Have you ever seen The Royal Tennenbaums? I watched it for the first time about a year and a half ago…SO good! On Saturday I tried to catch up on Glee episodes…meaning I watched one…but it was the one where Gwyneth Paltrow plays a wacky, hammy substitute teacher and sings C-Lo’s “Forget You”–um, awesome. So I guess I’ve been thinking about Gwyneth Paltrow lately, because yesterday for some reason I was thinking of Sliding Doors, which was one of my faves in high school. Not a fave now, but worth watching. Kinda plays with ideas of fate and all that. Then, today, I saw this, and it’s freakin’ sweet. And that’s all.
John Mayer at Verizon Wireless Amphitheater in Irvine, 8/24/10
John Mayer talked a lot about loneliness at his show the other night. Before he sang “Perfectly Lonely” he told the crowd that all the tabloids weren’t true, that he really is single. He just plays music and goes home, he said. And then he made some jokes about looking at porn that I couldn’t quite hear because I was making my way to the bathrooms at the top of the stadium. No matter. I got the point. He was perfectly happy with his loneliness…preferred it, maybe, to the risk and unpredictability of a real relationship.
Later, though, before his encore song “Edge of Desire,”** JM talked about how we’ve all been in that place where we’re laying on our bed with our cell phone on our chest, willing it to ring, to vibrate, to give us the message: “I want you.” He held his hand out, palm up, fingers curled in a little like he was holding a bug, and said that’s what it’s like—the shuddering of an insect’s wings, whispering, “I…buzz…want…buzz…you…buzz.” Every heart in that amphitheater ached a little as he said it, every memory flashed back to the time they really did lay with the phone on their chest, desperate for that person, but deeper still, desperate to be wanted.
Rejection—being unwanted—is at the root of so much of our most profound pain. It cripples us and, like a degenerative disease, compounds itself so that the more rejected we feel, the more we act in ways that cause others to reject us. So it makes sense, then, that we would seek out the opposite—the state of being wanted—as the cure to our pain. Sometimes we seek it out as a panacea, as an elixir from a mythical fountain of life and healing. I think that’s why John Mayer wrote that song, “Edge of Desire,” that has lines like
Don’t say a word, just come over and lie here with me
Cause I’m just about to set fire to everything I see
I want you so bad I’ll go back on the things I believe
There I just said it, I’m scared you’ll forget about me.
The concert was a process, really. From John Mayer pretending like loneliness is fun or glamorous, to unearthing one of the most ancient, universal ailments of humanity. We all know that desperation: to be noticed, to be remembered—it’s not just about sex or romance or even companionship. It’s a fear of being forgotten, of melting into invisibility, a fear so great that we’re afraid to be alone with ourselves because we’re willing to destroy whatever lies in our path just so we might actually be seen, to betray our deepest selves and trade our long-held allegiances for a few sweet moments of acceptance.
It’s the human condition, I guess. While there’s something beautiful about the way John Mayer empties his pockets and lets the ugly, broken bits of the reality of loneliness swirl around his feet onstage every night of his Battle Studies tour, I also really appreciate Elizabeth Gilbert’s words in Eat, Pray, Love. She’s been there—wallowing in loneliness, letting it wash over her like a wave and course through her like a river. But later, she moves forward:
“When I get lonely these days, I think: So BE lonely, Liz. Learn your way around loneliness. Make a map of it. Sit with it, for once in your life. Welcome to the human experience. But never again use another person’s body or emotions as a scratching post for your own unfulfilled yearnings.”
I guess I’m somewhere between these two. Sometimes I want to be invited, not because I want to go, but because I want to be wanted. Sometimes I just want to hear someone breathing next to me as I study or watch a movie. Sometimes that desire is great enough that I feel on the edge of desire, or destruction, or desperation…they usually all blur together. But once in a while I grit my teeth and I stay with it, and refuse to run or check out or self-medicate. Erwin McManus once said that you shouldn’t run away from your fear—the only thing to do is run straight toward it.
**For reference, below is a video montage of John Mayer’s winter Battle Studies tour, set to the song “Edge of Desire.”
Last night, I went to CalTech to see Anne Lamott speak about her new book, Imperfect Birds.
From the minute she opened her mouth, I loved her more than I have before. She was full of wisdom and truth, had the most soothing voice, and had the grace of someone who is comfortable in her own skin. I was actually kind of surprised by how beautiful she is…I’ve sometimes imagined her with a wild-eyed look, but there was none of that.
She told us that the title of the book is from the words of the Persian mystic, Rumi: “Each has to enter the nest of the other imperfect bird.” Anne said that all we have to offer is welcome, from one imperfect bird to another, into our ragtag nest for a cuppa tea, which is just enough even when it seems impossible that could be. She also pointed out that it’s ludicrous to think of ever coming upon an imperfect bird. If we came upon a bird who was sick, or injured, or its feathers were a little tattered, the word “imperfect” would never cross our minds, Anne is sure. Rather, “we would just see the bird of it.” Oh, if only I could have such grace for myself!
A couple other favorite, unrelated quotes from the evening:
“I always underestimate the magnetism of the temptation to get outside yourself.”
“If you’re a girl over 12 years old in this country and not really mad, I think you’ve missed the boat.”
And of course, I stood in line to meet her and it was nice but mostly awkward. I mean, what do you say, when you’re being pushed through the line like a kid in the school cafeteria waiting for a scoop of mashed potatoes? Two people ahead of me, a woman commiserated with Anne about the loss of their fathers to brain cancer. The next woman said, “Thank you for giving me the permission to write shitty first drafts,” referring to one of Anne’s famous bits of writing wisdom. Then it was me. I had asked the lady opening the books for Anne to sign if a photo would be okay, and then they were pushing me around the back of the table to pose for a picture before I could even address Anne herself. I felt like Ralphie in A Christmas Story, being plopped onto Santa’s lap by overtired, underpaid elves. I managed to tell her she’s encouraged me in my writing, and encouraged me to be real. “Well, I guess tonight’s all about giving permission,” she said, and asked, “Are you writing now?” I managed to squeak out, “Yes” before I was being edged out by the next fan.
I had wanted to say something to move her, to give my words as a gift to her to bless her back for the blessing she’s been to me. But it seemed like nothing could touch her, every word we said slid off of her shoulders. Have you ever seen those quarter games at an arcade, where there’s mechanical shelves full of coins, and you drop a quarter in a slot, aiming the chute to a place on the shelf where the quarters are about to be pushed off into the receptacle at the bottom. I wanted to be the one to drop some words in the slot and move all those other words off a shelf in her heart so she could collect all the treasure we were bringing to her.
Instead, I walked away in a daze, clutching my tattered copy of Traveling Mercies that now bore her signature in loopy letters on the inside cover.
Apparently, a lot of people have been finding my blog lately by typing “Legolas” into the Google Image search engine. The picture I used for this one post is the first image result to pop up! Weird. If you’re reading this blog and feel upset that it’s not a fansite, may I offer you this consolation: the author of this blog is an Orlando Bloom lookalike. With that comforting knowledge, feel free to wander the archives and comment if you like. Doesn’t matter how you got here…the more the merrier!
We had a day off today and I went to the cinema here in Berlin with Anne-Mai. (Fun fact: They sell wine and beer at the concession stand!) I really wanted to see Valkyrie, cause how cool would that be to see in Berlin? I could almost justify spending money on it, then, because it’s more of a cultural experience and not just a movie. Right?
But Valkyrie hasn’t been released yet here in Germany, so we saw Twilight instead.
I am so embarrassed about how much I liked that movie. I mean, I really liked it! Despite the reservations I had while watching it, the biggest of which was why the heck would this girl be attracted to a vampire lifestyle? You can never eat or sleep again. Those are two of the greatest pleasures in life! Also, when she’s all cuddled up to Edward? I mean, wouldn’t that suck, considering it would be like snuggling with an ice sculpture? I’m just saying.
Okay, but seriously, I’m not so embarrassed that I liked the movie. But I AM embarrassed at how swoony I felt over Robert Pattinson’s character, Edward! I feel like they made him in a factory by pushing the button “Teen Dream Heart Throb.” If I was 14 I would totally be covering my walls with collages made from Tiger Beat magazine right now.
But come on, can you blame me? With his sculpted features, creamy skin, and wild, modern-day-James-Dean hair…sigh. In my defense, I did also love him as Cedric Diggory in Harry Potter. Take a look at him and try NOT to swoon:
So, I saw Iron Man last Friday night. When I first heard it came out, I knew nothing about it. Like, I hadn’t even seen a trailer. Then after it came out everyone was raving about it, and then I heard that Robert Downey, Jr. plays Iron Man. And then I wanted to see it.
I have loved Robert Downey Jr. since I was a kid and watched him in sentimental movies like Hearts and Souls and Only You. Then, in high school, I went through a serious Ally McBeal obsession. They were running that show on FX like 800 times a day (fun fact: that same year they filmed an episode for the last season at the ice rink I worked at, and I got to meet Ally McBeal/Calista Flockhart!). Anyway, RDJ played Ally’s love interest during parts of season 4 and season 5, and I just loved him (despite the fact that his character’s name was Larry). His incredible wit, his rough-around-the-edges good looks, and his confident, don’t give a damn attitude are irresistable. In Hollywood, where tanned, blond-streaked (and yes, beautiful) Jude Law and Brad Pitt-types rule the world and the screen; RDJ is a welcome contrast.
We all know he’s been through some rough patches and taken a few wrong turns, but he’s got a couple of projects lined up for us to look forward to and I’m glad he’s back.
I freaking love this guy. His song, “Love Today” was pretty much the theme song of our DTS…at least mine and Becca’s. I don’t love every song of his, but songs like “Happy Endings” and “Relax, Take it Easy” are also good. On my way from Taipei to Sydney, I watched “MIKA: Live in Paris” on the plane, and during the “Big Girl (You are Beautiful)” number, two overweight girls in straight up fishnets, corsets, and cowboy hats came out and danced all up on him. Awesome. He’s impossibly skinny, but don’t hold it against him. For a good time, give MIKA a listen. Continue reading →
Why, oh why, am I so powerless in the clutches of the CW? I knew I shouldn’t watch the pilot of Gossip Girl, but I Tivoed it anyway. And despite my disgust with the way the show portrays sixteen-year-olds partying, talking, and drinking like 35-year olds (what kind of bar serves a martini to a high schooler?), I still find myself drawn in to the drama, the ridiculously good-looking cast, and the top 40 soundtrack. I’m so freaking predictable. But I have to admit, what first drew me to the show was its star, Blake Lively, who plays Serena. She played Bridget in The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants, and she’s awesome. I totally want to look like her. Or her SoTP co-star and CW vet (Gilmore Girls, what), Alexis Bledel. I was not disappointed in her performance in the pilot. An unforeseen plus was Penn Badgley’s adorable “good guy” character, Dan; the intelligent, confident-yet-self-deprecating type who doesn’t even realize he’s good looking.
All that to say, after being seduced by images of a glamorous, Manhattan socialite lifestyle; I’m about to embark on a minimalist, Australian missionary adventure. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Apparently, a lot of people have been finding my blog lately by typing “Legolas” into the Google Image search engine. The picture I used for 
We had a day off today and I went to the cinema here in Berlin with Anne-Mai. (Fun fact: They sell wine and beer at the concession stand!) I really wanted to see Valkyrie, cause how cool would that be to see in Berlin? I could almost justify spending money on it, then, because it’s more of a cultural experience and not just a movie. Right?
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