Emerging From the Depths With the Beales

I don't think I've ever gone an entire week without blogging. Didja miss me? My family and I had some wonderfully relaxing moments at Christmas in Indiana, lounging around in jammie pants until nearly lunchtime, taking slow ponderous walks around our improbably quaint Main Street, reminiscing and reconnecting with longtime family friends. More on that once I have time to digest all that went on.

I've been rekindling my obsession with all things Edie and Beale with the marvelous Beales of Grey Gardens. If you haven't seen the original Grey Gardens, a sort of sad love letter to the once glorious, now fallen cousins of Jacqueline Bouvier Kennedy, you should. The story is utterly mesmerizing, and it's one of those movies you find yourself thinking about in countless unexpected moments later. There's drama, and tragedy, and great humor, and dark psychology, and fashion, and cats. Lots and lots of cats.

At K-Rock's recommendation, I've also enjoyed several intense viewings of When Stand Up Stood Out, about the boom of the Boston comedy scene, the effect on the scene nationwide, and the way huge success and opportunities changed the relationships between the comics in the tightly-knit Beantown stand-up culture. It's interesting to realize it was almost entirely a white male scene that prompted the explosion of stand-up across the states in the '80's (yeah, that "dude with a mic in front of brick wall on every other cable channel" era). It's also very instructive to see how success (and the opportunities for success) shifted alliances and sometimes destroyed camaraderie among comics. This parallels some of the things I'm observing in the Chicago scene, as scouts swoop through town looking for the best and brightest, and some are lucky enough to nab spots on the schedule of Big Important Comedy Festivals.

Holidaze

Wow, even for someone whose approach to Christmas insanity is like that of a conscientious objector, I'm still getting bogged down in a lot of holiday logistical baloney. Just going home to Indiana for four days is proving quite a complex task. How's your holiday sidestepping going?

My Apiary editor/publisher Nate sent me the kickass Ultimate David Sedaris Box Set for Christmas. I'm in heaven!

Axl Rose grabbed old Indiana homeboy Izzy Stradlin and pulled him onstage at a recent Guns 'n' Roses concert in L.A. My mind was blown by the mention that Izzy actually retired from the band in 1991. Fifteen years? Is that long enough to wash the toxic influence of Axl Rose out of one's bloodstream? Also, have I ever mentioned that Izzy Stradlin's dad and my mom used to get in fights on the school bus as children? Yes, my angelic-looking little blonde Mama used to swing a lunchpail at Mr. Isbell, who was reportedly quite a little cuss, back in the day. Just a bit of gee-whiz for you there.

All my stand-up comedy friends are abuzz about Zach Galifianakis having been the surprise guest at a show at Weeds last Tuesday. Extra shows were added, and it sounds like there was an afterparty where tipsy worshippers said hello to one of our alt comedy idols. One of our Bastion correspondents even managed a 20 minute phone interview with ZG. I had a business meeting to attend Tuesday night, and I'm consoling myself with thoughts of the gratis cheeseburger and Coronas I enjoyed instead of brushing elbows with a comedy hero. Anyway, here's some Zach:

It's A Blog World After All

Despite the fact that I am not a teenybopper looking for makeout partners, and through some strange agent of fate (let's call her K-Rock) I have been dragged into the world of MySpace. I can't believe it, either. I'm telling myself that I'm doing it for Chicago comedy, which makes it okay. Also, it is sort of nice to think I've gained 112 friends in the last two days, even though none of them really know who I am, outside of being the editor of the Bastion.

Gossip blogger, self-proclaimed gay activist (more like witch-hunting de-closeter) and all around annoying self-promoter Perez Hilton is being sued for several million dollars by photo agencies. Anyone else remember when he actually just blogged about celebrity gossip, and didn't insert himself into every story and plaster his own smug face all over every post? Things change so quickly in the blogosphere.

Speaking of grating public personalities named Hilton, Paris Hilton's publicist would like you to know that she has trouble keeping cupcakes out of her nose. That's the best explanation for white powder around the nostrils that I've ever heard!

Tucker Max has landed a sitcom deal based on his tales of jerkery. Bloggers around the world wrap scarves around their faces and claim to know nothing about HTML.

Oh, and I have a new motto that I'm living my life by now. Ready for it? It's brilliant: "Bring your own snacks." Literally and otherwise, I've found this to be the key to happiness. Be responsible for your own experience. Think ahead about what you're going to need in life to be happy and satiated. Don't waste money on flashy $6 Starbucks sandwiches when a little baggie of pistachios and dried cranberries and will do you even better. Bring your own snacks!

Swimming Nonparallels Talkin' Comedy

I have been cleared by my doctor to resume weight training and swimming. I thought I was going to have to wait another five weeks, so the "clear for launch" signal made me feel like I was let out of prison early. Of course, then, yesterday I went bananas, and I did a half hour of cardio warmup, a half hour of weight training, and then an hour of swimming. That means today I feel like my arms are made of lead, and I can feel every muscle in my body screaming "Bella! Stretch more before you do that stuff!" I also need to figure out some better strategies for keeping my hair from turning into straw and my skin from breaking out in itchy dry patches from all the chlorine. But it's great to feel strong again, and free to do whatever I want.

I'm sitting in my office using my teeth to slowly scrape all the candy sprinkles off chocolate nonpareils, or as I called them when I was little, "nonparallels." I have a terrible habit of wanting to eat only the tops of things, or the filling, or, as in this case, just the tiny white candy molecules affixed to the main section of the candy, also known as "chocolate." I regularly drive people, especially foodie types, crazy with my twitchy eating habits.

Hopefully this will be the last in this series of "look what others are writing about me" posts. I may have reached the critical mass of blog celebrity in Chicago. I'll have to move to New York or LA to gain more (questionable, and still geeky) fame.

Here is an interview with me conducted by Chicago comedian Mike Bridenstine, ringleader of those silly Blerds boys, who perform stand-up in Chicago and elsewhere, and produce some really great short comedy films. (This interview is part of his "Talkin' Comedy" series of interviews with Chicago comedy folks. It will soon be up on a proper site, but for now it's posted on his MySpace page.) Check out Blerds videos here, and, for dragon-chasing-its-own-tail meta screwiness, here's my interview with Mike a few weeks ago on the Bastion.

Extradimensional Christmas Songs and Tootsie Roll Pops

Lisa Randall is on Charlie Rose right now, talking about her work in physics. The subject is fascinating, and her passion is so engaging. Extra dimensions? Energy transfers between them? Humans trapped in a pocket of localized gravity? The universe is not what we think it is. She's got a new book out - Warped Passages: Unraveling the Mysteries of the Universe's Hidden Dimensions. I'd love to read it. Here she is as a guest on another show.

A few holiday observations: in retail and commercial settings, Christmas music is enough to make me want to change locations. I'd rather go home hungry or without urgently-needed household items than sit through another rendition of Paul McCartney's "Wonderful Christmas Time." And I like Paul McCartney.

I'm not a grinch. And I don't hate music. But that repetition of the small number of songs that exist in that genre really hurts my brain. And it makes me feel sorry for workers who have to hear that stuff for eight hours at a time. They hate it. I know, because I ask them.

Also, just out of curiousity, around the holidays, how much time do we spend in consumer pursuits of goods/decorating/party planning versus time spent in actual religious observation, or with family? I don't think our behaviors ring true with what we purport the holiday to be about. I know this isn't a bold new assertion. I'm just sayin'.

Fun With Movie Trailers

From the guy who brought you the recut of the Shining trailer as a lighthearted romantic romp, Scary Poppins:

Being Blog Famous Doesn't Mean I'm Hanging Out With Britney and Paris

I'm a blogebrity! Or at least, Bella Rossa is a featured interview on Centerstage Chicago. And I did my best to plug the Bastion and all my favorite Chicago bloggers:

"Name a local blogger extraordinaire.
Just to name a few, there's rock star blogger Claire Zulkey. Also, before I knew I would ever meet her, Kristy Mangel's now defunct Five Drink Minimum (which she quit to write for the Bastion) was a fun read. I also read Sloan Taylor, and tons of comedians' blogs—Schadenfreude's is unbelievable —and a couple of writing-related blogs, Nudle and Writing With Nancy."

Field Museum Roses, Josie Jazz, and Polly Rockets

Sloan and I half ran, half skated to the Field Museum Monday morning so she could snag a few bonus points for a tour of the "Plants of the World" exhibit. (Did you know that apples, raspberries, and other fruits are actually roses? Also, my new favorite kind of plant - monkey pots.) I was hoping it was a tilt-a-whirl kind of thing where you speed through the evolution of husked palms in a whirling teacup or on a giant spinning gyroscope, but no. It was the "walk around quietly and look at stuff" kind of thing. Sloan got her thirty bonus points for her science class, though, and she's going to finish up at Loyola in about two days. Two days! She's practically reverberating with excitement right now. (I am, too...we have a huge and awesome creative project looming on the horizon. It's going to blow your mind.)

Night before last we hung out at the CD release party for Josie Aiello (Sloan worked on Josie's video for her song "Venom," which is widely rumored to be included on an upcoming superhero movie soundtrack.) The party was at Martyrs on Lincoln, and we had a good time pondering the"lookalikeness" of certain musical martyrs in a huge mural by the bar. There was a sort of reptilian looking John Lennon, a Janis Joplin with a saintly glow around her head, and a hazy, somewhat Fat Albertesque Jimi Hendrix. The opening band was really good, and then Josie put on an amazing, energetic show.

Last weekend I met someone who used to hang out with Tucker Max. I decided to talk to him anyway. Turns out he's a pretty okay guy. This guy (a friend of a friend) was sure I was on the other side of the nerd fence from him (the tipoff being my lack of history with comic books) until I dropped a rocket on him. He mentioned science fiction. I mentioned Asimov. He sneered. I threw out Card, Bova, Silverberg. His eyebrows twitched. Then I said two magic words: Douglas Adams. He softened. "Douglas Adams is my personal Pope," he declared. Snuh. I challenged him. "You don't know Douglas Adams unless you know his daughter's full name. What is it?" Blank stare. Stammering. "Polly Rocket Adams!" I made the "L" sign on my forehead. I was victorious. I was Supreme Nerd, if only for a moment.

Dewey The Library Cat, and Reflections on Media

Via the AP, a cute story about an abandoned kitten that became a library cat, and passed away in the librarian's arms 19 years later. Very touching, especially to a library nerd like me. Then there's this:

"...TV crews came from as far away as Japan to do stories about him. Myron said she has found 222 'hits' for Dewey on the Internet search engine 'Google.'"

Why the quotes around internet terms like they're strange new language? Like we're talking about some alien being that breathes sulfur on Mars? Everybody Googles. It's a verb now. People know what a "hit" on a website is.

Even the stodgy old Pulitzer Prize rules allow use of more online material.

Who are we, Larry King? When he asked Roseanne if the internet is a viable political medium, he followed up by admitting that the internet is a totally foreign frontier to him. "The wife loves it. I wouldn’t love it. What do you punch little buttons and things?" Wait, he's a journalist? A news gatherer and explorer of ideas? Oh, my bad, no, he's Larry King. HUGE difference.

Come on, Earthlings. The internet is your friend. Shake its hand. Take it out for a cup of coffee. Give it a hug. It loves you, too.

Bloggity Bloggity Bloggity

My e-friend Keith Huang recently interviewed Jon Lovitz for the Apiary, which is the big brother site of my baby the Bastion. Lovitz uses his MySpace blog to answer questions people send in about comedy and acting and showbiz, which I think is fantastic. Jon Lovitz is a landed rich dude. He doesn't have to care about all these kids writing to him for advice, or spend all that time writing his replies, but he does. Good on ya, Lovitz.

Lovitz: "I enjoy helping people because there's so much stuff to know about acting and how it actually works and what you need to do. And there's a lot of misinformation out there, and people don't know what it's really like or the reality of the situation. And I, of course, didn't know anything when I first started. Standup comedy isn't a competition. You're selling your own personality, and it's completely subjective. But it's fun for me to tell people this is how you do it. And there's also satisfaction when years later people will come up to me and tell me that I told them to get into standup and now they're doing it and they've made a career out of it. I'm like, 'Really? You took my advice?' But it feels good that you can help people."

Hey! I've been nominated for Best Individual Blog in the Weblog Awards. (No, I didn't nominate myself.) And yeah, over three hundred others were also nominated, but still. It's cool.

Santa's Merry Gangbang Party Details

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Crazy Bunnies and Creativity Online

My essay "All About My Mother" is in the new issue of Estella's Revenge. Lovely editor Heather even included all my silly JPGs of Ferengis, Wentworth Miller, and, yes, my mom (as a toddler).

It would be so great if more people used the internet to prompt participatory creative exchanges across the digital divide. More stuff that's sometimes fun and silly, sometimes profound and poignant.

Stuff like Learning To Love You More. "New assignments! #58 Record the sound that is keeping you awake, #59 Interview someone who has experienced war., #60 Write a press release about an everyday event, #61 Describe your ideal government., and #62 Make an educational public plaque."

Stuff like PostSecret - "A Story of Courage and Understanding and as Told Through Secrets," now a book.

On a side note, the PostSecret postcard about Binkers reminds me of a hilarious story I keep getting more details on every time I hang out with my English friend J., who grew up under the dark shadow of a fifteen pound bunny named Snuffles, who ran free-range through the back garden of his family's home.

Snuffles was an aggressive little herbivore, who would not only terrorize any neighborhood cats unwise enough to wander into his yard, but would also charge and attempt to bite the ankles of any human who dared trespass on his territory.

This psycho-bunny also spent a lot of time, as bunnies do, burrowing through the garden, until it got to the point where every step in the grass led to sinking through to a bunny tunnel, or nearly snapping an ankle in a hole. Also, he managed to live for almost fifteen years. No wonder J. took so much pleasure in the bunny-wrangling scenes in Curse of the Were-Rabbit when we saw it last year.

Pondering Referrals

Haven't done this in awhile. Let's look at my most recent search engine match referrals, and scratch our collective head in amused puzzlement. In chronological order, starting with the most recent:

quark's mother moogie - Yay. A Star Trek reference. So much for all my cool points.

picture of a man picking his nose - So highbrow.

swaziland reed dance pictures - Have I been there? I don't think so.

Elizabeth McQuern - Hi!

pterodactyl farm comedy - Did I write about this? Someone should. That sounds like comedy gold.

coffee made from lemurs - Don't let Starbucks know about this.

recently-disgraced Harvard - This reminds me. One of my life goals is to someday see my name in newsprint, preceded by the phrase "recently disgraced."

rustbelt memorabilia - that one's for you, Prego!

indoor rocketship playground - I don't know what this is, but I want one.

The Puppy That Saved Thanksgiving

How was your Thanksgiving? Mine was pretty great. It was a lot like last year, except with a few minor cast changes and the introduction of an amazingly powerful puppy, who, with his one mighty pound of flesh, renders even the tallest and strongest men helpless. They devolve into giant piles of quivering jelly, capable only of uttering only the most primitive vocalizations. You can't tell from the picture, but the Jack Russell Terrier/Chihuahua mix my niece brought home for a visit is teacup tiny. Itty-bitty. Pocket-sized. Teeny-weeny.

Sloan and I and another friend are working on a crazy and wonderful project together. All I can say about it is that involves an extreme sport, some awesome travel, and a very ambitious creative endeavor. It's very exciting and could mean big things for all of us. Sloan has affected me in many positive ways since I hopped the Indiana/Illinois border. I am leaning more toward the veggie and yoga side of things, for example. I pay more attention to nature. Also, I get geeked out watching stuff like this. And inspired watching stuff like this. (Did you know that Learning To Love You More is a Miranda July project? I just realized that this morning.)

I'm starting to attend meetings of associations for people in communications, and I'm going to need to give some thought to my style. I don't think it would be cool for me to roll up at a networking thing on one of my bikes, in my usual comedy attire of jeans, pink Chuck Taylors, a black top, and a backpack with buttons on it. I'm not saying I'm going to wear heels or anything, but I need to at least carry something resembling an adult woman's purse.

Speaking of communications, Nate has pointed out to me and K-Rock that several online publications, including Radar, seem to now be using the layout we've been using for Bastion articles (like my interview with Eugene Mirman) since the beginning. Which is to say, including more multimedia. Seems like a no-brainer to me. I don't want to call us pioneers, because I hate Conestoga wagons even more than I hate station wagons, but hey.