It's late, the cat's sleeping on my lap, I'm out of new books to read....
For my own enjoyment, I've put together a list of my favorite dance scenes in films and TV shows. I love love love it when dancers are hilariously awkward and those are the clips I started looking for but pretty soon I was watching all my old favorite dance numbers.
Here are my favorite (excluding all those that don't have clips on YouTube, anyway) dances.
AWKWARD DANCES:
The master of dance, Fred Astaire, drunk. From the 1942 movie Holiday Inn.
Thandie Newton and Gerald Butler in Rocknrolla, planning a heist.
From Flight of the Conchords - Brett dances when he's angry and he's very angry now.
This is pretty much exactly the way I dance now. Except, you know, without guys lifting me up. Or rhythm. I don't bother with that stuff. (Mostly because I don't have any.)
Ellen, before she started dancing EVERY SINGLE DAY on her talk show.
Abigail Breslin's dance at the beauty pageant in Little Miss Sunshine.
My brother and I learned this dance from Perfect Strangers and used to do it all the time and every now and then, we'll do it just to keep in practice. The end is my favorite bit. Usually, I'm the one who gets carried but once in a while, we switch things up and as soon as he jumps into my arms, we both end up on the ground.
Another Fred Astaire classic, from Swing Time. His character, a professional dancer, has to pretend he can't dance so he can meet Ginger Rogers' character, a dance instructor.
Later, Astaire shows off what he's learned from Ginger Rogers. Infinitely less awkward.
I had to leave out that epitome of awkward dancers, Napoleon Dynamite because the only clip I could find starts automatically and I think that's obnoxious. If you want to watch it, it's here.
OTHER AWESOME DANCE SCENES:
That moment in The Fisher King when Robin Williams' character spots the love of his life in Grand Central Station.
This clip from The Fifth Element could have gone either way - the Blue Diva has some incredibly lame dance moves but Milla is nothing but awesome.
The Cell Block Tange from Chicago. Sexy, funny, brilliantly choreographed. Really, the entire movie is phenomenal. It's hard to choose just one song.
The always magical Singin' In The Rain. Happiest number ever.
I was torn between this clip and Fred and Ginger dancing to Cheek to Cheek but in the end I chose this one because her dress is prettier.
El Tango de Roxanne from Moulin Rouge. I could (and have) watch this scene over and over. Everything about it is just perfect. This particular clip is different from the film version - it's the entire song but the clip focuses on the dancers, not showing the scenes with Nicole Kidman.
Finally, two clips from my favorite canceled TV show, Pushing Daisies. I cheated a litte here - there's not much dancing but they're still magical musical moments.
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Filthy Flashbacks
Tonight was the night I began my Massive Picture Project. I'm going to be scanning and then saving onto disc all the photos I have on paper. After all, paper may fade but DVD is forever. I started with a pile of pictures that I have floating loose in a box and I was surprised by some of the stuff that turned up. This, for example:
I know what you're thinking. You're, like, "What is she wearing? And why is she happy about it? Why is that guy so dirty? And most importantly, why would she allow herself to be photographed like that?"
Okay, maybe you're not thinking that but I'll explain anyway: I was playing a townie on the short-lived HBO series Carnivale. It was for Acting Purposes. Back in 2002 I did extra work on movies and TV shows and I was working a lot. That was how I supported myself for a year and this picture is one of the very few that I have from that time. I was pretty happy to find it, even if it does require some 'splaining.
Here's another one, from The O.C.
See? I really wasn't homeless.
I know what you're thinking. You're, like, "What is she wearing? And why is she happy about it? Why is that guy so dirty? And most importantly, why would she allow herself to be photographed like that?"
Okay, maybe you're not thinking that but I'll explain anyway: I was playing a townie on the short-lived HBO series Carnivale. It was for Acting Purposes. Back in 2002 I did extra work on movies and TV shows and I was working a lot. That was how I supported myself for a year and this picture is one of the very few that I have from that time. I was pretty happy to find it, even if it does require some 'splaining.
Here's another one, from The O.C.
See? I really wasn't homeless.
Monday, September 21, 2009
Throw another shrimp on the.... Eh, whatever.
I am a very lucky person. Like, super lucky. Like, going-to-Australia-for-ten-days-for-free kind of lucky. That's how lucky I am. An old friend of mine moved to Australia a few years ago, flies all over the world for work, racks up frequent flier miles, generously offered them to me and I generously accepted. I AM GOING TO AUSTRALIA!!!
The idea for the trip came up last year but because of my wacko job situation, I couldn't even consider it. Now things are stable, the job isn't going anywhere, the neighbor can watch the cat, and I can fly half-way round the world practically worry-free. I'll head out of LAX on November 7th and return on the 18th.
Unlike my trip to Paris, I'll have a guide in my friend who's lived in Melbourne for a while and knows about all the cool places to see. Not that wandering blind through Paris wasn't fun - cause it was - but there were moments here and there when I wondered if I'd ever find my way out of whatever alley/airport/train station/neighborhood I happened to be in. More than once, I was convinced that they'd find me and my over-sized backpack twenty years later, hunched over a trash fire in some forgotten corner of the Gare du Nord, roasting pigeons and muttering to myself.
ANYWAY, that's not going to happen in Australia. And if it does, at least I'll have some company.
The Explosive Neil and I are going to The Cat and the Fiddle tonight to say goodbye to a former co-worker. I haven't seen this girl in a while but I'm glad I'll have a chance to see her off. My favorite memory of her was the time I took her out for her birthday. This was a few years ago and she'd only been in LA a couple of months. She didn't know very many people so I invited everyone I knew to meet us at a bar in Hollywood. Half an hour into the party, she was very, very drunk. This was completely my fault. She told me she was done after a couple of drinks and I wouldn't listen. Three drinks after that, we were outside and I was holding her hair back while she threw up all over the sidewalk. After some copious vomiting, she straightened up, looked blearily around, and said, "This is amazing. I feel just like Bukowski. Thank you."
That's what happens when you get literary geeks drunk in Hollywood.
The idea for the trip came up last year but because of my wacko job situation, I couldn't even consider it. Now things are stable, the job isn't going anywhere, the neighbor can watch the cat, and I can fly half-way round the world practically worry-free. I'll head out of LAX on November 7th and return on the 18th.
Unlike my trip to Paris, I'll have a guide in my friend who's lived in Melbourne for a while and knows about all the cool places to see. Not that wandering blind through Paris wasn't fun - cause it was - but there were moments here and there when I wondered if I'd ever find my way out of whatever alley/airport/train station/neighborhood I happened to be in. More than once, I was convinced that they'd find me and my over-sized backpack twenty years later, hunched over a trash fire in some forgotten corner of the Gare du Nord, roasting pigeons and muttering to myself.
ANYWAY, that's not going to happen in Australia. And if it does, at least I'll have some company.
The Explosive Neil and I are going to The Cat and the Fiddle tonight to say goodbye to a former co-worker. I haven't seen this girl in a while but I'm glad I'll have a chance to see her off. My favorite memory of her was the time I took her out for her birthday. This was a few years ago and she'd only been in LA a couple of months. She didn't know very many people so I invited everyone I knew to meet us at a bar in Hollywood. Half an hour into the party, she was very, very drunk. This was completely my fault. She told me she was done after a couple of drinks and I wouldn't listen. Three drinks after that, we were outside and I was holding her hair back while she threw up all over the sidewalk. After some copious vomiting, she straightened up, looked blearily around, and said, "This is amazing. I feel just like Bukowski. Thank you."
That's what happens when you get literary geeks drunk in Hollywood.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Can I get a refund on this brain? It's not working right...
Image via Wikipedia
ACTUAL THOUGHT PROCESS WHILE I WAS DRIVING HOME TONIGHT. I was alone:
"La la la, la la la What a nice night. Oooh - smells like popcorn! Where is that coming from? Mnn. Smells delicious. It's really a strong smell.... Where IS it coming from? I should have already passed.... Did someone pour popcorn into my engine? Is the heat making it pop? IS THERE POPCORN IN MY ENGINE? Is my car going to break? That's kind of clever... Wait... What's that smell that people smell right before they have a stroke? Is it popcorn? It's burned something... Toast, maybe. OR MAYBE IT WAS BURNT POPCORN!!! Am I about to have a stroke? Should I pull over? OH GOD, IS IT BURNT POPCORN?!?!?"
And that's how it went for a little while until I realized that it had, in fact, been a little while and the stroke hadn't started yet. Then everything was fine again.
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
So, erm.... I'm still here....
Wow - the last entry promised that I would keep up with my blogging and then there's Radio Silence for six weeks. Sorry about that.
It's been a very crazy, very busy, very good six weeks. I've been five weeks into a job that I'm very happy with and about two weeks into living with a kitten that is very slowly learning that people NEED TO SLEEP AT NIGHT.
I don't have any pictures of the job yet, but I can show you a picture of a person that has the same job title as me.
That's Joan. She's in Mad Men and while we're both office managers, she has much better clothing than me and it KILLS ME. This is a situation that will be remedied.
That is Ferris. He's named after my favorite carnival ride, not the Bueller. I took this picture the first day he was in my apartment and if you look past the filthiness, you can clearly make out his deep distrust of me. This distrust was justified the next day when I gave him his first bath. It took about a week but we've become friends now. He's still shy and will hide out in my closet whenever anyone comes to visit but when I'm alone, and he's awake, he'll come by for some head scratchies before he gets back to work - systematically destroying everything I own. I don't have any other pictures of him yet but I'll try and get a few that are slightly less demonic.
You'd think that after weeks of silence I'd have so much to say but I don't. Now that I'm sitting here thinking of all the things that have been going on this month, my mind has gone completely blank. I saw some great shows (Jarvis Cocker was amazing!), a few fun movies (I loved 500 Days of Summer), went on a few fantastic dates (I saved one of the targets from the shooting range - turns out I have some skill with a handgun and in the inevitable zombie apocalypse, I will totally save your butt and/or brains), and have spent a lot of time at work, learning the ins and outs of running a successful business.
It's been a very crazy, very busy, very good six weeks. I've been five weeks into a job that I'm very happy with and about two weeks into living with a kitten that is very slowly learning that people NEED TO SLEEP AT NIGHT.
I don't have any pictures of the job yet, but I can show you a picture of a person that has the same job title as me.
That's Joan. She's in Mad Men and while we're both office managers, she has much better clothing than me and it KILLS ME. This is a situation that will be remedied.
That is Ferris. He's named after my favorite carnival ride, not the Bueller. I took this picture the first day he was in my apartment and if you look past the filthiness, you can clearly make out his deep distrust of me. This distrust was justified the next day when I gave him his first bath. It took about a week but we've become friends now. He's still shy and will hide out in my closet whenever anyone comes to visit but when I'm alone, and he's awake, he'll come by for some head scratchies before he gets back to work - systematically destroying everything I own. I don't have any other pictures of him yet but I'll try and get a few that are slightly less demonic.You'd think that after weeks of silence I'd have so much to say but I don't. Now that I'm sitting here thinking of all the things that have been going on this month, my mind has gone completely blank. I saw some great shows (Jarvis Cocker was amazing!), a few fun movies (I loved 500 Days of Summer), went on a few fantastic dates (I saved one of the targets from the shooting range - turns out I have some skill with a handgun and in the inevitable zombie apocalypse, I will totally save your butt and/or brains), and have spent a lot of time at work, learning the ins and outs of running a successful business.
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Puple Rain and organ harvesting
It's been a few weeks since I've updated - I'm not so good with the blogging, lately. Especially since I do this primarily for my grandmother (Hi, Granma!) and she's joined Facebook, which I update a little more frequently than this blog. I am going to continue blogging, though. I've discovered that I enjoy telling little stories here and I like having good memories of my friends and family so easily accessible to them*
The last three weeks have been mostly about job-hunting, anyway. I've had extrordinarily bad luck when it comes to employment this year and, unfortunately, the last job has not broken the streak. I'm still angry with the whole thing so I'm not going to get into it - you can only rant about the same thing so many times and all my friends have already been subject to my job-related Righteous Indignation. I'm even starting to bore myself and when you're as self-absorbed as I am, that's not an easy thing to do.
Last week was a break for me. The adorable TAFKAM bought me a ticket to fly out and stay a few days with him and I had a wonderful time. We had lots of Good Talks, went to museums and galleries, I helped him make Art, we went drinking with friends, played with a Wii, discovered that we are just as competitive now as we were when we were six, proved that my Wii Fit skills are infinitely superior to his, and visited our favorite cousin. It was a fantastic time. He's offered his apartment to me, should my financial situation not improve soon, and I'm seriously considering it. We get along well, I really like San Francisco, and it would definitely help my personal economic crisis. The thing that keeps me from packing up and shipping out is knowing that in San Francisco, I could never afford to live alone. I love living alone. I love it so much that I'd live alone even if I married. Future Husband will ideally be cool with this.
Back in LA again, I've resumed the hunt for Job, hung out with friends, and last night, attended a Purple Rain party. I'd only been invited the day before and I've never seen the film so instead of dressing like Prince, I wore a purple skirt, black top, tights, heels, and a tiara
Meeting a guys friends for the first time is usually pretty nerve-wracking. Meeting them while they're all dressed as Prince during the Purple Rain era is magical. I had a fantastic time, ate tasty cheese with crackers, and finally got to see something everyone my age seems to have seen a million times. One of the Kids In The Hall was there, too, and because I expect everyone to be my personal performing seal, I was expecting lots of funny stuff from the guy - he's a famous comedian, fercryingoutloud - but he was pretty quiet. Sat in the corner, watched the film with minimal commentary, left with his posse when it was over. Apparently, he saves the good stuff for when the cameras are rolling.
Today, I have no idea what I'm doing. A girl I used to work with that I've barely spoken to in over a year sent me a text message a couple of days ago, asking me to show up at a certain adress at four o'clock today. Wear whatever I want, bring whomever I'd like, and no, she isn't going to tell me what it's all about. Mysterious. I'm fairly certain I won't be kidnapped by white slavers or have my organs removed and sold in the black market but just in case, I've given the address to a few reliable friends. Should they not hear from me by the end of the day, the troops will mobilize.
I'll let you know what happens, assuming, of course, nothing happens to my fingers.
*And me - my feeble brain can only retain so much. It seems six months is about my limit when it comes to Remembering Things. Every now and then, I'll look back over something I've written, say, last year, and be surprised at what I was up to then.
The last three weeks have been mostly about job-hunting, anyway. I've had extrordinarily bad luck when it comes to employment this year and, unfortunately, the last job has not broken the streak. I'm still angry with the whole thing so I'm not going to get into it - you can only rant about the same thing so many times and all my friends have already been subject to my job-related Righteous Indignation. I'm even starting to bore myself and when you're as self-absorbed as I am, that's not an easy thing to do.
Last week was a break for me. The adorable TAFKAM bought me a ticket to fly out and stay a few days with him and I had a wonderful time. We had lots of Good Talks, went to museums and galleries, I helped him make Art, we went drinking with friends, played with a Wii, discovered that we are just as competitive now as we were when we were six, proved that my Wii Fit skills are infinitely superior to his, and visited our favorite cousin. It was a fantastic time. He's offered his apartment to me, should my financial situation not improve soon, and I'm seriously considering it. We get along well, I really like San Francisco, and it would definitely help my personal economic crisis. The thing that keeps me from packing up and shipping out is knowing that in San Francisco, I could never afford to live alone. I love living alone. I love it so much that I'd live alone even if I married. Future Husband will ideally be cool with this.
Back in LA again, I've resumed the hunt for Job, hung out with friends, and last night, attended a Purple Rain party. I'd only been invited the day before and I've never seen the film so instead of dressing like Prince, I wore a purple skirt, black top, tights, heels, and a tiara
Cover of Purple Rain (Two-Disc Special Edition)
Meeting a guys friends for the first time is usually pretty nerve-wracking. Meeting them while they're all dressed as Prince during the Purple Rain era is magical. I had a fantastic time, ate tasty cheese with crackers, and finally got to see something everyone my age seems to have seen a million times. One of the Kids In The Hall was there, too, and because I expect everyone to be my personal performing seal, I was expecting lots of funny stuff from the guy - he's a famous comedian, fercryingoutloud - but he was pretty quiet. Sat in the corner, watched the film with minimal commentary, left with his posse when it was over. Apparently, he saves the good stuff for when the cameras are rolling.
Today, I have no idea what I'm doing. A girl I used to work with that I've barely spoken to in over a year sent me a text message a couple of days ago, asking me to show up at a certain adress at four o'clock today. Wear whatever I want, bring whomever I'd like, and no, she isn't going to tell me what it's all about. Mysterious. I'm fairly certain I won't be kidnapped by white slavers or have my organs removed and sold in the black market but just in case, I've given the address to a few reliable friends. Should they not hear from me by the end of the day, the troops will mobilize.
I'll let you know what happens, assuming, of course, nothing happens to my fingers.
*And me - my feeble brain can only retain so much. It seems six months is about my limit when it comes to Remembering Things. Every now and then, I'll look back over something I've written, say, last year, and be surprised at what I was up to then.
Sunday, June 28, 2009
will work for clothes.
The new job is kind of awesome. It's not what I want to be doing for the rest of my life but it will pay the rent and I'm having a fantastic time while I'm there. Last night, there were three shows, two dance performances and one theater thing, all of them wildly different and all of them amazing. After the final show, and at the end of my shift, I took a picture with terrifying clowns, and another picture with a giant snake around my neck. Both the clowns and the snake were part of the final show. 
Tonight, there was a wrap party and because I had an early shift, I was done early and spent the rest of the evening as a guest, schmoozing and dancing. Dancing!
I've had a pretty dismal track record when it comes to employment this past couple of years - I kept stumbling into places that were just awful, awful jobs, working for terrible people. After three of these, I was starting to wonder if maybe the problem was me but nope! Turns out, I was just having a run of really bad luck. It's still pretty early to say (I've only been there a week) but I'm thinking my luck seems to have turned around. I'll be having a fun time with cool people and making decent money while I work on getting my own business off the ground.
In news of the Extremely Shallow, one of my outfits was featured on Weardrobe, a fashion site I joined recently. This is very gratifying. I figured it would take months, maybe years, to be noticed by the style mavens that run the site. As it is, I think I only joined up about a week ago. The site features new clothes every day so I think my picture will only be up there for a few more days before it scrolls right off the page. This means I shall have to continue to wow them with my mad style, so as to be a regular feature. I'm all about winning things. Also, my fashion sense, it is strong.
Tonight, there was a wrap party and because I had an early shift, I was done early and spent the rest of the evening as a guest, schmoozing and dancing. Dancing!
I've had a pretty dismal track record when it comes to employment this past couple of years - I kept stumbling into places that were just awful, awful jobs, working for terrible people. After three of these, I was starting to wonder if maybe the problem was me but nope! Turns out, I was just having a run of really bad luck. It's still pretty early to say (I've only been there a week) but I'm thinking my luck seems to have turned around. I'll be having a fun time with cool people and making decent money while I work on getting my own business off the ground.
In news of the Extremely Shallow, one of my outfits was featured on Weardrobe, a fashion site I joined recently. This is very gratifying. I figured it would take months, maybe years, to be noticed by the style mavens that run the site. As it is, I think I only joined up about a week ago. The site features new clothes every day so I think my picture will only be up there for a few more days before it scrolls right off the page. This means I shall have to continue to wow them with my mad style, so as to be a regular feature. I'm all about winning things. Also, my fashion sense, it is strong.
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