Screen tests

"For some reason, awful lot of actors come from these kind of peripatetic backgrounds. You'll always find that they've had these itinerant childhoods. And the only thing I can think of, is that it just teaches you that behavior is not concrete. I think a lot of people think that behavior is character. I act this way; therefore I am this way. And one of the things that you learn moving around a lot is that behavior is mutable. And that's something that actors know inherently, that behavior means different things, but that you change it, depending on where you are, who you are, what you want to accomplish."

I love these actor screen tests from the New York Times. I don't know why I find them so fascinating, but some of them I've watched over and over again. My favorites are Penelope Cruz, Javier Bardem, Marion Cotillard, Carey Mulligan, and Seth Rogen.

Peter Sarsgaard's is incredible - especially his description of his character in An Education.

"He kind of becomes a docent for the world for this sixteen-year-old girl. And it's not really about sex; it's about - when you first show someone a butterfly - they've never seen one - you re-experience the butterfly for the first time again."

Bay Area concert wishlist

9/17 - Ratatat @ The Warfield

9/22 - Local Natives @ The Fillmore

9/24 - Band of Horses @ Greek Theater

9/25 - Dirty Projectors @ The Fillmore

9/27 - Passion Pit @ Fox Theater

10/2 - Arcade Fire @ Greek Theater

10/16-17 - Treasure Island Music Festival

10/19 - Jonsi @ Fox Theater (this one I am going to for sure with Jane)

10/26 - Sufjan Stevens @ The Paramout

11/2 - Bloody Beetroots @ The Mezzanine

WHAT THE HELL. The number of amazing shows in the next few months is staggering, and, pathetically, stressing me out because I know I can't see them all given time/budget/buddy constraints, especially since my tried and true concert companions are either saving the world in Michigan or living it up in Glasgow. Let me know if you are interested in any of these, because I sure as hell would love to go to as many as possible.

Some of my favorite concert memories in the last four years:

On the way to Bimbo's to see Voxtrot. It was sophomore year, December - Christmas decorations everywhere. We took pictures with towering Gap ads on Powell of Will Arnett and Amy Poehler wrapped in striped scarves. I miss those days when Union Square was a treat and San Francisco was still so exotic.

God I love this man so much. RAMEEEESH. Ignore the fact that he looks sweaty and disgusting. Voxtrot is from Austin +1. They make amazing music +1. Ramesh was so nice! +5000.

Spring of the same year, Rilo Kiley with Tiff and Katharine. We were little and Asian so everyone let us stand in front of them, and we got right up against the stage. Jenny Lewis is perfect and played all my favorite songs.

SIGUR ROS. Best. show. of. my. life. Jonsi's voice sounds like angels and rainbows and silver unicorns. The Greek was surprisingly packed, and my favorite moment happened when they were playing a particularly eerie song right before the encore. It was the end of the night, everyone was moved by the music (and yes, the weed), the band was silhouetted against the reddest lights, and suddenly it started to rain. Inexplicably, every single person in the audience raised their arms to the sky at the same time. If you've ever heard Sigur Ros you'll understand when I say I felt like I was part of a cult. A cult of awesome. I've been chasing that feeling in every show I've been to since.

Self-diagnosis

Today, shoulders hunched against the chilly San Francisco wind, I looked down at my feet while waiting to cross the street at Mission to my office building waiting on the other side. I was surprised to see that all that melanin acquired in Greece and Turkey has faded to a slight tint, barely noticeable against the lighter stripes imprinted by the shelter of my flip flops.

--

I was inserting a footnote in Excel about the capital expenditures of a hospital. Except, instead of obeying my head and typing hospital, my fingers found their way around the keyboard and out came

H-O-S-T-E-L.

It seems Wanderlust is a chronic condition, and I've got no interest in a cure.

In transit

Things thought on my way back to SF from NYC:

It's odd that you can share a 4-hour conversation and an armrest with someone on an airplane and never learn their name. And what are you supposed to say to him or her while disembarking? I was transferring in Denver and he was home. "Welcome home" seems odd; it isn't my home, after all.

The Denver airport is miserable. I once had a terrible standby experience here and was in the airport for 12 hours. It's just as bad as I remember - the terminal is literally one long strip that takes half an hour just to get through.

Few things make me happier than a jovial BART conductor. At 12:30 PM after 12 hours in transit (Subway + bus + plane + plane + BART), a "Goodnight, and thank you for riding BART" can somehow make my day.

The Bearwalk van is arguably my favorite thing about Berkeley.