So for the first day of my TV/comedy writing class, we were asked to prepare a list of the top ten favorite items on our i-pods (or equivalent), and to identify the top ten people, movies, TV shows that influenced our comic sensibilities. It is a task for which I am singularly unqualified, but I gave it my best shot, although I couldn't resist adding a small disclaimer or two.
B Seetachitt’s Not Really A Top Ten List
6/25/06
I’m not so good at top tens. I had a boyfriend once who knew his favorite everything. Favorite movies, favorite rock artists, favorite Broadway musicals, flavors of ice cream, kinds of sandwich at Dagwood’s Deli. He’d ask me about my favorite stuff just to watch my brain implode. Then he’d have to talk me through it, like I was a kid with Asberger’s trying to figure out whether the dude in the picture is happy or sad.
“Do you like Vanilla?” he’d say. “Think about it, is it better than chocolate?"
“Okay, let’s go back. Do you like ice cream? Do you know if you like ice cream?”
“Do you even remember what ice cream tastes like?”
On the other hand, seldom having opinions of my own makes me exceptionally agreeable to be around. Like if I’m taking a road trip with my husband, and he says, “I’m going to listen to this song by Nelly sixteen times in a row.”
I say, “Okay.”
“And for the next five hours, we’re going to listen to the soundtrack to Wicked."
“Great.”
MY IMAGINARY I-POD
Thus most of my mental musical library is not the result of my own growing taste, but simply a record of my changing environment. I didn’t have a radio of my own until I was twelve, so along with classical music, I grew up listening to my dad’s old albums: Chad Mitchell Trio, Kingston Trio, Peter Paul and Mary. I loved these because they had lyrics that told stories, even though I didn’t often get their satirical nature. However I don’t think I would invest in digital versions, so they would probably not make the i-pod list.
The summer after 8th grade, my friend Barbara visited from Utah bringing Depeche Mode (would I pay to own it again? maybe no), Thompson Twins (yes), and somehow in my first Columbia house Record Club six-for-the-price-of-one order also included Sting’s Dream of the Blue Turtles (probably).
At my friend Amy’s house after school in high school I memorized the lyrics to the Violent Femmes (no, I’m too old to shout “don’t point point point that thing at me” on the elliptical machine at the gym) and INXS (tough call). In college, my friend Kyle was a fanatic for R.E.M and we saw them in concert four times in two years (yes, at least Life’s Rich Pageant and Dead Letter Office.) He also turned me on to Sarah MacGlachlen and Lyle Lovett (yes and yes).
From my roommate during summer stock theatre I acquired a taste for Nancy Griffith (yes). Various boyfriends were into Prince. I think I read a review when it came out and fell in love with Paul Simon’s Graceland (yes-a great album for pacing a workout with).
When I started dancing I heard a lot of swing and blues, and Salsa—Duke Ellington, Ella Fitzgerald, Mark Anthony, Celia Cruz, Buena Vista Social Club.
Then there are my friends I’d go camping with, Moby, Chemical Brothers (we’re into all yes territory now), Along with some Beatles, and maybe some Tom Waits and some Morphine, that’s what I might have on my i-pod if I knew how to program it.
MY REAL I-POD
What’s really on my i-pod though? The same songs my husband had on there when he gave it to me a year ago. I just finished replacing the battery this week, took it to the gym and discovered what was on there.
Raspberry Beret and Little Red Corvette--Prince
Beast of Burden—The Stones and the Bette Midler versions-I think I made him put these on there.
Fever-the Sam Butera Version
Those Jeopardy skits from Saturday Night Live,
Chris Rock talking about insurance---though I find him less funny than depressing lately
Boys in the Hood –Dynamite Hack
Cherry Lips—Garbage
Eye of the Tiger-Survivor—okay I don’t really listen to that, but it just makes me smile every time I scroll through.
Les Mis soundtrack—I don’t listen to this much either, but it scrolling past inspires me to learn how to add other music sometime soon.
TOP TEN PEOPLE AND MOVIES,
Steve Martin—what a smart guy! His stand-up, early movies, L.A. Story is a flawed fave.
Mel Brooks—Young Frankenstein primarily
David Sedaris—neurotic is funny
Chris Rock—lays it out there
Mitch Hedberg—Non-sequiter, flat delivery, like Stephen Wright but better.
Ben Stiller—Zoolander and Dodgeball get me every time.
TOP TEN TV
Shows I grew up with: Mash, The Brady Bunch, Cheers, some SNL
Then: Seinfeld, Friends, Frasier
Animated: The Simpsons, The Family Guy
Recently Rented and really enjoyed: Scrubs, Arrested Development
Closest to my heart: Joss Whedon, (Buffy, Angel, Firefly),
Monday, June 26, 2006
Wednesday, June 21, 2006
Blah.
For being an easy few days, it’s been a rough few days. I look forward to “down-time” after busy periods, but then the transition often gets to me. Post show depression, I call it, because when I freelanced it used to happen after each big show. The irony is that the summer so far, the combination of Vic/Lit class and tutoring gig, hasn't seemed like enough of a show to get depressed after…but there you have it. It's kind of a weird feeling, and I sometimes think I can outrun it, if I just stay around other people…and it does work, as far as that goes, but then I’ve got to face the fact that I can’t organize fun and games 24/7-- although I can usually spend a couple days trying. Paul has been gone sixteen hours a day for weeks now, and this doesn't make it easier.
Looking at the positive aspects, once the paralyzing ennui phase comes to an end, I have a period of time where I am depressed but functional, and this time can be quite productive. When better to go through piles of unsent insurance claims, completely messed up school loans, and other bills of mysterious origin? Who better to vent my negativity on than the automated customer service at each institution? And sitting on hold is not unlike meditating, really --Isn’t there a mudra where you hold a receiver to one ear, breath a certain number of times, and then switch ears?
Looking at the positive aspects, once the paralyzing ennui phase comes to an end, I have a period of time where I am depressed but functional, and this time can be quite productive. When better to go through piles of unsent insurance claims, completely messed up school loans, and other bills of mysterious origin? Who better to vent my negativity on than the automated customer service at each institution? And sitting on hold is not unlike meditating, really --Isn’t there a mudra where you hold a receiver to one ear, breath a certain number of times, and then switch ears?
Friday, June 16, 2006
Links Are Up!
Very proud of myself. I have successfully edited the links on the sidebar. All friends of mine who are clever and creative. Except for Avant Game. I just wish she was my friend, but I've never met her. Is there some kind of protocol where I should write and ask permission before adding that link?
Healthy(er) Baking Tip
Tonight I made some cookie dough from a mix. A fan of the baking mix for many years, I have cut back significantly since embracing different diet practices in the wake of my illness. But occasionally I veer from the path, and when I do, I grab the Ghiradelli chocolate chip cookie mix. This is the only mix on the entire shelf that does not contain partially hydrogenated oils. I've read a lot of labels and have not seen another product without them. Even the other Ghiradelli products, like their brownies, contain partially hydrogenated oils.
Trivia: The history behind baking mixes is that when cake mixes originally debuted after WWII, all you had to add was water. They either sold or tested badly--I can't remember which--because the ladies of the house didn't feel they were "doing" enough. So the manufacturers pulled the powdered egg from the mix, and required the homemaker to add a real egg. This was apparently enough to assuage her guilt, and today's pre-made mixes do a rollicking business, if the full aisle of products is any indicator.
Edit 11/10: I have recently seen Krusteaz cookie mixes that also are partially-hydrogenated-oil-free!
Healthy(er) Baking Tip
Tonight I made some cookie dough from a mix. A fan of the baking mix for many years, I have cut back significantly since embracing different diet practices in the wake of my illness. But occasionally I veer from the path, and when I do, I grab the Ghiradelli chocolate chip cookie mix. This is the only mix on the entire shelf that does not contain partially hydrogenated oils. I've read a lot of labels and have not seen another product without them. Even the other Ghiradelli products, like their brownies, contain partially hydrogenated oils.
Trivia: The history behind baking mixes is that when cake mixes originally debuted after WWII, all you had to add was water. They either sold or tested badly--I can't remember which--because the ladies of the house didn't feel they were "doing" enough. So the manufacturers pulled the powdered egg from the mix, and required the homemaker to add a real egg. This was apparently enough to assuage her guilt, and today's pre-made mixes do a rollicking business, if the full aisle of products is any indicator.
Edit 11/10: I have recently seen Krusteaz cookie mixes that also are partially-hydrogenated-oil-free!
Tuesday, June 13, 2006
Ugh…
Here’s something both sad and gross: A few moments ago, as I sat on my tuffet, typing away about Victorians, a spider came along and hung out very close to the tuffet. I’m currently in a phase where I am trying to spare the lives of innocent spiders, but it was so big and scary, and it is two in the morning, so I dropped a book on it. It squooshed, and then zillions to teeny-tiny spiders spilled out all over our floor—like black dandelion fluff on a windy day. I had to kill them too. It doesn’t make me happy. It’s kind of disgusting, and I feel bad for the spider(s), and I’m a little scared of going to hell. As a child, my conception of hell was spending eternity with all the spiders I had killed. Since then, I’ve been exposed to more sophisticated theological propositions, but those formative beliefs tend to stick with you.
Victorians
It’s midnight. I’ve called my mom and three friends, checked everyone’s blogs, started to catch up on my emails, eaten dinner and two post dinner snacks. As soon as I post this, I fear I can no longer put off revising my paper that is due tomorrow.
I have enough words already, I just need to change them a little. A friend has suggested that I say things like: “Female agency during the Victorian era was mediated through the absence or presence of a dominant male figure”—this instead of “Being a Victorian woman sucked because you never got to do anything you wanted to without involving some man.”
It could be a long night.
I have enough words already, I just need to change them a little. A friend has suggested that I say things like: “Female agency during the Victorian era was mediated through the absence or presence of a dominant male figure”—this instead of “Being a Victorian woman sucked because you never got to do anything you wanted to without involving some man.”
It could be a long night.
Monday, June 12, 2006
Meditation 1 --My History
I thought it would be good to start with my history, and how I’ve come to the practice I have so far:
I was diagnosed with colon cancer at the end of 2003. My surgery happened in December, a few days before my birthday. I started a meditation practice to aid both in the emotional aspects of that experience, and in my physical recovery. One of my big influences and inspirations was an Australian man named Ian Gawler, who, in the seventies, recovered from a very progressed cancer with a combination of meditation, diet, and other therapies, subsequently starting a support group in the Melbourne area, writing the book “You Can Conquer Cancer,” and eventually building a Living Centre in the Yarra Valley outside of Melbourne. I read his book, and two months after my surgery, traveled to the center for their 10-day Life and Living Program. This intense program, geared toward those affected by cancer, covered several topics related to dealing with illness, and one of the main focuses was a daily meditation instruction and practice.
Interestingly, the Yarra Valley was not the first place that I saw Ian. Because I had some medical tests to undergo in Melbourne the week before the retreat, I found myself with a free weekend in the city. I happened upon an advertisement for a Friday evening presentation by Sogyal Rinpoche, followed by a weekend teaching on Healing Transformation, and I decided to go. When I arrived, Ian was volunteering, working behind the information desk. I found out later that he and his wife Ruth had been students of the Rinpoche for several years, although Ian’s workshop never pointed to Buddhism or any specific religious faith.
Upon returning to Alice Springs, I kept up my practice, and found other people to meditate with from time to time. One group that met on Sunday afternoons was a small Sangha group. It was held in the artist’s workshop out back of the house of one of the members. Although I was not really studying Buddhism, they were always welcoming, and it was a pleasure to sit with them for a half hour in that quiet room, and feel their energy.
I was diagnosed with colon cancer at the end of 2003. My surgery happened in December, a few days before my birthday. I started a meditation practice to aid both in the emotional aspects of that experience, and in my physical recovery. One of my big influences and inspirations was an Australian man named Ian Gawler, who, in the seventies, recovered from a very progressed cancer with a combination of meditation, diet, and other therapies, subsequently starting a support group in the Melbourne area, writing the book “You Can Conquer Cancer,” and eventually building a Living Centre in the Yarra Valley outside of Melbourne. I read his book, and two months after my surgery, traveled to the center for their 10-day Life and Living Program. This intense program, geared toward those affected by cancer, covered several topics related to dealing with illness, and one of the main focuses was a daily meditation instruction and practice.
Interestingly, the Yarra Valley was not the first place that I saw Ian. Because I had some medical tests to undergo in Melbourne the week before the retreat, I found myself with a free weekend in the city. I happened upon an advertisement for a Friday evening presentation by Sogyal Rinpoche, followed by a weekend teaching on Healing Transformation, and I decided to go. When I arrived, Ian was volunteering, working behind the information desk. I found out later that he and his wife Ruth had been students of the Rinpoche for several years, although Ian’s workshop never pointed to Buddhism or any specific religious faith.
Upon returning to Alice Springs, I kept up my practice, and found other people to meditate with from time to time. One group that met on Sunday afternoons was a small Sangha group. It was held in the artist’s workshop out back of the house of one of the members. Although I was not really studying Buddhism, they were always welcoming, and it was a pleasure to sit with them for a half hour in that quiet room, and feel their energy.
Ongoing topic?
A few posts back, I mentioned that I was going to a meditation retreat at the local Shambala center. As I just finished a second weekend of training yesterday, today I had every intention of giving a report of the individual instance, but as I look at the screen, I am wanting to write more than that. As I’ve been exploring blog space lately, I’ve been noticing people who often use their sites to really explore topics that they are interested in from various perspectives, be it like my friends Sam's blog that often refers to her ongoing exploration of things dance related...this girl who mostly writes about different kinds of games. These blogs make a really nice resource, and because their authors are out there learning and discovering things, it sometimes feels like you are walking alongside them in the process. So while I want to do a quick and funny post about, “how my weekend meditation retreat went,” I am also feeling like I want to attempt to talk about this subject of my interest a little more in depth. This is an idea that might lose momentum or completely backfire, but I can at least start it today anyway. It will probably happen in dribs and drabs, interspersed between random daily stuff, and if it starts to get too lengthy and boring for those who just checking in for the news, hopefully I will notice (or someone will tell me) and I can move it into a separate section of my blog (as if I technically know how to do that!)
Friday, June 09, 2006
Summer Nights
I’m very much enjoying the summer here in Tallahassee. With many of the students gone, the pace is slower, businesses less crowded, parking more plentiful! My schedule is also a less demanding for a while, so I can go out a little more often, see friends, etc. Last night after class I went to Open Mike Night at a bar called The Warehouse, as a friend was playing. Tonight I went with some other friends, Mark and Becky, to Atlantis for salsa night. They are just starting, so I am taking the beginners class as a lead to keep them company, but I also stayed for the social dancing afterwards, and though I’m pretty rusty, managed to have some fun dances. Again, maybe because it’s summer, the floor wasn’t too crowded, and many of the people there seemed to be pretty accomplished dancers.
Sunday night, Paul and I hosted a casual dinner for a few people, including David Vann, who will be new on faculty starting this fall, and will be teaching a non-fiction workshop I plan to take. He’s written an exciting memoir called A Mile Down, about some ill-fated endeavors at seas, that has been very well received. He was very nice, and even seemed to enjoy various board games, which can’t be said of everybody. I’m looking forward to learning from him.
Sunday night, Paul and I hosted a casual dinner for a few people, including David Vann, who will be new on faculty starting this fall, and will be teaching a non-fiction workshop I plan to take. He’s written an exciting memoir called A Mile Down, about some ill-fated endeavors at seas, that has been very well received. He was very nice, and even seemed to enjoy various board games, which can’t be said of everybody. I’m looking forward to learning from him.
Wednesday, June 07, 2006
Small Good Things
(This title alludes to a Raymond Carver short story called “A Small Good Thing.” Now that I’m an English major, I do stuff like that. The actual text in this post in no way parallels the story though, so you don’t need to feel like you’re missing anything deep if you haven’t read it.)
Anyway, a couple cool things have happened this week so far:
After almost a year, my schedule finally allowed me to take a yoga class at the school gym, and it was sooo good to get back. Even though I practice on my own, it’s not the same. The class itself is probably average, but that’s good for me as I am out of practice and have a diminished attention span…the teacher is a student who is nice and peppy, and has some knowledge, but still has remnants of that teenage sing-song, so her instruction has an interesting quality, “Okay you guys! We’re going to do the half-moon pose now, okay?!”
I just found out that I got into a TV comedy writing class in the film department this summer. I haven’t mentioned it yet, because it was touch and go and I didn’t want to jinx it. David Simon, who was one of the writers for Mad About You (which I really liked), and a co-creator for the Wayan’s Brothers (which I never saw but will be ordering from Netflix), is teaching the class. Should be an intense five weeks, and I’m pretty excited and a little nervous.
Anyway, a couple cool things have happened this week so far:
After almost a year, my schedule finally allowed me to take a yoga class at the school gym, and it was sooo good to get back. Even though I practice on my own, it’s not the same. The class itself is probably average, but that’s good for me as I am out of practice and have a diminished attention span…the teacher is a student who is nice and peppy, and has some knowledge, but still has remnants of that teenage sing-song, so her instruction has an interesting quality, “Okay you guys! We’re going to do the half-moon pose now, okay?!”
I just found out that I got into a TV comedy writing class in the film department this summer. I haven’t mentioned it yet, because it was touch and go and I didn’t want to jinx it. David Simon, who was one of the writers for Mad About You (which I really liked), and a co-creator for the Wayan’s Brothers (which I never saw but will be ordering from Netflix), is teaching the class. Should be an intense five weeks, and I’m pretty excited and a little nervous.
Monday, June 05, 2006
Kickin' it old school
This is the last post about our cars, but since the Metro got some attention I thought I should introduce our second new member of the family, an all black 1994 Volvo station wagon, already affectionally referred to as "the hearse." My friend's husband works at a local dealership and got us a great deal...the cost was equal or less to what we would likely spend on the engine work for the Taurus. Having grown up with wagons, this car feels like an old friend. It's big and boxy, but its center of gravity just feels right. I have a real sense of where it begins and ends, what's going to swing where when I back up or turn. It makes me happy to drive it. The combined effect of the two cars is that anytime I want to go somewhere, I can step outside, and there is a car to take me there. I always feel grateful!
Also I am inspired to figure out how to download pics from Paul's digital camera so I can update these posts with photos and share the joy...I know it's a little lame, but just pretend I'm gushing over cats, which is probably more socially acceptable. I think if they took a poll of the subject most recorded on people's phone-cameras that cats would rank very high. Maybe it's just because I'm in grad school, and only a few of my friends here have children, but nine out of ten times that someone flips open their phone and says "look at this," they are about to show me a picture of their cat.
Also I am inspired to figure out how to download pics from Paul's digital camera so I can update these posts with photos and share the joy...I know it's a little lame, but just pretend I'm gushing over cats, which is probably more socially acceptable. I think if they took a poll of the subject most recorded on people's phone-cameras that cats would rank very high. Maybe it's just because I'm in grad school, and only a few of my friends here have children, but nine out of ten times that someone flips open their phone and says "look at this," they are about to show me a picture of their cat.
Saturday, June 03, 2006
Car-Manna from Heaven
So the day after my last post, I was sitting in the graduate computer lounge looking at prices on Edmunds.com with a fellow student, when my friend Jay overheard us and said.
“You need a car? I’ve got a car for you!”
I turned, all ears, “Whatcha got?”
“I will GIVE you…practically give you…a 1994 Geo Metro!”
“What’s practically?”
“One…hundred…dollars!”
“What’s wrong with it?”
“It needs a battery.”
“That’s it?”
“Yeah, well it has a few quirks…but it drives. Wanna come see it now?”
“Let’s go!”
And so it is that I am the new proud owner of a little teal Geo Metro. There are a few quirks: The hatch back once opened is only self-supporting for 1.5 seconds. To forget this is to risk concussion. The front passenger side door is without handle on the inside, so the passenger must roll down the window to use the outer handle to let himself out. The rear passenger door is frozen shut for eternity, and to enter via the rear driver’s door you have to open the driver’s side door and reach back and around, because it only opens from the inside. There are also a few tricks involving the shifting mechanism that I won’t go into, but all in all, the car wears its idiosyncrasies well, and everyone who sees it is charmed by it’s cuteness: its bright cheery color, its twelve inch wheels. My friend Tony saw it and said, “It’s like a little toy car!”
“You need a car? I’ve got a car for you!”
I turned, all ears, “Whatcha got?”
“I will GIVE you…practically give you…a 1994 Geo Metro!”
“What’s practically?”
“One…hundred…dollars!”
“What’s wrong with it?”
“It needs a battery.”
“That’s it?”
“Yeah, well it has a few quirks…but it drives. Wanna come see it now?”
“Let’s go!”
And so it is that I am the new proud owner of a little teal Geo Metro. There are a few quirks: The hatch back once opened is only self-supporting for 1.5 seconds. To forget this is to risk concussion. The front passenger side door is without handle on the inside, so the passenger must roll down the window to use the outer handle to let himself out. The rear passenger door is frozen shut for eternity, and to enter via the rear driver’s door you have to open the driver’s side door and reach back and around, because it only opens from the inside. There are also a few tricks involving the shifting mechanism that I won’t go into, but all in all, the car wears its idiosyncrasies well, and everyone who sees it is charmed by it’s cuteness: its bright cheery color, its twelve inch wheels. My friend Tony saw it and said, “It’s like a little toy car!”
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