Last Time In The Loo - Day 2

Our second day started off slowly, with Sister and I rather sluggishly getting ready while Brother ran some last-minute day-of-show errands.

We eventually met up with The Parents for lunch. We ate at a small coffee shop in Edwardsville, where my Father, like the last time we were all together, threw a minor fit about the menu. He refused to understand why he couldn't have a breakfast sandwich for lunch, and basically bullied our waitress into making one for him.

I don't even want to think about how much spit my father has ingested while eating out.

Our waitress was friendly and adorable. I couldn't quite place her accent. I was semi-certain, though, that she was Amish, based on my extensive experience with the Amish reality show last year. I finally asked her, and turns out that she's Swedish, and that her accent is basically midwestern Swedish, which is why it was hard to place. Brother asked her what she thinks of Edwardsville, and she said "I never knew racism until I moved here."

Yes.

Father was itching to get out of there - his patience for the chatty waitress growing obviously thin. I was embarrassed. At what age do you cease being embarrassed by your parents? At what age do you stop feeling 5 years old? At what age do their judgmental statements such as "You're new apartment couldn't possibly be 350 square feet. That's impossible. No, it just can't be" stop making you feel like a failure?

We left shortly after eating freshly baked wads of chocolate chip cookie and quickly learned why Father was so eager to dismiss actual conversation with an actual friendly person. He wanted to show us 1000 photos from The Parents' recent trip to France.

There were literally ONE THOUSAND PHOTOS.

I'm not kidding.

There were 1000 photos.

I believe this is when the stir craziness began.

The Parents soon left and Brother, Sister and I chilled for a while. Sister helped me with my unmanageable and ridiculous hair in preparation for Brother's big show. We were soon picked up by The Parents, and departed for the airport, where we would be picking up Brother's Girlfriend, AM.

AM's flight had been delayed, so we were uncertain as to when she'd be arriving. Regardless, Father, thinking he was above the law, said "I am just going to park in passenger pickup. Nobody can stop me." I said "Dad, but there are people whose passengers are actually here, and AM's flight is, at the earliest, getting here in half an hour." "I don't care." "Dad, you can't just stay here because you want to."

But he did. For a while. Until this vicious security person asked him to move. He became very cross with her, drove around, and parked again. This time she allowed him to stay for about 5 minutes, then asked him to move. On the third attempt, she said "Sir, drive around until your passenger gets here" and then rolled her eyes. I was proud of her, but Father was cross.

Heh.

We finally picked up AM and decided to grab something to eat prior to Brother's show. Brother had said "There's nowhere to eat around the show - you should probably just grab something at the airport." Refusing to believe that there would be nowhere to eat in a city, we opted to drive around looking for a place to eat.

Right. A place to eat in St. Louis. SILLY US! We literally drove around for an hour and there was nothing. I'm lying. There was one restaurant and it had, like, a three hour wait because it was the only restaurant in a 5-mile radius. Sister and I, at one point, decided to scope out a sketchy bar outside of which stood three flannel-wearing middle-aged men who literally spat a few times before saying to us "Hey ladies." Ewwww. The third place we found had nothing less than $30 a plate. We ended up at a sports bar sort of place with a confused waitress whose cleavage was, well, yeah. There was lots of it. And meat in the ravioli. Ewwwww. Worse meal of all time, but the "cook" was so enthusiastic that we kept lying and saying "Oh, uh, yes, its fine."

Weird city. It's like a city without the benefits of a city. More on this topic on Last Time In the Loo - Day 3. I know you can't wait!!!



When we finally arrived at the show it was packed. Yay Brother! The gallery was in a renovated police station, so it had a lot of character and a jail cell in which Sister and I did an extensive photo shoot. I was thrilled because my friend G, who lives in St. Louis and who I haven't seen in ages, came to the show with his wife K.



Brother's show was amazing. I couldn't believe how much work he'd generated. His prints focus on themes of racism and masculinity, two themes he will also deal with in his soon-to-be-published graphic novel! He sold three prints at the show. People were very impressed. I am so proud of him. And so thrilled that his time in Edwardsville is almost over. He has much to look forward to, but also much to say farewell to.



We stayed for about three hours, and by the end were exhausted. We made a brief appearance at a party in the city given by one of the ceramics students. We felt old and left about ten minutes after we arrived and had eaten all of the breadsticks they were serving.

Sister and I stayed in the hotel with The Parents that night so that Brother and AM could have some time alone and so that we could avoid the evil air mattress.

And so concluded Day 2 in the midwest.

Save The Green Planet

I saw this insane Korean movie last night at the Film Forum called Save the Green Planet.

I don't know if I should recommend this movie. I really enjoyed it but am not sure why, and felt as though I'd taken a physical, emotional, and pyschological beating after watching it.

Some words to describe it:

sentimental
hilarious
violent
bizarre
traumatic
graphic
beautiful
disturbing
deep
insane
crazy
gorgeous
tragic
funny
innovative

There is really no protagonist in this movie. All of the characters, at one point or another, are portrayed as awful. You have, though, sympathy for all of these characters at one point or another.

This movie is completely nuts. But in a good way that I can't articulate at all.

I'm not going to write about the plot (well, here's the basic premise: crazy, blue-collar dude is convinced that the CEO of a major company is an alien and takes it upon himself to kidnap him in order to save the earth). Better that you just read the website and see how insane this all is.

And then go see this movie if you can, because its marvelous.

Desperate Housewives

I did get almost 8 hours of sleep last night, and consequently had all sorts of lavish dreams involving things like sliding down a three-story slide of folding chairs erected by my friend A's husband, who owned a mall that specialized in dealing art and tuxedos.

I also had a dream in which some bratty 8-year old girl sat on my glasses, broke them, and then refused to be held responsible. I said "Look, kid, you broke these. I can't see a damn thing and they cost a lot of money. You have to pay for them." She said "Look, its your fault" and kept blaming me. I kept saying things like "Kids today!"

But, the reason I am blogging at all about this is because I had one of those dreams in which I was being played by someone else! I love when that happens. In this particular dream, I'd attended a high school reunion of sorts in my actual elementary school gym in a previous dream that night in which I was being played by myself. In this dream, I received a note from a "secret admirer" from the reunion. He refused to identify himself, and said that I'd receive another note at my place of business. I was very excited, trying to think of who it might be. At any rate, I was seated at my desk - apparently I had a desk job that involved an office and large desk with pictures of my children on it - and am handed a letter by my assistant. I knew immediately what the letter was, and winked coyly at my assistant.

This dream was cinematographically rich, and also in black and white. I opened the letter and started reading it. I was so involved that I didn't realize that this grey ash substance was falling from the inside of the letter. I was giggling - apparently I was excited about who it was from. My assistant came in and smiled at me, and asked who it was. I said "Oh, its from..." and then, close up on my assisant who said "OH! MY! GOD!!!!!! CLOSE THE LETTER!" and then a shot from the outside of my office - like picture from a row of cubicles - with a swift zoom-in of my horrified face when I realized what it was.

I screamed.

But mainly because I realized, during this close-up, that I was being played by the man-looking woman from Desperate Housewives.

Wtf? The horror.

Anyway, the ash-looking stuff, which in my dream-mind was originally some sort of weird mold, turned out to be an anthrax outbreak that ended up wiping out my entire office. Because in dreams you can see anthrax.

But really I am more concerned with why I was being played by Felicity Huffman.

"If You Think You're Enlightened, Spend a Week With Your Parents"

That's a quote from someone that was quoted by the filmmaker who visited my class last night.

We viewed an elegant documentary called "Tell Them Who You Are." It was about cinematographer Haskell Wexler. I had no idea who he was, but that made no difference. The documentary was made by his son, Mark, who painted an accurate (sometimes negative) portrait of his father as a cinematographer, as a political activist, as a man, and most importantly, as a father.

There was a moment in the film that will stay with me forever. I've never seen an entire audience weep during a documentary. It was a powerful, real moment, and you should all see this movie just to see this scene.

After seeing this movie, you are left contemplating the relationship between fathers and sons, especially sons from a generation in which fathers were discouraged from being emotionally intimate with their children. It was difficult to watch at times, especially when Mark, and accomplished filmmaker, was being criticized by his father, a more experienced and somewhat tyrannical cinematographer. During these moments, Mark would basically become a 5-year old.

It's interesting to see this on film. I think many of us experience this when around our parents. I know I do, and I have touched upon this in the blog. If you don't experience this with your parents and have no idea what I'm talking about, you should see this movie.

When asked about this during class, Mark explained that even the most stable and put-together of people basically "become a wreck" after spending a week with their parents. He said that he either had to make this documentary or go to therapy, and he thought that making the movie would be the cheaper alternative.

He also said that many people, immediately after seeing this movie, say things like "I haven't spoken to my father in 10 years and I am going to call him right now."

In addition to delving into the nature of father and son and discussing Wexler's career as a cinematographer and director (there's a fabulous interview with Michael Douglas, also the son of a celebrity, during which he says that working with Wexler on "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest" was the worst experience of his career), the film also investigates the nature of documentary - if you can really capture reality. Are people really being themselves when a camera is on them? How much is setup? How much is acting? Haskell Wexler claims that, after a day or so, unless someone is a professional actor, they will forget about the camera, which actually becomes evident during the unfolding of this documentary.

Overall, it is a sweet but difficult look at the relationship between a father and a son, albeit one under unique pressures of celebrity and politics.

I strongly recommend it. At the very least, rent it in 6 months.

I'm Miles Away

I didn't sleep much last night.

When I was actually fortunate enough to be granted sleep, I had the following two dreams:

1. I was in my bedroom in my apartment. My bed was littered with all sorts of things - this dream was very realistic. In fact, it wasn't very dreamlike at all. I suppose its just stress from not spending much time in my apartment at all. On my bed was my computer, and attached to it was my camera. As soon as I saw the camera, I remembered that I'd just seen Tiffani-Amber Thiessen at a bar! I was so excited, and immediately grabbed my camera to prove that I'd seen her. I found Roommate and said "Roommate, I saw Tiffani-Amber Thiessen tonight at a bar!" Roommate refused to believe me. She was like "NO WAY you saw Tiffani-Amber Thiessen." This was very funny, because based on the way we were acting, it was as though Tiffani-Amber Thiessen was some sort of major celebrity. Roommate wouldn't believe me, no matter what I said. I was like "Dude, I swear I saw her. She had long blonde hair, though, and I think she might have fake boobs. And she is super hot. Like way hotter than when she was on 90210." "Yeah, whatever." I scanned my camera, looking for the photos I'd supposedly taken of Tiffani-Amber Thiessen. I finally found them. They were very sultry. Suggestive. Very much focused on her breasts. When I went to show Roommate, however, the photos had disappeared and Roommate looked at me condescendingly. That was the whole dream.

(Sidenote 1: Tiffany and Amber are redundant.)

(Sidenote 2: I have no idea where this dream come from. None.)

(Sidenote 3: I don't, consciously, think that Tiffani-Amber Thiessen is hot. I have no idea why I insisted so strongly that she is super hot.)

2. Brother and I had been offered jobs working on the Muppet Show! We were very excited and couldn't contain ourselves as we walked through the streets of NY to start our new jobs. When we got to "the studio," it was no longer NY and was, like, the MGM Muppets ride. It was an outdoor Disney-esque Muppet pavilion. We were semi-disappointed. Our future boss appeared from a very tall Disney-ized skyscraper and said "So, you know what you'll be doing, right?" I actually had no idea what we'd be doing, but I knew we'd each be paid $80,000 a year to do it. Hence the excitement. And, well, the Muppet Show! "Actually, we don't know" said Brother. Our boss then handed us each a broom and said "Your responsibility is to keep the grounds neat every day. You will sweep out here, and will also maintain the entire stairwell of Muppets Headquarters (which is in the skyscraper)." Hmmm. I hadn't realized that our position was janitorial. It suddenly made sense to me that this was the job I had at the Muppet Show. It seemed too good to be true, given that I had zero qualifications to work there. I was perplexed about Brother, though, as clearly he has talent and would be a great asset to the creative forces behind the show. The boss said "Is this not acceptable?" I asked to talk to Brother in private, and said to him "Aren't we above this?" He said "No, I'll take what I can get." I said "But Brother, you're soooooo talented. Why would you settle for this?" "I'll take what I can get." "Do you think there's an opportunity for upward mobility?" "No, but I don't care." I said "I am going to call M and ask her what she thinks" and then thought better of it, because I knew she would say "Leah! THE MUPPETS! SWEEP THE DAMN STAIRS!" Then I woke up.

(Sidenote 4: This is clearly a dream about selling out. I don't know if I think I am a sellout or I worry that Brother will have to take some sort of job that doesn't fully utilize his creative genius in order to make ends meet. I'm sure its the latter. I'm just not sure why I was involved.)

(Sidenote 5: Seriously, I'd do anything for $80,000 a year. I don't know what I was thinking.)

I really need some sleep. Lots. My goal is 10 hours tonight. Will it happen? Probably not, but I'm aiming high, because then 8 hours (blissful 8 hours of sleep!) will seem like a compromise but will, in fact, be awshummmmmm.

Because It Was Nothing Like We'd Ever Dreamt

Just got back from The Shins at Webster Hall.

Sigh.

The Shins are a prime example of bands who look nothing in person like they look in your mind.

This is an acceptable phenomenon when it comes to The Shins, though, because they put on a damn good show. I think it is, at the very least, in the top 10.



The show was fun. Typically, however, I shall now complain about the fact that nobody in NYC dances at shows. The Shins put on a fun show. I expected people to be bouncing around, bobbing their heads at the very least. But no. Everyone in NYC is too cool to dance. Damn you, hipsters and indie kids! Dancing is cool!

Man. I danced and I had on a coat, was carrying a heavy bag, had a camera around my neck in order to take 40 blurry photos and a movie without sound of my favorite Shins song, and was suffering from some sort of food poisoning that both R and I contracted from our dinner.

But the indie kids? Too cool to dance.

Hmph.

Regardless, a great show. The boy can sing. The set was crisp. The execution was flawless and the songs varied enough from the albums to maintain interest for the entire show. Exciting news: they are recording a new album this year. From the new songs they played, it promises to be good.

Blah. I still feel food poisoned. I love the awkwardness prior to the realization that everyone has food poisoning. On the way to the show, I kept thinking "Man, I am either about to have an alien baby or something from dinner does not want to stay down" but I didn't want to tell anyone that I wanted desperately to run to the show. I don't know why there is shame in inability to digest things. I waited in line for like 20 minutes when we got there and when I finally met up with R he said "Man, my stomach isn't feeling so great" and I was like "Mine too!" and we both heaved huge sighs of relief. Luckily I am paranoid about this sort of thing and carry the world's best over-the-counter pink tablet - "Yay! Pepto Bismol!" - which eased the poisoning until about 20 minutes before the show's ending. After the show R and I compared notes and realized we both started to feel ill at the same moment. He said "I started to feel a little sketchy when you bumped into that girl when we were crossing the street" and I was like "That's why I bumped into that girl when we were crossing the street!"

D, who ate with us, is fine. Hmmmm. This food poisoning must only affect Italian stomachs.

Regardless, the show was amazing and I am home now, thankfully.

And, in other exciting news, I learned tonight that Monday is recycling day for NYC when I passed about 12 million empty boxes strewn about the streets whilst walking through the city. I am hoping that these empty boxes are also magic and will pack themselves. Doubtful, but please, allow me to enjoy my fantasies. At the very least, if I am in a panic and need more boxes for the move, I know where to find them. I guess I can find them anywhere I want. Woo hoo!

OK. I am going to read mail now. Joy.

Last Time In The Loo - Day 1

The trip began rather uneventfully, with small flights from Laguardia to Dulles, and then Dulles to Lambert. The planes were the sort that granted me my very own aisle, which is always exciting but also slightly frightening, when people are required to move around so as to weight balance the plane. Here are some photos from my layover at Dulles:



I arrived in St. Louis 45 minutes sooner than expected, which meant that I got there well before the rest of my family. They were scheduled to arrive and then go to Enterprise Rent-A-Car to pick up Father's sweet deal of a rental. He somehow managed to rent the car for only $18 a day, which was the only reason he rented a car at all.

I spoke with Father the night before, and he said "Southwest Airlines is nowhere near the rest of the airport, so we'll have to take a shuttle to the rent-a-car place." He then said "Meet us at the Enterprise Rent-A-Car" and then said something about a shuttle, which I thought applied only to him because he was taking Southwest, the black sheep of the St. Louis airport. I walked to the Enterprise Rent-A-Car and waited for over an hour. During this hour, I spoke to Sister who said things like "We're on the shuttle!" and "We're just outside!" and "Where are you? We don't see you!" I said "I'm sitting at the Enterprise Rent-A-Car terminal" and Father got on and rather crossly said "Did you take the shuttle?"

Ah.

Apparently I too was supposed to take a shuttle to the actual Enterprise lot and not go to the Enterprise in the airport. Silly me. My family was in a mad panic. I jumped a shuttle and was there in about 3 minutes. It had taken them forever, because, again, they took Southwest which apparently has its own airport. But seriously. If someone told you to meet them at the car rental place after you got off a plane, would you not meet them at the car rental place at the airport? I didn't think this was so ridiculous, but Father did.

I don't know. I was perturbed and moody, but all was remedied when I saw my family. Yay!

We piled into the red jeep and made our way to Edwardsville, IL, where we met up with Brother at his house. It was lovely to be intact as a family for the first time since Christmas.

Shortly after our arrival, we piled back into the jeep and drove to the SIUE campus, where we attended BB's show. BB is not only Brother's roommate, but his hetero life partner. They've known each other since the glory days of UMass, and have lived and worked together for the entirety of their printmaking times at SIUE.



BB's show was amazing. His paintings are technically remarkable, but I prefer his prints. Visceral. Empty. Fabulous.



Upon our departure from the show, I forced Brother and Sister to do rural things such as frolic in grass and blow dandelions at each other and at the camera. I am fortunate that my siblings don't mind this sort of thing. I am thrilled with the adorable photos I took of them playing in the midwest.



After the show, we headed to The Pasta House for dinner. Southern Illinois Italian food. We were ravenously hungry so it seemed like the best meal we'd ever had. There was amazing thunder and lightening when we left, the kind that accompanies torrential downpours and the kind where you know the lightening struck two feet away from you because the thunder is instant. People in the midwest take this for granted because it happens all the time. I loved it. It was beautiful.



After dinner, The Parents headed to the only hotel in Edwardsville while Brother, Sister and I went back to Brother's apartment. Sister and I were exhausted from travelling, so we demanded that Brother rent us a movie. He rented Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow, which I'd been dying to see. Jude Law. 'Nuff said.

(Side note: One of my brother's roommates is Vietnamese. We'd originally hoped not to have to rent a movie, so I began perusing his videos and couldn't help but notice that he owned an alarming amount of Tom Cruise movies. I said "K, I couldn't help but notice that you have a lot of movies starring Tom Cruise. What's the deal?" He said "Asian men really love Tom Cruise. And Jude Law. They're both so good looking. Something about the facial structure, I guess." Who knew? I hate Tom Cruise. I guess its nice to know there's a whole set of men out there who love him.)

We were exhausted and couldn't quite conjure up the mental capacity to get rid of the closed captions, which insisted on being there no matter what we did. It was infuriating.

BB came home and assisted in our getting rid of the captioning, but by then Sister had fallen asleep in a chair and had started to sleep talk. Additionally, I just couldn't get into the movie. I felt a little bad about it. I imagine had I not just seen Sin City that I'd have been thoroughly impressed.

We retired to Brother's bedroom, where Sister and I would sleep on an air mattress. Brother inflated the mattress. It sounded like it was leaking. I said "Is it supposed to do that?" He said "Oh, no, there's a part missing." He found the part in BB's room (BB had been using it since his mother was in town for his show) and reinflated the mattress.

About two hours later, Sister woke me from a dead sleep by screaming "LEAH! MY BACK! It's ON. THE. FLOOR!!!! Is yours?" I woke up, startled, and said "Yeah, actually, it is."

The air mattress had mostly deflated while we were asleep, and we found ourselves on the floor. It is amazing to me that this didn't wake me up. I was truly exhausted.

Sister said "Well, hopefully that won't happen again, since its like the middle of the night."

I said "Wait, how do you know its the middle of the night?" since there were no clocks anywhere.

She said "Because we've been asleep forever."

"But how do you have any idea how long we've been asleep for? I don't think its the middle of the night."

Brother looked and said "It's only 11:30."

Shit.

Hoping that it wouldn't leak again, we immediately fell back asleep, only to be awoken, again, by our backs on the hardwood floor.

This time Sister said "Sorry," and automatically reinflated the mattress.

This happened a series of times, during which the three of us would utter nonsensical delirium-induced half asleep thoughts such as "It appears that this is happening every two hours" and "That's what you get for lending your stuff to people!" and "What an asshole!" and "I bet the missing part is in BB's room - why the f..."

In spite of all of this, I think we slept for over 12 hours.

Bliss.

Back From The Loo

I am back from The Loo with keys in hand to a new apartment. The lease has been signed. I am still suspicious of how devoid of drama this has been. I am expecting something awful to happen. Darn conditioning. It seems, however, that all is well and that I can start moving things in as soon as I feel so inclined.

Crazy.

Lots going on.

I have to start thinking about what needs to be bought and what needs to be sold and how I can convince D to spend his free time putting up curtain rods and building fabulous systems of shelving. Hopefully these sorts of projects will appeal to his nesting instincts, which, as of late, have been nonapparent.

He said "I have a power drill. I hope you realize how great my power drill is. If not, my power drill is going to seek out more grateful walls."

Yes. Lots of projects and irksome organizational activities such as packing and selling things I love and possibly subletting my room and transporting boxes magically and changing addresses and arranging for electricity and various other nonsense I have no interest in doing but will consume my life for the next few weeks.

That was grammatically atrocious. Please forgive me. Lots on my mind.

I will write about my St. Louis adventure (or, non-adventure, since it was St. Louis) when I have time to upload some photos.

In the meantime, I am off to see The Shins at Webster Hall tonight.

Yeah!