Oh, and Happy Chinese New Year.
Mr. Very Nice Rock Star is a Rat.
*Mandarin: "Congratulations and be prosperous, now give me a red envelope"**.
**In China, red envelopes with cash money inside are given at the New Year as symbolic wishes for prosperity to the recipient. Personally, I have always felt that giving me money was a very lucky thing to do. Now give me a red envelope.
2 comments:
I stumbled here from Daisy's blog. I like the way Daisy thinks. I can never figure out why he's so absorbed with the bourgeois but hey, so was Oscar Wilde. I'll try to get an early ticket at the door or pickpocket some ACT patron.
I loved Secret - it made so much crazy subconscious sense. I remember that white snake like a lonely billboard in Wyoming that says, "where the hell do you think you're going?" In a couple miles you wonder if you ever read it or if you made it up b/c the sky and your thoughts were just going on forever. You think no one else saw it and then you meet someone that did and you feel like hugging them. Thanks for reminding me how great it was. I wish I could send you a fruit basket.
It's interesting that you left your comment under the Year of the Rat post.
Well, the bourgeois have always been an easy target. It's tempting to blame everything on them, after all, and usually pretty fun. The bourgeois represent The Man who is keeping broke-ass artists like you and I marginally in ramen, according to Daisey. This is a gross oversimplification, of course, but you get my drift. He's not wrong about what he's saying, though, he's just saying it to a room full of theater artists instead of a room full of arts administrators.
Anyway, I love to kick the bourgeois when they're down -- which is all the time, according to me -- but I really shouldn't. I'm dating an evil-condo-owning yuppie who would rather vote Ron Paul than Democrat, although he is very socially liberal and treats me like gold and shreds on the guitar and my parents and in-laws are well above the middle-class line. I don't count my sister, though, since though she's married to a (very nice, Seattle-geeky) yuppie, she's a mentally ill socialist stay-at-home-mom with three degrees in hard science and another in the history of science who caucused for Dean and buys me groceries now that I am marginally functional.
Okay, enough with the pre-Sunday-AM-coffee run-ons. Thanks a lot for the mental fruit basket! Balagan has a Zimmerman piece scheduled for the end of spring after Big Love and directed by a friend of hers. Despite my personal issues, I do still want to work with my friends there (just don't want to be the boss no mo') and it probably will be good.
Hey, hope to hear from you again. Stay for a cuppa and I'll let you know when my next show goes up.
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