 Monday Musings |
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Ah, the weekend. Friday night I had sushi with Karla. It's a blur of crunchy rolls, stir-fried vegetables, edamame, and miso soup. Later that night, I crawled into bed with a tape of various Broadway stuff, from Rent bootlegs to Forbidden Broadway. It was hard to make anything out in the Rent bootleg except for balls of light onstage, but it was fun to listen to it anyway. It brought back a lot of memories. I was impressed at how strong Anthony Rapp's voice is even if it's not what you would call traditionally appealing, and I was reminded how randomly Adam Pascal's voice would just veer off into pitches unknown. I mean, I'm not dogging him, because if I had to howl those songs every night I probably would have screamed myself tonedeaf, too, but it's just funny. Really, they are all so good. Were. Whatever. I got chills during La Vie Boheme in spite of myself, and during Gilles Chaisson's initial "Will I lose my dignity, will someone care, will I wake tomorrow from this nightmare," I remembered how my sister and I looked at each other in awe and declared that moment to be the vocal highlight of the entire show. Which is a really close contest with the entirety of Jesse L. Martin's "I'll Cover You (Reprise)." Anyway, I really could go on forever about my Rent musings, but I'll spare you. Oh! And I watched Joan of Arcadia, which is definitely my favorite new show of the season. Never in 1,000,000 years did I think I would like this show, but I not only like it, I decidedly love it. The acting is first rate. Amber Tamblyn has really grown into a good actress, and overall, it's just brilliantly cast from the regulars to the guest stars. Eliza Dushku's brother played a guest spot in the last episode. Even the wise Deborah, who is recapping it at TWoP, loves it, and Deborah is not an easy sell. (She also recaps The West Wing, and if you are familiar with her recaps or forum moderation, you know she does not suffer fools gladly.) I am telling you that this is just an excellent show. It is nothing like 7th Heaven or Touched by an Angel, so do not make the mistake of associating it with those shows. It is top notch. Here's a good article about it in Time. At about 4:30 Saturday morning, I woke up and decided to let the dogs out for a pee break in the hopes that it would enable them (and therefore me) to sleep in a little bit. So out they went, and they trotted back into their crates, and I got back in bed and watched some more Forbidden Broadway, and I could hear the cats hissing wildly on the floor beside the bed, but I just assumed they were having one of their weird nocturnal snafus, but it was relentless, so I leaned over to inspect what they were fighting about, and there was Daisy! Standing silently and practically nose to nose with Khaki, who I think was about to have a small heart attack. I scooped Daisy up and put her back to bed and petted the cats who finally calmed down. Usually Daisy barks spasmodically at the cats, but maybe she thought if she was quiet enough not to wake me up, she could eat them undisturbed. Most of Saturday was taken up by tailgating. I ate my weight in hummus, cookies, and Mexican 7-layer dip and drank my weight in a giant raspberry margarita and some cheap beer. The game was pretty fun, though I get quickly bored, I cannot tell a lie. Sunday morning, I enjoyed my Sunday morning ritual of Ebert and Roeper (they both liked the new Disney movie about the bears) and 90210 reruns (Kelly got hospitalized for being a cokehead, David dumped Valerie, and there was some kind of Sex-Off subplot that was disturbing on all levels). I then went grocery shopping at Target, got a strawberry smoothie and a cranberry orange muffin from CC's, printed baby shower invitations, went to the Outlet mall with Eva, ate dinner with her and her husband, fed grits to her baby and then cleaned them out of her nostrils and eyelashes and wondered again how my friends do it, came home, read part of John Adams which is REALLY hard for me to do without bursting into to songs in my head from 1776, and watched Alias. My love-hate relationship with Alias continues. It just ... makes my chest hurt. Not the action sequences, or the convoluted plots, but the goddamn motherfucking Sydney-Vaughn storyline, for motherfuck's fucking sake. It actually causes me physical pain. I really have no idea why. Maybe I just have a visceral reaction to Michael Vartan in manner of my visceral reaction to Scott Speedman. I think Michael Vartan as Vaughn has replaced Scott Speedman as Ben for me. I just cannot deal with these love triangles. 
And the fact that Jennifer Garner was involved in a love triangle on Felicity with her co-star Scott Foley as Noel and then they were married in real life and now she is involved in a love triangle on another show and is now involved in real life with her co-star Michael Vartan and for all we know there was a real life love triangle between Garner, Foley, and Vartan ... is really daunting to me. I know it's really stupid but it is. And that dream of his last night? The way he was looking at Sydney? I mean, he was looking at her with so much pain and regret and emotion and love. And when he woke up for real and saw his wife? He had no such look on his face. I mean, Michael Vartan! O, fair stabbed married to the wrong woman Vaughn! I love you. (Every week, I tell myself I am never watching it again because I get so upset, but I always do. I think something might be seriously wrong with me.)  About this time in ...
© Copyright 2003 elb |
(Can you tell what DVDs I'm making my way through?) |
