Monday, June 15, 2009
Be back soon!
After computer hassles and just craziness with school, I have forgotten about my dear old blog. And by old I mean new, as I've only posted a few times. I'll start again asap and with more regularity.
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Ich Bin Zum Guggenheim-en...I took French.
The Date: (As suggested) A trip to the Guggenheim Museum *Insert Hoity Toity Laugh Here*
Proof of Purchase:
The story: Easy peezy lemon squeezy, guys. In fact, it's freaking cool to go to the museum by yourself. You'll look like (or heck--be!) an intellectual individual. You can fully appreciate the art and wander from exhibit to exhibit as you please. The museum is at your every whim!...well, almost.
Bought my ticket. Eighteen buckaroonies may seem a bit pricey but it comes with a free audio tour and you can walk around the Guggenheim all day acting pretentious (which is great fun, let's admit)--oh and you see beautiful art...that, too. I try not to stress about price too much depending on where I'm going, after all I'm a pretty goood date (zing!). Ok. Done.
Walked in the museum. Imagine a contraption that glides down from the top of a big spiral, dinging a bell as it goes. It reaches the bottom where it drops a bundle of shredded books into a pile. After its job is done it floats back up to the top. A magical wonderland, perhaps? No. The Guggenheim. This show (which was a big mechanical gizmo set up just in the entrance of the Guggenheim where you can look up the spiral) would go on about every 20 minutes (the dropping of the shredded papers) and those around would lighly clap afterwards and say "Hmmm yesss consumptions and beeble blabble.." Did I get it? No. Was it cool? Yes.
(You can kinda make out the pole that was wrapped around the spiral--the mechanism would glide down on that)
(The pile of shredded books/papers)
The museum. Beyond this first entryway I wasn't allowed to take pictures--which was really quite a shame because I imagined posting a quiet photo of myself pondering a piece of art--my finger to my lip and my head cocked in deep thought. I almost got a picture of a bunch of wood piled on top of each other but the guard almost threw me off the railing. Oh well. Ah the Guggenheim Museum of Modern Art--AKA art that could be seen in horror films. Now, I did really enjoy the art pieces. Even if I may not have understood them. I'm just saying that they were creepy. Asian inspired art is dark, man. There was a film of a women with needles in her face talking all eerie...then there was an exhibit where you have to take off your shoes and the room has buzzing noises and psychedelic images that make your brain explode. There's even film of a guy sleeping...was that the artist taping himself? Was he taping a friend? Because...I wouldn't want to be that friend.
It's funny, but when you go out by yourself you notice a lot more about the things (in this case art pieces), and people around you. I was observing a black and white video of this woman dancing (cree...py)when I heard these two girls talking: "The real question is is whether these historical artifacts are considered art...they have meaning and depth behind them but do they really constitute as....(blah blah blah then she turns to me)...wouldn't yooou agree?" Shit. I was thinking about how fun it would be to take rollerblades in this place. "Yes...but does art have to mean something deep or can it just look cool?" Why am I dumb? A man from a different group hears this and laughs--love, perhaps? No I never see him again. I killed the suspense for you. This blog isn't about that.
What I learned: I like John Cage as an artist. I also like Picasso. Those blank canvases you see and you say "that's stupid I could do that"...go up realy close to them...they're not as blank as they seem (Oooooooh!). No,but really...they have a bunch of little dots.
Want to go on a date to the museums by yourself?
1. Go to the Guggenheim. Any museum. Pretentious, yes--but art you can create your own conclusions and stories from (heh heh<== That was my snooty laugh). It's a great place to go alone and there's very little awkwardness involved (which is always a great concern for me as we all know).
2. Just do it. Really. Stop being a putz.
3. Be comfortable. You're by yourself there's no one to impress (my mistake is I'll dress nice thinking I'm going to meet the man of my dreams. It just ruins your time and disapoints you. Dates with yourself shouldn't be about finding people they're about connecting with YOU!). Especially at the museums where you may do a lot of walking/standing...no need to be miserable.
4. Enjoy it. You have the opportunity to really look at the art without any other opinions to sway you. Do IT.
Proof of Purchase:
The story: Easy peezy lemon squeezy, guys. In fact, it's freaking cool to go to the museum by yourself. You'll look like (or heck--be!) an intellectual individual. You can fully appreciate the art and wander from exhibit to exhibit as you please. The museum is at your every whim!...well, almost.
Bought my ticket. Eighteen buckaroonies may seem a bit pricey but it comes with a free audio tour and you can walk around the Guggenheim all day acting pretentious (which is great fun, let's admit)--oh and you see beautiful art...that, too. I try not to stress about price too much depending on where I'm going, after all I'm a pretty goood date (zing!). Ok. Done.
Walked in the museum. Imagine a contraption that glides down from the top of a big spiral, dinging a bell as it goes. It reaches the bottom where it drops a bundle of shredded books into a pile. After its job is done it floats back up to the top. A magical wonderland, perhaps? No. The Guggenheim. This show (which was a big mechanical gizmo set up just in the entrance of the Guggenheim where you can look up the spiral) would go on about every 20 minutes (the dropping of the shredded papers) and those around would lighly clap afterwards and say "Hmmm yesss consumptions and beeble blabble.." Did I get it? No. Was it cool? Yes.
(You can kinda make out the pole that was wrapped around the spiral--the mechanism would glide down on that)
(The pile of shredded books/papers)
The museum. Beyond this first entryway I wasn't allowed to take pictures--which was really quite a shame because I imagined posting a quiet photo of myself pondering a piece of art--my finger to my lip and my head cocked in deep thought. I almost got a picture of a bunch of wood piled on top of each other but the guard almost threw me off the railing. Oh well. Ah the Guggenheim Museum of Modern Art--AKA art that could be seen in horror films. Now, I did really enjoy the art pieces. Even if I may not have understood them. I'm just saying that they were creepy. Asian inspired art is dark, man. There was a film of a women with needles in her face talking all eerie...then there was an exhibit where you have to take off your shoes and the room has buzzing noises and psychedelic images that make your brain explode. There's even film of a guy sleeping...was that the artist taping himself? Was he taping a friend? Because...I wouldn't want to be that friend.
It's funny, but when you go out by yourself you notice a lot more about the things (in this case art pieces), and people around you. I was observing a black and white video of this woman dancing (cree...py)when I heard these two girls talking: "The real question is is whether these historical artifacts are considered art...they have meaning and depth behind them but do they really constitute as....(blah blah blah then she turns to me)...wouldn't yooou agree?" Shit. I was thinking about how fun it would be to take rollerblades in this place. "Yes...but does art have to mean something deep or can it just look cool?" Why am I dumb? A man from a different group hears this and laughs--love, perhaps? No I never see him again. I killed the suspense for you. This blog isn't about that.
What I learned: I like John Cage as an artist. I also like Picasso. Those blank canvases you see and you say "that's stupid I could do that"...go up realy close to them...they're not as blank as they seem (Oooooooh!). No,but really...they have a bunch of little dots.
Want to go on a date to the museums by yourself?
1. Go to the Guggenheim. Any museum. Pretentious, yes--but art you can create your own conclusions and stories from (heh heh<== That was my snooty laugh). It's a great place to go alone and there's very little awkwardness involved (which is always a great concern for me as we all know).
2. Just do it. Really. Stop being a putz.
3. Be comfortable. You're by yourself there's no one to impress (my mistake is I'll dress nice thinking I'm going to meet the man of my dreams. It just ruins your time and disapoints you. Dates with yourself shouldn't be about finding people they're about connecting with YOU!). Especially at the museums where you may do a lot of walking/standing...no need to be miserable.
4. Enjoy it. You have the opportunity to really look at the art without any other opinions to sway you. Do IT.
Saturday, February 21, 2009
Slumsnot Millionembarassments...I'm bad at these
The date: A viewing of "Slumdog Millionaire"--Friday night 8 pm show (AKA the couples' hour)
Proof of purchase:
If you look closely you can see my awe-struck eyes over a pile of popcorn.
The story: As far as dates with yourself go, the movies aren't so bad. Typically, the hardest part is purchasing your ticket ("only one, please") and walking in. Then the lights go out and no ones the wiser. Last night, however, was not typical.
Bought my ticket. Easy. Walked inside the theatre which begins with a sort of "vegan cafe"--(yeah, ok...where's the popcorn?)I step inside and it's like those scenes from the westerns where the music stops and everyone looks up...Except everyone was drinking coffee instead of whiskey and they had laptops instead of guns--also no one challenged me to a duel of any sort.
Walked in the theatre. I was beginning to feel like a pansy for doing this movie date...this really wasn't too embarassing it's not like I haven't gone to the movies by myself before. I was worried what I was going to relay to you people. So I purchased a popcorn and M&M's. That's right. A lot of us women hate eating alone. We'll often tell our friends that we're not eating unless they get something too. Then when we both are eating we'll constantly check the others progress in their food--just to make sure we don't look like we're eating too fast. It's really quite sick if you think about it. Anyway, so not only am I alone but I'm alone and shoving my face with gratuitis amounts of butter (it was one of those "put the butter on yourself" things...I was very generous)then mixing said butter with handfuls of colorful chocolate. Did I mention there was a vegan cafe upstairs?
Sat in the theatre. I walk in from the back and quietly find a chair on the aisle. There are the single chairs in the back (usually used for those with handicapped friends) to ensure I wouldn't have to endure actually sitting next to another person but I want a better view so I move forward. I have my own row for quite awhile despite all the incoming customers--it actually began to make me nervous. Was I a leper of the community? Forced to sit in my own row for fear of infection? Or maybe I'm a bit dramatic. I don't know. Eventually the theatre fills up and an older man in a group of two other men and one woman (Hmm) has to sit next to me.
It begins. Now,let me explain something of importance. I've been quite ill all week. I was better at this point but my sinuses are a little clogged and start to get worse while waiting for the movie to start. I feel the moist driplets begin to build in my nose. I look in my purse. Oh. my. God. I didn't bring any tissues! Simple, you say, just get up and get some! And here's what I say back to that--remember the popcorn and the chocolate? Remember that it's cold out and I also have a jacket and a scarf? Remember that I'm alone and no one can save my seat or watch my stuff in the ever more crowded theatre?!?!? It's ok. You forgot.
So I find one singular senstation...one already semi-moist tissue in my purse. Gross, you say. I'm in a pinch so suck it, I say. I'm blowing snot and my eyes begin to water intensely, like they often do when your sinuses are haywire. The man next to me looks and sighs. The movie begins he shoots several of these looks at me. Watch the damn movie it's up for awards! I didn't really say that. I'm trying to be as polite as possible, turning my head to quietly wipe at my nose(give me a break I thought I was better)...then I realize as the man whispers to the girl he's with--who in turn looks over with a "poor thing" frown on her face--that he thinks I'm crying! The snot, the running eyes! I'm by myself! He probably thinks I got stood up! He probably thinks that I'm alone in the world and crying at my fate! He probably is wondering if Hugh Jackman will deliver at the Academy Awards! (Oh I'm quick all right).
The movie ends. I get up and rush out immediately as I see the first of the credits.I run to the restroom. I look like a wreck--like somebody died. "Touching movie, huh?" a woman says. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. It does look like I cried. Why. can't. I. be. invisible. I don't know what to say I want to explain that no, I'm sick but who really wants to hear that when they're in an enclosed space with someone? I smile and say mmhmm and run out of the bathroom up the stairs out of the theatre. Ok I didn't run. I walked pretty calmly. I grab some napkins on the way out to finally REALLY blow my nose. My nose is now raw. But the movie was pretty good.
What I learned: The Indian host of "Who Wants to be a Millionaire" isn't nearly as charming as Regis or Meredith.
Want to go on a date with youself to the movies?
1. Despite my experience (which was greatly at my own fault and awkwardness) I highly suggest it. Even if you're in a relationship, have a big, tight group of friends--alone time is important. Seeing a movie alone is a true assessment on whether you really liked it or not. You have no other opinions influencing you. There may not be anyone to debate with after the movie, but you'll be working your mandulla oblongata by playing devil's advocate in your head. Beyond that it's just relaxing--it keeps you from forgetting yourself.
2. Bring tissues. Even if you don't have a cold you don't know what that movie has up its sleeve. Even if you don't think you'll ever cry at movies, well...go see "Marley and Me." Also, bring cough drops.
3. Don't be afraid to buy food. There's no better place to shove your face then in the dark. It adds to the movie experience and it shows that you're not uncomfortable or unconfident with yourself/being alone.
4. Don't drink too much! If you're alone and have a lot of items or the theatres really crowded and you don't want to lose your seat, getting up isn't much of an option. If you're braver then I you can also ask the person next to you to watch your stuff--but you're putting your trust in their hands...and your coat.
5. Men--I feel like a movie date alone for men is harder. Simply because men have the creepy factor--especially if they have a fetish for the romantic comedies. The creepy factor shouldn't stop you from going, boys! Just don't act creepy! Don't sit right next to or right behind a woman when there's not many people in the theatre. Don't act shifty in your seat! Be confident (if you like romantic comedies flaunt it it's actually attractive)! Do react to the movie! It's ok to laugh...if you're staring blankly at the screen and lowering in your seat we're going to think that you're a murderer. Or at least I will and I can't be the only freak on the planet.
Proof of purchase:
If you look closely you can see my awe-struck eyes over a pile of popcorn.
The story: As far as dates with yourself go, the movies aren't so bad. Typically, the hardest part is purchasing your ticket ("only one, please") and walking in. Then the lights go out and no ones the wiser. Last night, however, was not typical.
Bought my ticket. Easy. Walked inside the theatre which begins with a sort of "vegan cafe"--(yeah, ok...where's the popcorn?)I step inside and it's like those scenes from the westerns where the music stops and everyone looks up...Except everyone was drinking coffee instead of whiskey and they had laptops instead of guns--also no one challenged me to a duel of any sort.
Walked in the theatre. I was beginning to feel like a pansy for doing this movie date...this really wasn't too embarassing it's not like I haven't gone to the movies by myself before. I was worried what I was going to relay to you people. So I purchased a popcorn and M&M's. That's right. A lot of us women hate eating alone. We'll often tell our friends that we're not eating unless they get something too. Then when we both are eating we'll constantly check the others progress in their food--just to make sure we don't look like we're eating too fast. It's really quite sick if you think about it. Anyway, so not only am I alone but I'm alone and shoving my face with gratuitis amounts of butter (it was one of those "put the butter on yourself" things...I was very generous)then mixing said butter with handfuls of colorful chocolate. Did I mention there was a vegan cafe upstairs?
Sat in the theatre. I walk in from the back and quietly find a chair on the aisle. There are the single chairs in the back (usually used for those with handicapped friends) to ensure I wouldn't have to endure actually sitting next to another person but I want a better view so I move forward. I have my own row for quite awhile despite all the incoming customers--it actually began to make me nervous. Was I a leper of the community? Forced to sit in my own row for fear of infection? Or maybe I'm a bit dramatic. I don't know. Eventually the theatre fills up and an older man in a group of two other men and one woman (Hmm) has to sit next to me.
It begins. Now,let me explain something of importance. I've been quite ill all week. I was better at this point but my sinuses are a little clogged and start to get worse while waiting for the movie to start. I feel the moist driplets begin to build in my nose. I look in my purse. Oh. my. God. I didn't bring any tissues! Simple, you say, just get up and get some! And here's what I say back to that--remember the popcorn and the chocolate? Remember that it's cold out and I also have a jacket and a scarf? Remember that I'm alone and no one can save my seat or watch my stuff in the ever more crowded theatre?!?!? It's ok. You forgot.
So I find one singular senstation...one already semi-moist tissue in my purse. Gross, you say. I'm in a pinch so suck it, I say. I'm blowing snot and my eyes begin to water intensely, like they often do when your sinuses are haywire. The man next to me looks and sighs. The movie begins he shoots several of these looks at me. Watch the damn movie it's up for awards! I didn't really say that. I'm trying to be as polite as possible, turning my head to quietly wipe at my nose(give me a break I thought I was better)...then I realize as the man whispers to the girl he's with--who in turn looks over with a "poor thing" frown on her face--that he thinks I'm crying! The snot, the running eyes! I'm by myself! He probably thinks I got stood up! He probably thinks that I'm alone in the world and crying at my fate! He probably is wondering if Hugh Jackman will deliver at the Academy Awards! (Oh I'm quick all right).
The movie ends. I get up and rush out immediately as I see the first of the credits.I run to the restroom. I look like a wreck--like somebody died. "Touching movie, huh?" a woman says. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. It does look like I cried. Why. can't. I. be. invisible. I don't know what to say I want to explain that no, I'm sick but who really wants to hear that when they're in an enclosed space with someone? I smile and say mmhmm and run out of the bathroom up the stairs out of the theatre. Ok I didn't run. I walked pretty calmly. I grab some napkins on the way out to finally REALLY blow my nose. My nose is now raw. But the movie was pretty good.
What I learned: The Indian host of "Who Wants to be a Millionaire" isn't nearly as charming as Regis or Meredith.
Want to go on a date with youself to the movies?
1. Despite my experience (which was greatly at my own fault and awkwardness) I highly suggest it. Even if you're in a relationship, have a big, tight group of friends--alone time is important. Seeing a movie alone is a true assessment on whether you really liked it or not. You have no other opinions influencing you. There may not be anyone to debate with after the movie, but you'll be working your mandulla oblongata by playing devil's advocate in your head. Beyond that it's just relaxing--it keeps you from forgetting yourself.
2. Bring tissues. Even if you don't have a cold you don't know what that movie has up its sleeve. Even if you don't think you'll ever cry at movies, well...go see "Marley and Me." Also, bring cough drops.
3. Don't be afraid to buy food. There's no better place to shove your face then in the dark. It adds to the movie experience and it shows that you're not uncomfortable or unconfident with yourself/being alone.
4. Don't drink too much! If you're alone and have a lot of items or the theatres really crowded and you don't want to lose your seat, getting up isn't much of an option. If you're braver then I you can also ask the person next to you to watch your stuff--but you're putting your trust in their hands...and your coat.
5. Men--I feel like a movie date alone for men is harder. Simply because men have the creepy factor--especially if they have a fetish for the romantic comedies. The creepy factor shouldn't stop you from going, boys! Just don't act creepy! Don't sit right next to or right behind a woman when there's not many people in the theatre. Don't act shifty in your seat! Be confident (if you like romantic comedies flaunt it it's actually attractive)! Do react to the movie! It's ok to laugh...if you're staring blankly at the screen and lowering in your seat we're going to think that you're a murderer. Or at least I will and I can't be the only freak on the planet.
Friday, February 20, 2009
Breaking "single awareness" everywhere...
Recently, as we all know, was the dreaded day of Valentine's. Single women everywhere bought a pint of Ben and Jerry's and watched romantic comedies until they fell into a deep diabetic coma. My friend called me up shortly after this holiday and dubbed it "single awareness day."
...Why? Why are we so aware/afraid of being single? This goes beyond just wanting to be in a relationship. It's always uncomfortable going to a movie without a friend or, worse, a restaurant. It's awkward. It feels weird saying table for one. We assume everybody is staring at us and saying, "All alone, poor thing."
The few that do do (Ha! do do...I'm a child) this, I commend you. You are one in the independent fight to be 'single' and loving it--in every sense of the word.
I'm starting this blog as a tribute to those people, as a way to better myself and my awkwardness and as a stand against "single awareness." I'll try to go on dates with myself as often as I can and blog post-date...what a better place to do this then NYC? I belive there was a Sex and the City episode where SJP goes to a restaurant with "no book to protect her"...or something like that (ok...yes...cliche to use a SATC example when speaking of NY (why can't I just spell all these things out anyway?)). Let's stop waiting for someone to come along and entertain us! Let's go on a date with ourselves!.....Ok that sounded plural when really this is a single event...you know what I mean.
Have suggestions for a date with myself? Let me know! (I'm up for *mostly* anything)
-Jen
...Why? Why are we so aware/afraid of being single? This goes beyond just wanting to be in a relationship. It's always uncomfortable going to a movie without a friend or, worse, a restaurant. It's awkward. It feels weird saying table for one. We assume everybody is staring at us and saying, "All alone, poor thing."
The few that do do (Ha! do do...I'm a child) this, I commend you. You are one in the independent fight to be 'single' and loving it--in every sense of the word.
I'm starting this blog as a tribute to those people, as a way to better myself and my awkwardness and as a stand against "single awareness." I'll try to go on dates with myself as often as I can and blog post-date...what a better place to do this then NYC? I belive there was a Sex and the City episode where SJP goes to a restaurant with "no book to protect her"...or something like that (ok...yes...cliche to use a SATC example when speaking of NY (why can't I just spell all these things out anyway?)). Let's stop waiting for someone to come along and entertain us! Let's go on a date with ourselves!.....Ok that sounded plural when really this is a single event...you know what I mean.
Have suggestions for a date with myself? Let me know! (I'm up for *mostly* anything)
-Jen
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
