificent thing to behold. And its not like I'm being taken home by a new fella every night, but the ability to spontaneously decide on a sleepover without worrying about whether I had a stockpile of contact solution in the trunk of my car is shining beacon of joy.
What else could inspire such wonders: Admittedly, LASIK was pretty much a one-hit wonder. While there are lots of health-body-related things I'd love (laser hair removal comes to mind), I don't know that there's anything quite comparable to the gift of 20/20 vision.
BUYING A CONDO
Why it was the best: Living on my own, in a delightful place, made me feel like an independent woman of means. Filling it up with my own stuff, arranging it just so, throwing dinner parties--it all made me feel like I was in control of my own life. Even if I wasn't dating anyone fantastic, or really enjoying my job all that much, knowing that I had a place all my own to come home to was enough to make me happy.
What else could inspire such wonders: For starters, getting out of my parents' house would probably make me feel more confident (although would admittedly create more financial stress). There was something about owning a place that was significantly different than renting, and so buying a new place--even if it's out in the boondocks, should be at the top of my list.
THE BIG IDEA
Why it was the best: I admit that it's a little premature to say that the Big Idea is one of the best things I've ever done for myself, but it has been an eye-opening experience. To know that I have the energy and the drive to take an idea and turn it into a thriving business makes me very happy--and has taught me where my strengths and weaknesses are as a businessperson. Still to be determined are the Big Idea's long-term potential and financial reality, but for now I can say that it's been a net positive experience.
What else could inspire such wonders: Getting to the point where the Big Idea is on really solid financial footing is the next big hurdle, and I'm well on my way to a sink-or-swim turning point. I think that with enough hard work and time, 2007 could be the year that it all solidifies. Or else, the year that I realize I need to get a traditional job.
TRAVEL
Why it was the best: Travel is great for two reasons: first, it actually does broaden my horizons, makes me step out of my comfort zone, and allows me to see amazing places that pictures on the internet just don't do justice. But it also allows me to have something special, something to hold on to the way others hold on to their significant others. Ok, so it doesn't keep me warm at night, but knowing that I've climbed Mt. Nemrut in eastern Turkey is consolation for not having a boyfriend. Really, it is.
What else could inspire such wonders: There are so many places left to see that it's a bit overwhelming at times, and can quickly become a bank account disaster. Fortunately, I have gobs of frequent flier miles to use, and so planning a little (say, 4-week) solo getaway this coming fall is a great motivator to work on the Big Idea to ensure it's financial security during my absense. So let's vote: Morocco-Algiers, African Safari, or Argentina-Chile?
NOTES
It's strange that the things I *thought* I would write about ended up not making the list. Breaking up with a particular boyfriend back in college, just weeks before he would have proposed, is something that I think was a good idea--but given how moody I am about the whole relationship thing, perhaps I would have been happier just tying the knot with Mr. Bad Dancer. Who knows? And I thought that giving up my romantic/conservative notions of sex would also rank high--it's certainly benefitted me in the short term. But now as I survey the landscape of available men, I realize that having "fabulous in bed" as a qualification for a meaningful relationship has narrowed down an already microscopic playing field. So perhaps my mother was right: it's better not to know what you're missing.
Posted by madchen at 12:48 PM | Comments (0)January 05, 2007
Why I Hated Today
Today has just been a shitty day. The weather was bad, Mr. Pilot STILL hasn't called me back (the passive-aggressive-bastard-but-maybe-its-me saga continues), I can't seem to get the most menial tasks completed (there are just so MANY of them), and I didn't get a chance to take a shower until just a few minutes ago. Pee-yew, as Ms. Janie would say.
But I didn't really understand my very visceral reaction to the day itself until I came across this little factoid:
Today is National Bird Day.
Enough said. Thank god it's just a day and not Bird Appreciation Month.
Posted by madchen at 06:03 PM | Comments (0)January 04, 2007
Operation Be On Time
So it's been a full three days since I started Operation Be On Time (OBOT) and I'm pleased to report that I have been early (or at least, exactly on time) to every obligation so far. Of course, January 1st was simply a day of recovery with no tasks or appointments--so it was easy. January 2nd was a day of catch-up, where I sat at my desk (and, admittedly, on the couch) for 15 hours and got up to speed on everything I missed the previous week.
But January 3rd, oh ho! Yesterday was the first time that OBOT was really put to the test. I got off to a sloppy start, waking up late again. But thankfully, due to a last-minute cancellation on my schedule, I was in no rush and even managed to arrive 2 minutes early to my lunch meeting.
[Tangent]
I arrived at 12:56 and parked in the garage across the street from the bookstore, where I was meeting my Big Idea contact. The parking space was a 2 hours spot, so I was good until 2:56 p.m.--do you see where this is going? After lunch I went back to the bookstore and bought a couple of Big Idea books, returning to my car at exactly 3:03 p.m. And what did I find?
A $35 parking ticket, issued at 3:01 p.m.
Bastards. I LOATHE the parking gestapo of my fair town, who invariably seem to catch me 2 minutes after my meter expires. I know people who figure that the occasional ticket balances out their obligation to pay, and so never put quarters in the meter. I'm beginning to think they are right, since I spent approximately $90 in parking meter (not "garage") money in 2006, and STILL received $140 in parking tickets (all of which were issued less than 10 minutes over the limit). And in case you don't believe me, let's break the 2006 parking ticket saga down:
-- The $50 ticket I got for parking in a no-parking zone (it was 9:17 and parking became legal at 9:30 a.m., which didn't matter because I had pulled over in an emergency to run into the corner Starbucks to vomit in the bathroom--something about breakfast hasn't agreed with me). I was gone from the car a total of 8 minutes.
-- The $35 ticket I got when I parked in a 1-hour spot, then returned 1:04 minutes later.
-- The $30 ticket I got when I pulled into a spot without noticing the "back-in only" sign (handlily obscured by a massive U-Haul). I was totally paid up that time, which seemed not to affect the cop's decision to write me up at all. Guess I should have noticed I was the only one facing the buildings...
-- The $25 ticket when I put change in a meter, which then turned out to be broken. I figured I was "even" and left for a coffee meeting. When I returned 45 minutes later I had a ticket and the meter was fixed. When I called to explain the situation I was told that unless I had called the "broken meter" number at the time, there was nothing to do but pay up. Grr.
Do you see how innocent I am, how put upon is poor Ms. Write Again Soon?
[/Tangent]
Anyway, back to my point (and I'm going to choose to ignore the fact that getting a parking ticket for an expired meter is related to being "on time"), I was finally on time and then even managed to have a productive day working on Big Idea stuff. One VERY EXCITING development is the launch of the new website, which now has all sorts of bells and whistles that it previously missed. So hurrah for that.
On the downside, my email account seems to be temporarily offline, which means that I'm desperately out of the link. Cut off. Alone in the world.
You would think this would be an incredible opportunity to catch up on work that so far hasn't been, well, caught up to. But it's just so lovely outside (I took the metro to a meeting downtown today--to which I arrived EARLY--and just got back from the .8 mile walk home afterwards) that I think I might go plant myself in a comfy chair positioned in a ray of sunshine and read some of my book club selection. The meeting is next week and I'm WAY behind--and that's no way to play OBOT.
Or perhaps I'll work on the Big Idea. But probably not.
Posted by madchen at 08:00 AM | Comments (2)January 02, 2007
Fun with Pseudo Personality Tests
What Is Your Personality Defect?
Smartass
You are 100% Rational, 85% Extroverted, 71% Brutal, and 71% Arrogant.
You are the Smartass! You are rational, extroverted, brutal, and arrogant. In fact, you could very well be the anti-Christ, as you are almost the exact opposite of everything Jesus was supposed to be. While Jesus says love your enemy, you say love beating the crap out of your enemy. While Jesus raises the dead, you raise hell. While Jesus walks on water, you tend to sink. You probably consider people who are emotional and gentle to be big pussies who are obviously in lesser stature than you. You have many flaws, despite your seeming intelligence and cool-headedness. For instance, you aren't very nice. In fact, you're probably an asshole. And you are conceited and self-centered. Not only that, but you are very loud and vocal about all this, seeing as how you are extroverted. There is no better way to describe you than as a "smartass", I'm afraid. Perhaps just "ass" would do, too. But that's a little less literary and descriptive. At any rate, your main personality defect is the fact that you are self-centered, mean, uncaring, and brutally logical.
To put it less negatively:
1. You are more RATIONAL than intuitive.
2. You are more EXTROVERTED than introverted.
3. You are more BRUTAL than gentle.
4. You are more ARROGANT than humble.
Compatibility:
Your exact opposite is the Emo Kid. Other personalities you would probably get along with are the Capitalist Pig, the Braggart, and the Sociopath.
Posted by madchen at 09:53 PM | Comments (2)January 01, 2007
Write Again Soon in 2006
This past year has been a fun one for Write Again Soon:
There were 72,158 visits to Write Again Soon. The "average" visitor visited the site 2.53 times over the year. The vast majority of visitors came from the United States, with the European Union and Australia coming in 2nd and 3rd. I had more visits from Kuwait (329) than I did from Norway (279), and even got one visit from Bhutan.
Mr. Bad Apologies was by far my best referring blog (1,158), with Ms. NYC Rouge coming in second (378)--which is strange because I have much more salacious tales coming from Rouge. Of all Write Again Soon's visitors this year, 2,077 people (7.3%) added this blog to their "favorites".
Top search terms for 2006 included:
-- Stari decisis (or some variation)
-- Amos Lee ethnicity (or some variation)
-- skinny dipping
-- 50 things to do before I die (or some variation)
-- I hate my thesis
Let's hope that in 2007, people end up visiting Write Again Soon for things like:
-- How I Made My First Million
-- Single No More
-- Successful Big Ideas
-- Mind-Blowing Sex Techniques
I'll get to work on those immediately. And to all the readers who visited Write Again Soon in 2006, Happy New Year!
Posted by madchen at 06:42 PM | Comments (0)New Years Resolutions
It's a problem that's plagued me for years, and one that's just gotten worse in the last 2 years. It's embarrassing, shameful, and entirely of my own making. And so, dear reader, I have one tiny, simple, straightforward goal for 2007--one that, if I can manage it, will completely revolutionize my life.
Be On Time
I admit it, I have a terrible habit of showing up 5-10 minutes late (and occasionally more) for everything. It begins in the morning, when I get up a solid 20 minutes later than planned...and then dawdle over email when I should be jumping in the shower and getting a start on the day. Because I haven't found the time to stay organized, the process of getting out the door (or parked at my desk for the first conference call of the day) is unnecessarily complicated, and I usually end up dashing out the door with a crucial bit of information missing (like directions), which then puts me even farther behind.
Because I'm always late, I rarely take public transportation--since I can't find the 20 minutes necessary to walk to the nearest metro station. So I end up paying exhorbitant parking rates, which then makes me feel like I need to work MORE hours to pay for it all.
Because I'm trying to juggle a dozen projects at once, I'm chronically re-prioritizing tasks throughout the day. The nature of the Big Idea means that I need to be immediately available when potential clients come calling, and between current paying projects and business development things, I rarely have a "big picture" view of where things are going.
By the time I get back to the house in the evening, I already have a list of over-due tasks, reminders, and obligations. I end up working throughout the night, which means that I go to bed around 2 a.m.--making the alarm clock beeping a most hated noise, and going far to explain why I start off slow in the morning.
All in all, it's a vicous cycle, and so my goal this year is to commit only to the things I can complete in good standing, to allocate enough minutes to getting to places on time, and to be prepared when I do arrive to begin work (or fun) without scrambling for additional information.
Let Operation Be On Time (OBOT) begin.
(And dear reader, help me create a feeling of solidarity by sharing your own New Years Resolutions in the comments section below. Remember that you can leave the name/email/website sections blank if you'd like to protect your anonynmity. Mr. Bastish has fixed the comment problem, and so everything should run smoothly!)
Posted by madchen at 04:42 PM | Comments (1)
