My Sophie's Choice

On Wednesday afternoon, I took a surprisingly interesting walk. Lately, I've been taking walks either down State St. or Dearborn towards the canal, despite freezing cold that defies imagination, to clear my head. On this particular afternoon, I was on State, about three or four blocks from my apartment and I was stopped by a representative from Environment Illinois. I hadn't really been paying attention, I had my iPod on - probably listening to some embarrassing '80s tripe as I tend to do while walking - and stopped without thinking. When she told me which organization she was from, we had a nice, long talk about their goals and strategies. She was really and truly surprised that I didn't walk away, and moreso that I was willing to have a serious and engaging conversation about the issues - and that I was comparatively well-educated on them. And I couldn't help but think how sad it was that she had to be surprised about something like this. It says some terrible things about our nation.

In any case, the problem with this is that they want money. Not that I fault them for this - money really is the only thing that actually gets things done - but if you're haunting streets in the South Loop of Chicago hoping for financial supporters, you're in the wrong place. You're only going to hit college student after college student and we are dirt poor. It bummed me out quite a bit, because I wanted so badly to help, but I just can't afford $15 a month. I can't say that it's, to quote the old cliche, hard to find good help these days, but rather hard to help period these days.

After our somewhat lengthy encounter, I ran into Kristen Wiig from Saturday Night Live. So. It was a helluva walk. Anyhow, I got back to my apartment about an hour later and I started to feel guilty. Granted, I have had a lot on my mind this week - far more than I'm used to ever having - but the guilt was still there. I thought, "Well, I can spend money I don't have on a seemingly bottomless pit of theatre tickets but I can't afford $15 a month for the environment? Really, Self?"

So then I started to wonder: what's more important? My rabid, almost chemical need to see every single play that comes through Chicago, or...saving the planet? An age-old question, I'm sure. The answer should be pretty clear and, I guess, it is. I'm just ignoring it.

...In other news, I'm seeing Our Town at Lookingglass on Friday! Actually, I'm ushering for it, which in some ways is even better. You don't get the relaxing, recreational theatre experience, but you get to be a part of it, and see the show for free! And usually all of the volunteer ushers at Lookingglass are upwards of sixty and those kids are the best. I'm rambling now. Ta.

Meaningless ramblings

I can't sleep. Normally this would be of little consequence to me, but I have therapy early in the morning. And I have a headache plaguing me somethin' fierce. So what do I do? Blogville, USA.

I haven't been posting as frequently as I used to. This may be either due to the fact that I have nothing intelligent to say, or the fact that I'm busy. But who am I kidding? I'm a college student. I'm not busy. I sit on my computer all day when I'm not in class and not "partying." Don't ever let a college kid tell you that they're busy. Because it's a lie. Nine times out of ten they're spending the majority of their day on Facebook and/or lounging in their apartment watching Comedy Central or something equally mindless.

In other news, my roommate and I went to Second City on Tuesday night. I hadn't been since September, and the show was even funnier than the last one I saw. Taylor and I were crammed together at a table with two guys in their late '20s, who bought us drinks (Second City makes a mean strawberry daquiri, by the way), and we all managed an intelligent conversation about Saturday Night Live vs. SCTV. As much as I love SNL, I'll take Catherine O'Hara and Andrea Martin over anyone from SNL any day. I wish there had been a sketch show comprised entirely of Catherine O'Hara, Andrea Martin, Gilda Radner, Jane Curtin, and Martin Short, just for kicks.

Also, we got lost and ended up taking a $3 cab ride because the theatre was literally two blocks from where we finally broke down and hailed a cab. Classy, right?

Apropo of nothing, I want to talk about Big Love. I don't know if any of you watch it, but this season has just been blowing me away. The show is finally exploring so many of the issues that have needed to be address in the past, and bringing so many fascinating emotional conflicts into the fray. It's better than it's ever been. It's always been brilliant, but I really cannot get over how flawless it's been lately. If you don't watch it, consider this my recommendation.

Okay, that's it for me. I'll save my Los Angeles longings for next time. That's a loaded topic.

I want your soul.

It's true, I have been lazy of late. I had a real bummer of a week, for no real reason. I think I just had a case of the "mean reds," as Holly Golightly would say. But I think I'm done wallowing now. I'm ready to come out of my Bat Cave, and I wish that was a metaphor. But I really have a Bat Cave in my room. Instead of having a bed underneath my bunk bed, I have a dresser topped with endless dvds and a pink chair...and Batman sheets draped over the back. Yep. Bat Cave. That was obviously something you needed to know about me.

Anyway. Tuesday night, I went to go see The Seafarer at Steppenwolf. Finally. I went by myself, which is something I've never done, and it was surprisingly nice. I am ashamed to admit that I hadn't gotten over to Steppenwolf since August, so it was nice and nostalgic. I ate at the same restaurant down the block I ate at that, and passed the spot where I saw Kathy Baker after the show back in August, at which time it was all I could do not to "JILL BROCK!" her. And the people who work at Steppenwolf are supremely sweet. I had some enlightened conversations with those working the box office and some ushers. I just adore theatre people, and the whole atmosphere really. There's no better feeling in the world.

The show itself was phenomenal, and I had surprisingly perfect seats considering I got student rush tickets. But that's the nice thing about Steppenwolf's downstairs theatre - there really isn't a bad seat in the house. John Mahoney, from Frasier, was in the show, to the sheer delight of my Frasier-worshipping friends, Haynes. He was fantastic, as was everyone in it, especially the actor who played Mr. Lockhart, who I immediately recognized as Ben's lawyer from LOST, which may or may not be to my credit.

The first act is admittedly slow, and has you wondering where this is all going because it seems rather aimless. But by the end of the first act, I was literally on the edge of my seat and when the theatre goes black it's a bit of a shock to the system. The second act is brilliant and intense and staggering. I believe there were several instances when I forgot to breathe. I highly recommend it.

We're watching It Happened One Night in class tonight. Oh, Clark Gable and Claudette Colbert, how I adore you both.

Slice of life

Typically, I don't post about "real life" other than the casual throwaway line, but today it's necessary.

I'm sure Chicago isn't the only place around that experienced a serious rise in temperature this weekend. But Chicago being what it is, it took the city by storm. We're used to the kind of freezing wind that rips the flesh off your face. And today, we didn't even need our winter coats. People came out of the woodwork. Children roamed the street! Do you know how long it's been since we've seen children?

My roommate Taylor and I walked a total of four miles this afternoon, down the Magnificent Mile to the Water Tower and back. Granted, whatever weight was lost with the exercise was regained thanks to Chipotle, but it still felt fantastic. Completely exhilarating. And as we crossed the canal, this sight awaited us and I just had to take a picture:



But somehow, despite this good weather, we still ended up at the movies. (Story of my life.) Revolutionary Road, finally. Fantastic film, if incredibly depressing. It took some time for it to truly hit me, but once it did, I was knocked out and dragged off. The more I thought about it, the more I realized I was grateful. I mean, these two characters in the film were so phenomenally and profoundly unhappy that it makes you grateful for even the tiniest bit of happiness.

The day ended as all days ought to - watching Barbra Streisand. My friends Kate and Brooklyn demanded my copy of The Mirror Has Two Faces, so we watched that, followed by Streisand's "Timeless" concert on dvd.

Really, it was a perfect day. Too bad now I have a mountain of work to complete for my Monday morning Fiction Writing class. Joy.

Sad.

I don't know if anyone out there is following the Dunaway/Duff Feud of '09, but it's getting ugly.

Check this out.

I'm quite thoroughly baffled by the fact that Hilary Duff thinks it's okay to talk about a screen legend that way.

I'll find something more eloquent to say soon.

He adored Manhattan

I admit to being a devoted Woody Allen fan. I could not possibly care less about what he does in his personal life, his films are incomparable. The good ones anyway.

Here, Paste magazine has listed its opinion of Allen's top ten. The article goes into a deeper explanation, but here are the listed ten:

10) Sweet and Lowdown
9) Match Point
8) Love and Death
7) Vicky Cristina Barcelona
6) Bullets over Broadway
5) Crimes and Misdemeanors
4) The Purple Rose of Cairo
3) Annie Hall
2) Hannah and Her Sisters
1) Manhattan

Before I go into my thoughts on the list above, I should preface this by noting that I have a very clear bias for his films with Diane Keaton, and against his films with Mia Farrow. I always have. Which is why I would immediately strike The Purple Rose of Cairo from the list, and in its place insert Play it Again, Sam.

That said, I'm extremely pleased to see Manhattan at number one, a place which is typically occupied by one of the two that precede it. It had always been one of my favorites, but last semester in my Aesthetics of Cinema class, I had to dissect it (specifically the cinematography) for a ten-page paper and I discovered that it really and truly has to be his best film. It's exquisite. And I would admittedly place Annie Hall ahead of Hannah and Her Sisters, though I suppose it doesn't really matter any.

I don't know if any of you are Woody Allen fans or would have an opinion, but I'd love to hear it.