(no subject)

Last night my roommate and I come home from rehearsal and the front door to our apartment is open. It locks automatically when one closes it, and it's heavy, so normally it just falls closed -- but, oops, it had gotten stuck on a piece of my luggage by the front door.... Luckily, all was well and the cats, if they had a very big adventure had decided to return before we did.

contents of wallet from Sydney

2 business cards from Govindas, which I should really scan in for you. I'm not even sure how to explain Govindas -- it's a movie theater/indian restaurant in Darlinghurst, which they also manage to just cover with their business cards which are like these Krisna trading card things -- I started picking them up, and wish I had found more, they really amuse me in a "aaaah, it's so clear now" way. I currently have cards number 7 and 3. Actually talking about Govindas reminds me of all these things... including a newstand across the street where I'd buy my little notebooks to put scene study work in -- they remind me of the type of newstands that existed in America in my chilhood and don't really anymore -- I actually drafted a short story related to that theme and the nature of aspirations and strangers (a shy sister considers what it means not to dream about being in movies with people - as her peers did when they were all young - but to dream about getting published in certain magazines alongside people... and how can a desire that involves and even requires never meeting or seeing the object of it be so acute? Sane or less sane? Does anything taste better than lonely? To a certain degree she is me, living in the universe next door and more patient. It came to me yesterday sitting on a floor of a Barnes & Noble looking up at the magazine racks... film magazines next to the new journal Steve Erickson is editing and all I could think about was the nature of the desires we're told we're supposed to have, and how we privately twist them into prayer, failure and hope).

Buy 9 get the 10th free card from Dolce & Gelato.

Business card from le petit creme, which I regret discovering late in my trip, despite having it on my list from early on.

ticket stub from Myth, Propaganda and Disaster at Stables Theatre.

Flier for some party at Goodbar.

Expired red passes.

stamps I never used.

Receipts from changing money.

Receipts from the Establishment, now nearly unreadable.

Receipt from bills the morning I left.

drink ticket from NIDA

ticket stub from The Eternity Man at the Opera House.

duty free receipt

IGA receipt.

business card from harajuku (where, lamely, I really regret not buying a harajuku sydney bag)

business card for the britstop, which is this random british doubledecker bus you can rent out for parties.

pimping a historical dance event

I can't go to this, but if you're in the area, you should really think about it -- outrageously fun, very affordable, costume not required but encouraged:

Space still remains for The Elegant Arts Society's 1905 Centennial
Dance Weekend May 7-8 in New Haven, Connecticut! We have some space
left for Saturday's ball and workshops and a very few spaces left for
the full weekend including Sunday's trolley ride and picnic.

Saturday afternoon join us for a series of dance workshops on the dances
of one hundred years ago and a formal ball Saturday evening with live music
by The Flying Romanos and scrumptious refreshments. Sunday, visit
the Shore Line Trolley Museum for a trolley ride and picnic. Period
costume encouraged and admired but not required! A photographer will be
on hand both days for those wishing to sit for portraits in costume.

Advance registration rates ($40 full weekend/$35 ball and
workshops/$25 ball only) will remain good through May 6! Special
student rates for those under 21 are also available. Children under
13 are welcome at no charge in the company of their parents.

More information may be had by emailing Irene at ct@elegantarts.org or
via the event website: http://www.elegantarts.org/1905.

Happy dancing!

(no subject)

"If you want to be a star, you better behave like one."

This is the tagline on the Velvet Goldmine poster that's framed over my desk. I oddly don't notice it that much, rarely look up, rarely think about the line -- except when I've behaved badly generally... I think "I bet this is what people think I mean by this, that it's an excuse for my bad behavior," but it's not.

Today I went to Skinklinic with a gift certificate I was given at a benefit I was comped to. I had a glycolic acid treatment and they took all these scary photos of my face that showed all the damage stuff -- from UV stuff under the surface, to the ongoing redness (apparently I do actually have rosacea and it may be aggravated by what I eat, so much so I never noticed food affecting it, because of the constancy with which I eat trigger foods), wrinkles (which are obviously minimal and are showing up in a really funny place, but not anywhere I was worried about), pores, etc etc etc.

So anyway, I had this crazy expensive treatment done at this crazy clinic in the same building I had my orthadonture done for 7+ years. That was weird -- it was in the back, through the garden, past this weird little reflecting pool thing... and there was cheesy European disco playing... and it was so somewhere between the sense of "real celebrity life" and "wow, this is so Zoolander."

My skin feels fabulous, but is obviously tender. We'll see if this matters in a few days... we'll see if I go back when I'm more flush with cash.

As with all things, there's a story in here.