David Sedaris!

Last night I had the pleasure of attending a reading by David Sedaris, one of my favorite living authors. I’ve seen him read live before, and I will take every opportunity I ever have of seeing him read live again. Before the show, he walked right past me in the lobby and it was all I could do to stop myself from throwing my arms around him and telling him that I wanted to wrap him up and put him in my pocket. Better to be escorted out by security after the reading, I thought.

If you’re not familiar with his work, go now, run, and download any and all episodes of This American Life that he’s contributed to. Then go and get some of his audiobooks. Normally, I would suggest the print version, but there’s nothing quite like listening to David Sedaris read his own work (see also: David Rakoff, Tina Fey, and Mindy Kaling). His cadence and delivery will have you in tears of laughter, just as I was last night.

This is a good one, too. His live recordings are the best.

I managed to snag a front row ticket and was seated about ten feet away, which was awesome. Mr. Sedaris read some essays from his upcoming book, Let’s Explore Diabetes with Owls, the title of which is taken from a tale of an excruciating conversation in Greek by the author, who speaks very poor Greek. He also read a few of his diary entries. I love when he does this. He regaled us with the story of telling a Willie Nelson joke to a ticketing agent at the airport and it had me laughing so hard, I started to feel dizzy. I thought  "Oh, if I pass out and fall out of my chair, that will be so embarrassing."

On every book tour, David Sedaris recommends a book to the audience. This time he told us to read The Bill From My Father, by Bernard Cooper (and also everything else by Bernard Cooper). He said from a writing standpoint this book is especially interesting because it’s filled with lots of page-and-a-half essays. David loves this because a 1½-page essay is far more difficult to write than a ten-page essay, and every word in the book is so carefully chosen, but not in a way that makes it precious. He then declared that he will never write anything as fine as Bernard Cooper’s work, which is about the greatest compliment I can imagine receiving from David Sedaris. I immediately put all of Cooper’s works on my reading list.

And then I drove home, chuckling about Willie Nelson all the way.

The awkward moment when you finally understand the Spice Girls naming conventions.

This is here for the cuteness factor.

So, I was reading this article on how Americans are apparently adopting Bristishisms wholesale. (For the record, I don’t buy it. I've never heard an American say “Bob’s your uncle” or “barmy” unless he was imitating a British person. It’s gonna take a lot more than a love of Downton Abbey for Cockney rhyming slang to gain a foothold here.) Anyway, that article linked to another article which mentioned that the term “ginger,” meaning “redhead,” was popularized by the delight that is Ron Weasley, although “singer Geri Halliwell, aka Ginger Spice, also played her part in making the term better known.”

And then I stopped cold.

 Wait. They called her Ginger Spice because she had red hair? This was a revelation to me. I knew Brits called redheads “ginger” but I never connected that to Ginger Spice.

So, why had I previously thought she was called Ginger? Yes, that's right. Because ginger is a spice, obviously. In fact, I thought she was the only one of the five who was logically named. "They’re called 'The Spice Girls,' yet only one is actually named for a spice. Why are they calling her 'Sporty'? Why aren't they calling her, like, “Cinnamon” or something?"

Not my best day.

Through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered...

Well, I am elated. I just got back from a midnight showing of the ultimate film about growing up and leaving childish things behind, but still hanging on to your dreams, about using brains and logic to make your own way, trusting what’s inside yourself while learning to rely on true friends, and being strong and smart and not letting your head be turned by pretty, shiny things, and all to an awesome David Bowie soundtrack. Oh yes, that’s right: Labyrinth.

Sir Didymus and Ambrocious are still my favorite.

James and Kristen, do you remember when I visited you for a week in Philly in the late 80s and I made myself odious to you by forcing you to watch that movie every single day? That must be why I was able to sit in the theater and say every line along with the actors.

The theater was packed with my kind of people, all saying the lines (there is no movie theater shushing in situations like these) and belting out the words to “Dance Magic Dance” right along with the goblin king. I was sitting in front of a couple in full Jareth and Sarah costume and, appropriately, he was wearing more eyeliner than she. 

My people.

He moves the stars for no one.

Ballet!

Last night I attended a performance of Cinderella at the Kennedy Center. It was performed by the Mariinsky Ballet of St. Petersburg and it was magnificent.

The ballerina who danced Cinderella was exquisite. Floating on air and moving like liquid. She even made Cinderella's rags costume look good. The man who danced the prince is, I think, a big deal in the ballet world. They were both just marvelous.

I had a front row seat, overlooking the full orchestra, and it was all awesome. I snapped this rather blurry photo just to show my friend J, who loves sitting where you can see the orchestra. It was soon after that that they made the announcement reminding us that all photography was forbidden. Oops.

J texted back that he envied me the orchestra, but not the ballet.

Alas, the rules did not stop me from snapping a pic of this fellow during the first intermission. I couldn't stop myself. I just loved the tufty hair sticking out from under the great big horn and I knew I'd regret leaving this photo behind. Luckily taking a photo with an iPhone of someone ten feet below you looks an awful lot like sending a text message.

Also, while I was in line in the Ladies’ Room, a woman came in and asked excitedly, "Are you guys going to the ballet? I had a guy ask me if I was going to the ballet and he wasn't gay!"

 Jackpot.

Zombie eyes and bald opera singers

So, this weekend I decided to take a theatrical make-up class at The Kennedy Center. It just sounded like too much fun to pass up. The "Diva It Up" class promised to show me how to put on my opera face and create some Halloween looks. How could I resist?

The KC is a very imposing building. I felt under-dressed as soon as I arrived. (I also felt this way walking down Savile Row in London. One must simply hold one's head high and get on with things.) There are red carpets and valet guys everywhere.

The students in the class ran the gamut from professional make-up artists to people like me who just wanted to have fun. One woman brought her 8 year-old nieces.

Perhaps the coolest part of the course was that it was located in the opera house dressing rooms. There were rows and rows of make-up tables with vanity lamps, where all the ballerinas get ready for their performances.

Our teacher, Leslie, has been a professional make-up artist for more than two decades. (Her own make-up was flawless, so that was a good sign.) She works at the Kennedy Center, making up the performers for ballet, opera, and theater.

Here Leslie is teaching us how the ballerinas use a white base for their make-up, how to create a dramatic eye look, and how to make your brows more prominent for a stage performance. Other things she taught us:

• People on stage need lots and lots of fake eyelashes.
• Warm tones like pinks and peaches look best under stage lights.
• If you're putting eye make-up on another person, tell them exactly what you're doing with each step. No one wants any surprises near their eyes.
• Keep your eyes open when applying false lashes so you don't glue your eyes shut. (Good tip.)
• Any eye shadow can be used as a liner - just add a bit of water and use an eyeliner brush.
• Super Matte Anti-shine is the best product in the world. It will mattify even the shiniest bald head. (Which was why, Leslie told us, her tube was nearly empty.)
• Brides wishing to avoid a shiny face would do well to keep a velour pouf of powder tucked into their bras in order to have easy access to some mattifying powder.

Leslie also taught us how to make wounds with paint-on latex and fake blood.

Here is the beginnings of my little pot of congealed blood. Vaseline is the base, then you add some bright red, and soften it up with some blue...

...which allows you to create this disgusting and totally awesome look. Fresh walkers here!

Leslie also gave us tips on how to use liquid latex to create the illusion of wrinkles under the eyes. At this point, two older ladies in the class yelled out, "That is information we do NOT need!"

My goal was to create a zombie look. Here I started with a freshly-washed face.

Then I added a nice base for theatrical eye make-up, or, "the deranged ballerina" look. Leslie had all these wonderful French beauty products for us to try. This white make-up felt really nice and light on my face. I could totally be a mime with this stuff.

And here are my zombie eyes. I was going to start on sunken cheeks next, but they had to kick us out so the opera singers could come and get their make-up on. (sigh) Priorities...

I also learned how to make bruises (but I forgot to take photos) and lots of tips for applying mascara and false eyelashes (which I will probably never use.) Tomorrow night I will get to see some of Leslie's handiwork from the audience when I go to the ballet. Can't wait.

This class was so much fun!

To quote Miss Clairee, "You were brought up right."

So, I was in PA last weekend, which means spending lots of time cuddled up with Julia while she watches the Lord of the Rings movies on my iPad.

This never happened.

We get to the infuriating part where Faramir tries to take the ring from Frodo, and the following conversation occurs:


Ali: It's important that you understand something about this.

Julia: I know, I know. Mommy told me. This part doesn't happen in the book.


Well done, Jen. Well done.

The hilarious "head in a trash can" photo you didn't know you wanted.

So, today's perusal of foreign newspapers has yielded solid gold. And, I just realized that my description in the post title sounds a bit macabre, but fear not! The head is indeed attached to a body. A man in Aberdeen, Scotland (currently my favorite man in all of Scotland) got himself wedged into a trash can, or "rubbish bin" if you speak British.

Heaven bless whomever decided to memorialize this on film:

Head in a rubbish bin.

The best part of this photo is the person in the lower right corner, grasping his friend on the shoulder and pointing with great animation. That person is a kindred spirit to me.

I truly hope those are the kindest, most understanding firemen in Scotland. Happy Monday, everyone.