RACSO is OSCAR Spelled Backwards

Last night was the 2nd annual Oscar party at Brian's place! (Brian has surround sound speakers, a Nintendo Wii, Super NES, hoards of food provided by his [Jewish] mother , and a wide screen TV with digital cable - in other words, opposite of my apartment. Hence, his domain is almost always the designated party location.)

Even though I lost the Oscar pool, we all had a great time getting all Mystery Science Theater on that shit. While my attitude towards the Oscars certainly has changed, as I've explained before, there were still many laughs to be had.

Here's a list of things you may have missed during the Oscars in between chip-dips:

• George Clooney could often be seen staring down Alec Baldwin with the evil eye, making odd faces for the annoying camera that seemed to show or humorously bobbing his head to the epic orchestral music. Extra points for opting towards a less serious and more goofball Oscar attitude.

• Anyone notice Samuel L. Jackson's little eye roll after Mo'nique's speech? Yeah, he knows. Girl has attitude. Even Sam Jack's like, "Damn woman."

• Music by Prudence producer pulls a Kanye. Here's why.

• I was never really a horror movie fan, but after being Ryan's main squeeze (and he is the horror master), I should be knowledgeable about these things at least by association. So, yeah that horror reel was pretty bad. If it can't make me flinch it must have failed.

• Is it just me, or does T-Bone Burnett look EXACTLY like James Cameron, circa 10 years ago? We were all convinced he was switching identities back and forth between commercial breaks to covet the Oscar. Why else would he be wearing sunglasses...eh? eh?

• Gaborney Sibide's mom joins her in the audience. This is blowing my mind, considering I pass by her every day in the subway station as she sings to Michael Jackson's greatest hits!

• There is a freakish looking man sitting behind Helen Mirren. In Ryan's words, "it looks like Jerry O'Connell's face exploded."

• I honestly don't understand how you can dance to orchestral soundtrack music. Nor do I understand how break-dancing and the robot are justifiable in this instance. I'd rather sit through Randy Newman singing two songs then watch this crap. Suddenly, we all collectively begin to imagine how Randy Newman would sing a narrative to the dancing action, sort of like this.

For a slightly more mature interpretation of Oscar night, visit my film blog.

A Swell, Swingin' Time

June 5th was a day for traveling back in time, to the glory days of the Roaring Twenties. Ryan and a few friends joined me on a ferry trip across NY Harbour to Governor's Island, an old coast guard community that had since been abandoned.

It's back with lots of activities though, and tours through its many historical landmarks. I was amazed at how beautiful the island was; there were colonial homes surrounded by plush green grass. Towering trees that created an ethereal canopy of dappled rays of sun, and a path along the coast overlooking the NY skyline and Lady Liberty herself.


In one of the canopied clearings, there was a great lawn where the old timey "Dreamland Band" played merry tunes, which drifted eerily out of speakers and a microphone straight from the '20s, like the voice of a ghostly folly. It was so surreal, entering this grassy, heavenly-lit utopia of women in swaying dresses, fine lace and Japanese parasols, swinging happily with their dapper gentleman, who looked stately in their summer suits and hats.

I was of course, dressed for the occasion, as it seems both my look and personality are strangely akin to the flappers of the '20s. Perhaps I am stuck in the wrong era (or is it evidence of a past life?) Nevertheless, I couldn't pass up the opportunity to embody the swell, modern-minded gal of our country's earliest history. I draped myself in grandma's pearls, a frilly smock, and cloche hat, and hit the dance floor with Agathe.

Later, Ryan and I attempted the waltz (which I must say, wasn't half bad!) I'll admit rather romantically that this was almost fairytale in nature, swaying with my beau to the tune of a swooning clarinet, apart from the time we stepped on eachother's feet and snickered to ourselved in olde "News on the March" announcer voices.

Those who weren't dancing as if they were simply plucked from the era itself, were content to lounge on blankets in the grass, picking on picnic food and chattering amongst one another. It was like a real, moving exhibit of a Seurat painting.

A white tent sold summer cocktails of St. Germains and champagne, the suspendered bartenders using long, slender carafes to carefully mix the bubbling beverages. In turn, each patron was given a recipe card with scandalous 1920's risque photograph of a curvacious flapper in her under linens, either coquettishly posing or armed with a horse whip. Oh, how scandalous!

Unfortunately, we didn't have much time to explore, but what little I saw has enticed me to visit again very soon!

Curious Events @ "Limits of Control"

Yesterday, Ryan and I, two aspiring filmmakers with only a dream in their pockets (the rest was just lint and old buttons) had a chance glimpse into the crazy, exciting world of Jim Jarmusch, and the people around him. Here are just some of the highlights from that night (more about the premier on my film blog):

Jim Jarmusch....

• Walking down Houston with an entourage of people, including Ryan and I.

Hanging out with Bill Murray....

• Who decided to wear a red visor and criss-cross striped pajama pants to the swanky Shang after-party.....apparently the hair part of the visor...?
  
• He asks if Ryan and I are friends. We say we are dating. He looks at him, then at me. Mr. Murray, as he leans in: "You must be an animal!"
• 
• Some Tribeca girl who doesn't have a clue switches on her itty-bitty recorder and starts asking great questions like ,"What did it feel like to wear a tupee? Have you ever worn one before? Why was there an American flag pin on your suit?" He patronizes, but kindly, in his Murray way. At one point, he pretends to smack her in the ass, good-naturedly.
• I say "So Jim says you didn't improvise the scene in the movie at all." He says, "Improvising is really just when you forget your lines."
• 
  
• Ryan talks to Bill about his new zombie movie. He also mentions that this party is "atypical...I don't even know what street I'm on right now."

Tilda Swinton.....

• Hugs Bill Murray. They chat. We stand in awe.
  

Gael Garcia Bernal....

• Yes, he is still just as good looking in person.
• He and his girlfriend are probably the cutest couple ever.
  

Paz de la Huerta.....

• Meows at Jim Jarmusch to get his attention when I finally get to talk to him. Strangely cute.
  

Amos Poe.......

• "I knew [Paz] before she had an ass!"
• "You're a Jewish Italian," among other Jew-ish jokes about me.

Drinks.....

• Champagne (in a mini bottle!)
• Vodka and Coke
• Another Vodka and Coke
• Vodka and Red Bull (BLEHH, but it didn't matter at that point)

Food.....

• Curry Puff (what was in that shit?)
• Jerk Chicken
• Artichoke Salad
• Fried Rice
• Homeade Cole Slaw
• Shrimp Puff (wanted more! where shrimp puff man go?)
• Mini Cookies and Muffins!
  

Sadly, I didn't want to be "THAT GIRL" who took photos all night, so I just soaked it in with my mind. I think it's gonna be hard to forget this one though.

Pillow Fight NYC 2009 (et al..)

We came. We saw. We conquered. [With pillows.]

(Time Out NY Video Still)

Followed by a weekend of.....

Earth Day Party @ Surah and Nora's Apartment (flowers and vodka, oh my!)

Dancing @ Pianos bar

Checking out the Bob Ross party --> LAME (we took some photo booth pictures, in which all of them featured Phil's face and our cut off heads)


Cupcakes and Conversation at Cake Shop

Thee Oh-Sees Concert (which was really awesome, except for that fucking annoyingly grating saxophone, which felt as if you were stuck amidst the loud honking of a traffic mob for an exceedingly long, breathless time.)

Agathe's Last Day in NYC! (we sat outside of Cafe Dante like the Europeans, sipping espresso and reflecting on good times.)