Makeover-Makeover . . .

We just did a Mary Kay party as a favor to a friend of a friend. I am now obsessed with green eyeshadow and the prospect of owning a lipstick called "raisinberry." So, naturally, I spent money on makeup. Le sigh. I'm going to need a much bigger train case for all of my beauty products. I'm considering this a humanitarian effort because my spending money on makeup means that, eventually, Miss Sheila will get a car. My vanity brings good to other people. All is well with the world.

Yadda Yadda Yadda

This is the elaborate construction of characters if our lives were like Seinfeld . . .

Regulars:
Jen= Jerry
Jen is Jerry because she is the most balanced out of the four of us, but is randomly overcritical. Also, the world revolves around her.
Heather= Elaine
Heather is Elaine because she has never had a successful relationship with a guy, and everyone she meets think that, for some reason, she hates them. She's a pusher who hates The English Patient.
Stevi= George Costanza
Stevi is George for soooo many reasons. She is inappropriately possessive of "her seat" in Campbell Hall (J8), and sometimes irrational about inconsequential things, like finding the proper comeback.
Nikki Ferry=Kramer
Nikki is Kramer because she stumbles occasionally, is the funniest of our foursome, and works at Bargain Network . . . which is almost like Kramerica.

Recurring Characters:
Richie=Newman
Richie is Newman because he and Kramer and the schemers of the group. Also, sometimes Richie wishes Nikki would just drop dead.
Raffi= Babu
Arguably the most "ethnic" of our group, we are in continual fear that the current government will deport him because he looks like a "terrorist." Also, like Babu, Raffi has aspirations in the business world. We really hope he doesn't get deported.
Chris= Putty
Chris completely matches the randomness of Putty. Is he is all that is man? All signs point to yes.
Kevin= Banya
Banya and Jerry have a love/hate relationship, just like Jen and Kevin. Banya, like Kev, is very indecisive about his set and continually annoys Jerry by asking him for advice.
Dani= Susan
Dani just looks like Susan. And Stevi is probably cheap enough to buy Dani the most toxic of stationary glues.

Guest Stars:
David= George's Mom
Ted= George's Dad
Dan= Soup Nazi
Derek= J. Peterman
Greg= Joe DaVola
Britney= Man Hands
Segway Girl= Bubble Boy
Naked Jessica= The Girl Who Doesn't Wear a Bra
Cara= The Girl Who Got Gonnerhea from a Tractor
Gina= The Sidler
Marisa= Alternate George (From when Elaine goes into that weird alternate universe.)
Frankie= Darren (Kramer's personal secretary at Kramerica, who Kramer tries to guide. Just as Nikki has taken Frankie under her wing at Bargain Network.)
Nick Lafferty= Barry Prophet (The guy that the foursome think is on coke because he's allergic to Kramer's sweater.)
Nikki's Mom= Babs Kramer (Because if Nikki is Kramer, than her mommy should be, um, her mommy.)
Scott Ferry= Bob Sacamano (The guy Kramer always talks about but viewer's never see. Just like Nikki's brother.)
Irish Guy from Heather's "Psych Class"= Captain Nemo (Because Elaine once gave him a fake number, just as Heather gave the Irish guy a fake major.)
Phil the Movie Guy= Celia (Who Jerry only dates to play with her toys.)
Crazy Jesus Guy= Christy (Who always wears the same dress, just as he always wears the same clothes.)

I Don't Do Camp.

A little bit of background to put this post in context: I was supposed to go to Italy last summer as part of the Lion's Club Intl. Youth Exchange Program. And then people in China got SARS. And people in Europe got scared because they do not have a large wet thing separating them from China. So, the majority of European YE programs were cancelled for the summer. Rather than just telling the Chinese kids, "No, I'm sorry, but you cannot attend this years Youth Exchange because you pose a serious health threat to all others in attendance" (because that's discrimination), they decided to cancel the whole kit and caboodle. Fair, sure, but as a result I had to slave away at Hollywood Video for 5 weeks longer than I should have.

So, background out of the way, I am going on the Youth Exchange program to Italy for certain this year. Now, what I've always been a little aprehensive about concerning this trip is the fact that I have to spend a week at camp. I've never been to camp in America, let alone a foriegn country. If I can't handle stupid camp kids here, how the hell am I supposed to deal with stupid camp kids in Europe. But today, all my fears were quelled. Quelled with an email from Lion Alfredo, owner of a small, lovely hotel in the Alps who runs the so-called "camp" program in Italy. I am staying for a full week in the comfort of the Apli & Golf Hotel in Bormio, which is evidently somewhere in the Alps, near Lago di Como. Go to the website link, look at the pictures and be jealous of the glories of the Italian Alps and my quaint little hotel.

The only downside to this lovely hotel/camp thing, is the prospect of hiking. Apparently, we will be hiking. A lot. Lots and lots of hiking. In the Alps. In the summer. This I am not looking forward to. I am looking forward to the promise of a "thermal centre" (which I understand to be a kind of sauna-like thing) and visits to breweries and wineries. I am also looking forward to impressing the natives with my superior knowledge of their language, thereby making the other Americans look silly.

Swirly Blood Sadness

I am very sad today because I couldn't donate blood. My iron count was 1% below where it needs to be to donate. So, I'm back across the threshold of anemia--when I wasn't in December--and oh so sad because that means I didn't get to see all the swirly blood leaving my body. And I love swirly blood.

But I don't love anemia. I am apparently always in this state of flux. I sit continually on the borderline of health and anemia, so it flucctuates far too often. I may never get to see the swirly blood unless I start having labwork done whenever I feel like a rush of swirly blood happiness.

The only plus side of anemia is that its a really great exuse to have people wait on you all the time. So everyone else should donate blood because I cannot. You must all know the joys of watching the swirly blood. Consider it a sacrifice towards my well-being. (Plus, blood banks really need the life juice of the young. Give them your life juice. For me.)

Shameless Self Promotion

So I've been nominated for Vice President, Secretary and Director of WETT. And I can only run for two positions. And I decided that I would actually be a really kickass secretary. My case is argued thusly:
1. I fucking love office supplies. A secretary would definitely need to love office supplies. And I sure do.
2. I maintain my blog adequately and have learned to change templates and all that, so I think I can probably power the WETT website off of Blogger for easy update access.
3. I have an eye for design: I venture that I can make a rockin' sweetass program and flyers because I like pretty things. Pretty things like the girl on my blog.
So, seriously, vote me for WETT secretary. Because I will kick so much ass.

Oooooooh . . . pretties . . .

After growing steadily jealous of everyone else I know having interesting, original-looking blogs, I have chosen to join the club. I am not a fan of the hard-to-read, super-skinny little font boxes, but I absolutely love the graphic on this far too much to give it up just yet. She's so pretty. Now that I have joined your ranks, you creative blog-skin lovers, I will probably change this kind of often. Kind of.

Penny Lane

I am so glad that I was able to do the scene for Marcus. It was probably one of the best theatrical experiences of my life. It was the most professional work I've ever done for anything, and that's probably because there were so few of us there. Just me, Camden, Marcus, Dana and a camera.

Meeting my William Miller made me feel immediately comfortable as Penny Lane. Camden is the most genial person. He's very amicable and exceptionally well-spoken, and yet so utterly quirky. All that aside, he's a very good actor and takes his work seriously. Being cute and flirtatious is for rehearsal time and between takes. (I took off my jacket to reveal my backless, strapless shirt at one point during our line running sessions, at which he said, "Oh, good. Now I won't have to act.") There is none of that with him while in character. Being so likeable makes him, of course, very easy to work with. So I think our rapport played well onscreen, despite having no rehearsals and having never met before.

Marcus found the most amazing location for the scene to be shot. The script dictates that it's backstage at an outdoor concert somewhere in Boston. We filmed in the bowels of the LMU distribution center because the winding corridors and massive loading dock area really look like the loading areas of a stadium venue. We played a few lines off the ladder at the loading dock, which I think was the point where I really started getting into it. I just hope that my ladder work turns out as well on film as I felt it did.

In addition to filming, Marcus took me to see Hurlyburly at the MET theatre (overall good production, but I'll probably forget it in favor of the film), we had lunch with Kate and Nolan, and I spent too much money on makeup. (My excuse is that I needed two particular items for the film, and the rest was impulse buy.)

Requiem for a Dead Cat

Sadly, Patches Devourer of Souls fell into the shadows sometime on Friday night. It was pretty sad watching the cat in those last hours. He theoretically should have died six years ago (he's 19), but he was never allowed to run out of the house and die on his own as cats often do. So he spent his last few hours wallowing in pain, slowly dragging himself off his dingy kitty bed to die under the heater because Fernando wouldn't take him to the vet to have him put down. I walked by the cat several times thinking he had gone quietly under, only to see him lift his matted head and cry out a cry that seemed to say, "Please step on my neck and end my misery!" Finally, when I walked to the bathroom to get my pills, I noticed that the cat's limp, skeletal body had been replaced by a cat-angel candle holder with a lit votive in it and two Tibetan idols. Patches Devourer of Souls, who lived far longer than any cat should, probably having spent the last six years in the equivilant of cat purgatory, devours souls no longer. For his little kitty soul is free.

"What kind of beer?" --Penny Lane (Kate Hudson), Almost Famous

I'm all out of ideas for my current art history paper-writing endeavor. The good news is, however, that it's due Thursday morning at 9 and I am already on my 4th page out of the 4-5 page requirement. So I break from this to discuss Almost Famous.

Marcus's cinematography/editing project is to film a scene from a pre-existing film in his own way. So he chose Almost Famous, Penny and William's confrontation scene. ("You're too sweet for rock'n'roll." "Sweet? Where do you get off?") I'd made the decision to visit him this weekend, and he told me a few days ago that he was probably going to film the scene while I'm down there. Then he forayed into his explanatory mode, which to me always sounds slightly apologetic if the explanation involves me in any way at all. He told me that he isn't asking me to be Penny Lane because he already used me for a project and he doesn't want the class to think he isn't using actors. And he said all this as though he expected me to be upset that I wouldn't get to be Penny, as though it were a betrayal of the metaphor we always use about me being to him what this "Penny Lane" was to Cameron Crowe. And then yesterday, he called me and asked me to be Penny. The people he wanted couldn't do it. Time conflicts and whatnot.

But here's my reservation: no one in their right mind would ever cast me as Penny Lane. I do not have the right look. At all. I'm not appropriate for the era, and I don't know how to do this character in any way other than Kate Hudson's portrayal. I'm too dark for that kind of rock'n'roll. I'm so much more believable as Toni Colette's role in Velvet Goldmine. I need to be a character from a different movie about rock in the 70's. One that isn't so reliant on that hippie look. I don't think this is going to turn out very well for my part.

"I know all about your valhalla of decadence." --Elaine (Frances McDormand), Almost Famous

This weekend is a spring visiting weekend for prospective UCSB students. There are parents and high school seniors everywhere. Fucking everywhere. It's scary. Last night, as my roommates and our friends set out a drinkin' prior to a really rockin' 80's themed party, we found one of these prospective freshmen among us. He was visiting a friend of our friend, who joined us in our revelry. I'm sure his impression of our college experience here is . . . stellar. Here's some of my advice to him after about 8 shots of Southern Comfort:

"Listen, Taryn, I don't want you to think that this is all we do, okay? We don't always live in this valhalla of drunken decadence. I mean, come on, look at me. I'm ridiculously drunk and I can still say the word 'valhalla.' That's amazing, right? I mean, I'm an English major, a drunken English major and I can still say 'valhalla.' So, I mean, that's pretty good right? I've said 'valhalla,' um, a few times now and I am, what, 8 shots deep? So, yeah. My vocabulary is pretty unaffected if I can still say 'valhalla' while drunk."