10 Days

So I ran across this holiday card invite thing. “Hipster Holidays?” Wait… who exactly would use this? “Lazy marketing…” my friend DB comments. “Disturbing, yet bloody hilarious!” says the AVD Gazette.

Today I was also informed that there is a gift site. Eek.

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Following right along, AH is my fellow New Yorker devotee- although he finished Infinite Jest while I just couldn’t will myself to care. Oh yeah, we make fun of ourselves while discussing how many publications have introductions by Dave Eggers these days. He sent me this video.

Hipster Olympics

Apparently it has sparked much finger pointing and name calling among hipsters everywhere.

I want to know what happens when one hipster accuses another hipster of being a hipster? Does the universe implode?

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I also received an invitation for an event last Thursday, signed by the sender “[Name] ‘Not seeing Rob Zombie’ Proud.” (Trust me, that’s funny if you live in St. Louis.)

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Here’s a conversation I had recently while a ‘DJ’ was playing Hootie and the Blowfish. In its entirety. Completely without irony.

Me: “Dave Mathews.”

Dining Companion: “What?”

Me: “He’s gonna play Dave Mathews next.”

Dining Companion: “Ooh… good call. But no. He’s gonna play something that doesn’t go with this song, THEN he’s gonna play Dave Mathews.”

Me: “True.”

My companion launched into another conversation about the complete lack of cross fades… at all… and I got up to smoke a cigarette on the cold, yet delightfully silent, outdoor patio. A few moments later, my friend burst through the door.

Dining Companion, pointing in the window: “Dave Mathews. He’s playing Dave Mathews.”

Me: “Rawk.”

Dining Companion: “Wait, why is he wearing the headphones?”

Me: “. . .”

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Streetside Records in the Loop is closing? Sadness.

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Annie from the RFT tells Jeff Tweedy what’s up. I second that emotion.

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It’s no surprise that postal workers are, apparently, stressed. I can understand. I just couldn’t figure out to convey my understanding to postal employers I encountered yesterday without being murdered.

I was dropping off a slew of metered packages. After 5PM. Now, I’ve been doing mail for a long time, so I know better. I drive my said metered packages around to the loading dock, which is completely abandoned. So, I go around to the front, leave everything in the car, and enter the normal service area. To my joy, there was only one other customer, and 2 clerks! However, as I approached the available clerk, she looked me dead in the eye, set the “next window, please” sign down firmly in front of her, and began doing something on her computer. I hesitated for a second, then said, “Excuse me, I’m sorry, I just have a quick question…” Nothing. No response. I tried to gently proceed, “I know that metered boxes should be dropped at the dock, but-“

“I’m on a time schedule,” she said, “I can’t even listen to you right now.”

Fair enough. I took a number thingy.

The lobby rapidly filled with other customers. When it was my turn, I approached the second clerk, and explained that I had many metered boxes, I had already been to the dock, should I leave them there or bring them in to her.

She TURNED TO THE OTHER CLERK and said, “What should she do? It’s after 5.” THE OTHER CLERK (let’s review, this is clerk #1, the one with the ‘next window’ sign) proceeded to tell me to bring them in.

Ummmm?

So I brought them all in (4 trips, giant mud puddle), took another number, waited my turn again, and ended up giving them to Clerk #1, whose window was still closed.

She weighed one, and said, “These are all under-metered.”

I refused to get upset. It’s not my first day with a postage scale either. I wasn’t sure what to say though, so I smiled at her blankly and didn’t say anything at all. She weighed the same box again. “Oh,” she said, “well, it was right this time. Fine.”

Right-o. I love the holidays.

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So check out Tin Ceiling sometime. I’d tell you what’s coming up, but the website is not yet updated for 2008.

I don’t see much theatre at all anymore, but I caught “A Length of Rope” on closing night this past weekend. Exactly as another friend has already said, frankly, I thought it was going to suck. No offense (like anyone even reads this blog), but I did, especially after the unfortunate KDHX review. However, it not only fell under the category of things that do not, in fact, suck, it was actually very good.

I’m too lazy to write my own well-crafted review, so I’m just going to respond to Andrea Baum’s thoughts. Really, the things I agree with her on fall more, in my humble opinion, into fashion opinions than critique in more significant areas, and heaven knows I love criticizing fashion. The ballet flats she mentioned, worn by the female lead? Yes, those were indeed terrible. I can’t remember when I’ve seen more hideous and awkward shoes. And the skirt? Oddly enough, I considered buying it when I was at Target the other day, and I’m rather glad I passed. And, like Andrea, I didn’t understand why “Stan is inexplicably wearing an outfit tailored by Spade and Archer. He looks like the picture of David Hyde Pierce in the Curtains ad in the NY Times, fedora, trenchcoat and all.” It didn’t make sense to me. And finally, I agree with her regarding the set. ‘Nuff said.

However, although I’m the first to acknowledge the importance of sets, costumes, and lights in the context of an entire production, I don’t really show up for a play to check out the shoes. (That’s possibly the ONLY place I don’t go to do that, actually.) I found the writing insightful, meaningful, and generally funny, with only a few lines falling off- and yeah, the baby rabbit thing was in fact one, although it was made up for by a line involving bears.

I thought the direction was generally effective, and I don’t recall anyone bumping into furniture the night I attended. The director only beat me over the head with something one time, and since I just subjected myself to the horrible movie “The Golden Compass,” from which I emerged bruised and bloodied after being pummeled with the obvious, I’ll forgive him.

And as far as the actress playing the main character lacking fatale for her femme? Not the night I was there, take it from the girl who can speak with authority on matters of pulling THAT off. Her facial expression especially was dead on.

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I’m not even half-way through the back load of completely useless information that I have accumulated, but I’m posting this monstrosity already. And I refuse to proofread right now. I need an assistant…