Lindsayism.com

My Celebrity Encounters Part 2: Jack Black

(My Celebrity Encounters are about encounters I had with celebrities back when I was young and stupid and not cool enough to leave celebrities alone, which is what I do now, see: David's Law. But whatever, they happened, and I have a blog and a scanner, so here we go.)

I ask you: HOW THRILLED does Jack Black look to be with me backstage at a Tenacious D/Modest Mouse show at SXSW 2000?

He was really nice to my friend Nubia and I when we waltzed backstage like we owned the place (we were actually walking by the green room and he invited us in), but he wouldn't let either of us kiss him on the cheek for the photo because of his girlfriend (at the time his girlfriend was the awesome comedian/writer/producer Laura Kightlinger.)

(Jack Black's naughty drawing after the jump)

This is Not It.

This is one of those "I don't care if they're laughing at me as long as they're laughing" things (see: this entire blog), but pretty much everything about this picture I found last night is unintentionally funny. What can I say? Late 2001: Heady times.

I didn't know it was Easter until a text message this morning

An Easter memory: college-era, driving fast at night with then-boyfriend M on Highway 90 in Tallahassee, a brown rabbit darts out in front of his car and we feel the slight bump as he drives over it:
Him: "Ahhh, what was that??"
Me: "It was a bunny! I saw it run out but it was too late!"
Him (genuinely sad): "Awww. What did he look like?"
Me: (Pause) "Well, he looked like he knew things had been bad in the past, but he was going to turn his life around, and everything was going to be much better from now on."
Him (laughing): "F**k you."
Me: "Happy Easter!"

"Williamsburg at its Glorious Dawn"

HAHAHAHAHA.

I remember a lot of glorious and not-so-glorious dawns in Williamsburg, but none of them included fancy exclusive dinner parties:

Also check out the Delahaye/Silvestri fake flame war on the Gawker post.

burning down the house

My ex boyfriend Max's band is playing Bowery Ballroom Saturday night, and I'm bringing a posse. They're called The Information, they're from Boston, and their songs can be heard/downloaded here. My favorite is still "A Simple Plan". Even my friends who hate him like it!

(If that's not a ringing endorsement...)

They also put on a really really great show. I genuinely recommend checking them out. And the new songs aren't even about me!

(If that's not a ringing endorsement....)

Tickets here.

(They're opening for The Avengers, click photo to enlarge.)

The Past Isn't Through With Us or Whatever From Magnolia

I was just browsing my password-protected-for-a-reason old Diaryland blog, looking for something I said about Saddam once that I wanted to show a friend, when I found an entry called "Resolutions". I've bolded every resolution that I have, since this day in 2003, fulfilled. It's nice to know that if anything happens to my Senseo coffee maker, as long as it's still under warranty, I'm golden.

2003-01-02 - 2:44 p.m.

My New Year's Resolutions

This year, my resolutions mean more to me than in previous years. Why? Because last year I actually followed through with my #1 Resolution: to Quit Smoking. So this year's have taken on a new meaning, since they theoretically now have a more-than-zero chance of happening. For once.

Most of them are pretty shallow, but here they are:

1. This year I will leave the country. I'm not talking about Canada or Mexico or Epcot. I'm talking about somewhere that requires a passport. Amsterdam seems ideal for my personal interests, but I really want to go to Paris too, so we'll see. And since I'm dying to see if my tendency to get myself into bizarre situations extends beyond the borders of these United States, I think I'll have to go alone.

2. This year I will attempt to live my life as if the world is not imminently about to end AND I'm not imminently about to be "discovered" as a writer while penning an extra-delightful must-read form at the DMV.

3. This year I will stop finding my own faults so endearing.

4. This year I will not wait until the last possible minute to make the hard decisions I knew all along I would eventually have to make.

5. This year I will volunteer. I'm thinking Housingworks.

6. This year I will visit my family at least four times.

7. This year I will start saving receipts. And filling out warranty forms. And doing my taxes by the end of February. And paying my phone bill BEFORE they cut it off.

8. This year I will learn all about wine. I think I'll take a class.

9. This year I will read Gravity's Rainbow.

10. This year I will remember that it's never what you say that matters, only what you do.

(ps: for those who have been trying to get ahold of me today...my phone will be back on tomorrow morning...)

Sigh. I guess technically do know a lot more about wine, but for all the wrong reasons. And, oh yeah...I totally smoke again.

Are You There Sylvia Plath? It's Me, 15 Year Old Lindsay

This photo perfectly sums up my teenage years, except for the hat, which I think I just grabbed off my brother's head or something, because I usually wore a BERET.

(I had to scan in old photos for Sarah Brown's Cringe TV, so there might be more of these on the way. Sorry.) (Note: there's a Cringe reading tonight, see link for details.)

Weltschmerz*

Yesterday, I was going through some boxes when I found a large sealed envelope labelled "CLIPS -2000". I remember copying and putting together my clips at a temp job when I first moved here. They consisted of the "best" of my writing prior to moving to New York, when I was a film critic at the then-indie FSU paper, The Florida Flambeau. I never did anything with them or sent them anywhere. Here, out of context, I present some of my favorites:

"It seems odd to go to a movie in order to watch other people have witty conversations, but for Stillman, it works."

"Gattaca's future world serves as an apt reminder that technology can be a blessing or a curse, and we should be careful how far out we allow ourselves to swim in the pursuit of perfection."

"G.I. Jane reminds us that Top Gun can never be forgotten."

"Trainspotting and Shallow Grave were much edgier, more daring, and, ironically enough, less ordinary than this movie."

(From a roundup of 'lesser-known magazines to check out' that was basically just an excuse for me to celebrate and mourn the last issue of Might Magazine, with which I was obsessed):

"Spy Magazine is sort of like Might but not as original."

And my favorite, the last line of a review of The Matchmaker:

"Because Janeane doesn't need to change, the world does."

*Weltschmerz: German word meaning "the depression that results from comparing the actual world to the world as it ought to be." Losing word in this year's spelling bee, which I watched with my friend John Green, who believes, as I do, that this word should be incorporated into the American lexicon. Also, I want to call in sick and say "my weltschmerz is acting up again."

This Is Nothing Compared To the One I Wrote For River Phoenix

(This. Is. So. Hard.)

Ten years ago next week, a seventeen year old girl who loved musicians and melodrama lay on her bed under her green-and-pink The Queen Is Dead poster and put pen to paper to pour out her broken heart*. This (gulp) is what she wrote. If it proves anything, it's that there is no statute of limitations on the embarrassment of bad teenage poetry. 'Cause I'm dying right now. Dying.

*I'm high on the pleasant distancing effect of the third person.

Unchanged, unedited (obvs):

"Cobain"

By Lindsay Robertson

Oh denial and wisps of blond
with a sneer you bewitched the moving horde
proving sweat and blood to so many
tumbling lemmings with screams and sighs
You forced yourself upon the world
that delicate cruel thing that never loved you
Until it succumbed to your denied beguiling
and pressing, pressing
But having found yourself with an adoring fool
you tossed her aside
And you whispered:
"Nevermind."

April 16, 1994

I just hope that this brought you the joy that can only come from laughing at teenage drama queens who project their own high school soap operas onto public figures through nonsensical verse. It's a...very specific kind of joy, but I think I've cornered the market. But we all knew that girl, right?

Oh, and maybe someday if I get even braver and more masochistic, I'll post the poem I wrote when I lost my virginity. (So much blood-on-wedding-dress-imagery hottness!)

(I feel so vulnerable right now. Hold me and tell me I'm smart.)

Hey Look! This site is

Hey Look! This site is back! And now it has permanent links, thanks to the talented Ben Chappel.

(Here's the archive of the temporary 'blog I kept from December 18 - January 30.).