* Memorable movie scenes, played out by those annoying moving emoticons.
* Patton Oswalt's new bride defends his honor against the "Heathers". (Nobody is a bigger Patton fan than me, but public figures are public figures. He who setteth forth to Google his own name deserveth what he getteth.)
Sooooooo, last night I participated in an evening celebrating the book The Underminer by Mike Albo with Virginia Heffernan, at Joe's Pub. I was really nervous because 1. I'm not a performer-type-person and 2. the show was so sold out that none of my friends could get in, so I spent over an hour backstage surrounded by dancers and actors, trying to blend into the wall and looking intently at my phone, as if I was reading an extremely important text message. It was like 9th grade but with a phone instead of a book. I kept telling Mike that if the show went long and they needed to cut me, it would be totally fine (as instructed, I had come prepared to give my "Underminer testimonial" - a short story about something mean that a girl said to me once.)
So I was watching the show from the audience when the comedian Todd Levin, who I know and like, came out to give his testimonial. He told a story about a few years ago when he was working on a manuscript that he just couldn't seem to finish, and one night he was out with friends when he met a person who said "You have a book, right?" When he said no, the person said "No, I saw it in Barnes and Noble!" and then kept insisting and saying loudly "Everyone, Todd has a book, right?" It was a funny story about Todd's mortification and this person's obnoxiousness, and everyone laughed.
But I stood there, frozen. Why? BECAUSE THAT PERSON WAS ME. I was the Underminer in Todd's story! When I met Todd two years ago, I was a fan of his website and could have SWORN I'd seen a book by him. When he said he didn't have one, I thought he was being modest!
I was kind of embarrassed but I decided to change my testimonial and make it about this instead. It was just too authentic not to use. On my way backstage, I ran into Todd and said "Oh my god, that was me, I'm sorry!" and he said "I know, I'm sorry, I didn't think you'd remember, it was so long ago, and it's not a mean story!" I totally got it. Todd seemed much more worried about it than I was. I mean, come on, how seriously would I have to take myself not to realize how funny this situation was?
So finally, after more waiting around, Murray Hill introduced me (as "Blogger/Stalker Lindsay Robertson"... OF COURSE) and I walked out and confessed that the Underminer in Todd's story was me. I was going to call him up to the stage for a hug but the place was packed and it would have been impossible. My story lasted less than a minute, I think, and when I walked off the stage and behind the curtain, I forgot there were stairs there and fell straight down two or three steps (OF COURSE). I wasn't sure how visible it was to the audience and I landed straight up on my feet, so I shrugged it off.
After the show me and Todd had an "are we cool, dude?" talk and people kept coming up to us and asking if the story was real. I assured Todd that I totally got it. And we were cool, dude.
Then this blogger chick I know came up and said "Not to sound Underminery but are you okay Lindsay? You totally fell off the stage."
Anyways, it was a fun night -- Mike performed some new Underminer material, which I hope he turns into a sequel. Alan Cumming was great performing a passage from the book. After the show he invited me to this little slumber party thing he's having tomorrow night. He says I'm going to be so surprised at who's there, he can't wait to see the look on my face. Just kidding, I didn't talk to him at all.
Anyways, that's my story -- and it's my favorite kind, the kind in which I am a bumbling idiot. Luckily, I won't be suffering from writer's block any time soon.
An Evening with The Underminer: The Best Friend Who Casually Destroys Your Life
Participants include Murray Hill, Jackie Hoffman, Alan Cumming (!), and me.
Joe's Pub, 425 Lafayette St., (212) 539-8778. 9:30 p.m. $15 cover; 2 drink minimum.
Let the healing begin!
The Underminer just came out in paperback.
"The key to a successful ensemble drama, I have discovered, is convoluted interrelationality. Remember that complicated and implausible are often excellent proxies for complex and challenging, so we need to be sure that all of our characters know each other, even if they run in very different circles in a very big city."
Doors at 8, show starts at 8:30. Get tickets online here. Last month the show sold out, so we're advising our friends to get tickets online. (But now that I've said that...)
* You already can't swing a laptop bag around Lolita without hitting someone who thinks that blogging is going to make them rich. (And please, someone do that.) Now it's going to be even worse. These kids today with the scary dollar signs behind their eyes...
* Speaking of, my friend had a genius idea: I should have done that blogger-fashion photo shoot, but worn a fat suit and blacked out my teeth. Because that's what Amy Sedaris would do! (WWASD) Brilliant...
* Right now I'm wearing a new fragrance: Curious by Britney Spears. The main reason is I think it smells good, but the secondary reason is it's my attempt to bring irony into the realm of scent. I do think it smells good, though. Very delicate. Anyway, I can't wait for someone to ask me what my perfume is! (I also think it's funny that it's called "curious." Like "What's that curious smell?")
Me and Stephanie had an art day on Saturday. Stephanie and her boyfriend David have art day every weekend and are both really great artists, so at first I was intimidated, but after a few false starts I finally got the idea to celebrate the short life of my former bunny, JonBenet, with a commemorative painting. David took a picture:
(It's retarded, but I'm so proud of it.)
(JonBenet is not for-sure dead, actually.)
(Like that graphic? I designed it myself a long time ago. Clearly.)
It's been a lonnng time since I've asked for or put up Highdeas.
What are Highdeas? Silly but often brilliant ideas that sound like their inventor must have been smoking pot when s/he came up with them.
How to send yours in:
- Send an email to me with the subject line "Highdeas."
- Be sure to include the name you want me to use and your link, if you have one.
- I hate to be a business hippie, but please use punctuation.
- Keep in mind that the first two Highdeas that any person has seem to be:
- A restaurant where all the food has pot in it.
- A celebrity magazine about regular people. (Which was done very well in mock-up form by Emily and Alice, and is on the best-of page above.)
- The concept that is Dodgeball.
Here are some new ones, and by "new" I mean "received in the last six months". (Most of them I can't credit because the person didn't specifically give permission.)
Eric W.: "What I've always thought would be cool would be a snack like a granola bar, only it would be made from vegetables. Dried carrots, celery, radishes, lettuce that comes in various flavors, like French, Ranch, Thousand Island, Balsamic Vinaigrette, etc. And of course, it would be called the Salad Bar. I can't see how this wouldn't be wildly successful."
F.B.: "When you meet people that you like, you should exchange cards that have your name, your e-mail address, your electronic messaging (aim/yahoo/and if anyone still uses icq i would LOVE to meet them), and the phone number you prefer to receive calls at; and on the back, what you define as "dating." example:
"3 'dates,' hanging out on a regular basis, regular making out, semi-regular groping, bonin' -- maybe. Zsa zsa zsu optional."
Brett: "Everyone knows that CheezWiz is a great invention, but it still seems like so much effort to break out the crackers and the ham, and then to rip the ham into little cracker-sized pieces. Personally, I'd like to see some Ham-n-CheezWiz on the market. If we can put a man on the moon, we can get ham in a can." (Ed: ewww!)
"Clear Eyes for the Stoned Guy": "4 dudes show up at a guy's house and get stoned with him. They evaluate his pot, taste his selection of munchies, check out if he's cool stoned, and make recommendations to improve his stoned experience. Maybe get better pot, switch to a bong, teach him how to roll a better joint, etc. Of course, if he's a bad stoner they will tell him to chill out and maybe take it a little easier on the bud. It's like that other show, but with a "twist"."
(Ed: I like this one because I'm always having to give my friends lectures on properly hydrating their weed.)
1. AIR DJing Competition:
the only prop would be a podium of some sort. Competitors would have to
really use their imagination, convincing holding a pair of invisible
headphones, spinning invisible records, pushing invisible buttons, and being
retarded jerkoffs to invisible people asking for requests.
2. ART EXHIBIT:
A big mound of planted grass. every couple of hours, a portion of the grass
would be painted with a different color of eco-friendly paint so that you
could simultaneously watch grass grow and paint dry.
And one of mine:
A talking figurine that says either "That's what she said" or "That's what he said" when you push the button. Celebrites (or, you know, comedians) could do the voices. This could be sold at Spencer's Gifts and would pretty much eliminate the need for my presence at creative meetings at work.
(Incidentally, I'm making a "That's What He Said" tshirt this weekend.)
Now, send yours in! If you want.
(Nobody's going to talk about this outside of email? Fuck it, I'll talk about this!)
Yesterday, blogger and self-described famous public figure Stephanie Klein announced that she was pregnant. Her commenters went crazy with joy, posting 100 comments of congratulations in the comment section. Then, much later that day, Stephanie posted that in actuality, long before her announcement, the fetus was found to be deformed and that she was no longer pregnant.
Everything above appeared on Stephanie's blog, where she seems to be basking in the attention of her Oprah's-audience-like followers.
So what are we, Stephanie's public, to make of all this?
If I might share what appears outside of Stephanie's moderated comments section to be the unanimous opinion: we are no longer dealing with the world's worst, yet most self-congratulatory blogger. We are now dealing with a person who wasn't going to let a little thing like a nonexistent baby get in the way of her pregnancy attention.
What kind of person would use something as tragic as the loss of their pregnancy as fodder for a BLOG that deals primarily with what she's eating (and who she's fucking) for dinner? That includes more than 12,000 individual words about her hair?
You can say that I'm mean, you can say that this kind of thing is off-limits, but I say that what's off limits the degree of manipulation that went into what at best was a publicity stunt and what at worst was a cry for help by a very sick person.
Actually, at worst it was a publicity stunt. I'm not a psychiatrist, but if I were I would spend the rest of my life swimming in a large pool filled with the grant money I'd get using Stephanie as a research subject. Sweetie, I know you're reading this: go get help. You're going to make some Amsterdam Avenue shrink very happy.