I am going to continue with the blog – the lack of updates has less to do with a desire to stop writing, but a promotion at work! Which has left me with little to no time to do anything else. Mind you, that is no complaint at all, but up until the past two weeks, I am not entirely sure I understood the full meaning of the word busy.
I saw the film Julie and Julia last night – I’d read the book year or so ago and hated it. Julie Powell is without a smidgen of doubt the most unlikable woman; no I’ll say it, the most unlikable bitch in the literary world. Julie and Julia, the book, is an obnoxious look into the psychology of one woman’s self-pitying hatred. Powell is incapable of being grateful for her truly amazing husband, and cannot understand why after taking no initiative whatsoever, her acting career and life have never “taken off.” Her poorly written book and blog achieved success due largely to the context of the time in which she was writing. Blogs were new and unique in 2002 – it was much easier to achieve success in that time than now.
Yes, there is something about me that is jealous towards her success. I mean, what did she do that is any different than what I do at this very moment in time? And while I am by no means a “Pollyanna,” I did not know human beings could be so depressed and self-pitying until I read her book.
Julie and Julia is not worth reading, but the film is worth taking a glance at. The Julia Child portions are quite satisfying, thanks to another captivating and nuanced performance by Meryl Streep. And who doesn’t think that Julia Child was a fascinating woman worthy of a movie?
Oh, and, despite playing a despicable woman, Amy Adams is adorable, lovely, enchanting and talented…as always.
The question is when “Made in India” is finally purchased by Focus Features, which celebrity will have the gratifying challenge of taking on me?!?!? Share your casting suggestions, please!
Until next time, om, chanti, chanti, chanti, namaste.
Saturday, August 22, 2009
Thursday, August 6, 2009
KISS: Keep It Simple, Stupid
I am not entirely sure anyone is reading my blog, so I am considering no longer writing it. Of course, the practice of writing is good for me, so in some sense, it should not matter whether people are reading. Hmmmm…if you do the read, let me know and I’ll continue. If not, I may stop.
Tuesday night’s yoga class was themed around the concept of simplification. My teacher and her husband have been living in New York City for many years now, and have initiated discussions about leaving the city. My teacher said she’s been having difficulty wrapping herself around the idea of leaving Manhattan. Her husband’s sage wisdom…
“Baby, it’s all about simplification.”
His words provided the foundation for both the class that night, and for me. The new mantra is: Simplify!
The question is how? This is my current project – what in life can I eliminate in order to simplify with the intention of finding peace?
I do not really know the answer, but I have cancelled my netflix account, plan to eliminate facebook from my life and, as previously mentioned, may no longer be a contributing writer to Made in India.
In appreciating the simpler things in life, we can eliminate the unnecessary stresses and find greater purpose and meaning. I am going to try it, and would love for you to join in my the journey as well!
Om, chanti, chanti, chanti, namaste.
Tuesday night’s yoga class was themed around the concept of simplification. My teacher and her husband have been living in New York City for many years now, and have initiated discussions about leaving the city. My teacher said she’s been having difficulty wrapping herself around the idea of leaving Manhattan. Her husband’s sage wisdom…
“Baby, it’s all about simplification.”
His words provided the foundation for both the class that night, and for me. The new mantra is: Simplify!
The question is how? This is my current project – what in life can I eliminate in order to simplify with the intention of finding peace?
I do not really know the answer, but I have cancelled my netflix account, plan to eliminate facebook from my life and, as previously mentioned, may no longer be a contributing writer to Made in India.
In appreciating the simpler things in life, we can eliminate the unnecessary stresses and find greater purpose and meaning. I am going to try it, and would love for you to join in my the journey as well!
Om, chanti, chanti, chanti, namaste.
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Monday, July 27, 2009
Great Expections & Memory Lane...
I recently spent a weekend in Maine, and essentially did nothing for two whole days…sat out in the sun, reading at a sidewalk coffee shop; a cherished pastime for me.
Many of you know that my family moved from one small town in Maine to another when I was in high school. The two towns are next to each other and share the same high school, so the move was not terribly life altering.
However, having sent a good 15 years in Eliot, Maine, following the move, I have had very little opportunity to go there, despite passing through on my way to South Berwick.
It was during a conversation with my family over birthday dinner that I was reminded of all the places and things in Eliot I used to go to and partake of in my childhood: Dead Duck End, t-ball, etc…
During my two days of nothingness, I took the opportunity to take a drive through Eliot and revisit all the places of my youth. It is said so often that it has become a cliché, “you can never go back.”
The reality is there is both true and falsity in the saying. Driving and walking by the houses and places of my youth, I find myself transported to a different time of my life. Memories and feelings I have long since forgotten were awakened: Halloween parties, the “chair” story, tree tag, playing Jurassic Park, etc… It was bizarre. I had the happiest of childhoods, truly. And I could not help but wish I were living back in those simpler times.
I have always had wild ambitions – I remember taking a French class in elementary school after school, it must have been second- or third-grade, dreaming of the day I would go visit or perhaps even live in Paris. I recall watching “The Vicar of Dibley” knowing full well I would at some point live in London.
Many of the dreams and secrets I harbored in my youth have, in fact, come true. What is so strange is the visions I had in my head differ so much with the realities of life. My time in London was decidedly not what I had been daydreaming about in high school. I know this seems a base and silly observation, but what I am having trouble reconciling my London daydreams with my actual experiences.
I cannot decide if it is sad that I did not live in small thatched cottage drinking tea with fiancée Kate Beckinsale, or fabulous that I did live in Posh West London, became addicted to Strongbow and made out with a Jake Gyllenhaal lookalike.
Memory lane is a strange and wondrous place.
I am in the midst of re-reading Great Expectations – a truly brilliant, brilliant, brilliant piece of literature. I see so many echos of myself in the protagonist Pip. Pip comes from the humblest background, is raised by his brother-in-law, a black smith, and is content with his future as apprentice to the black smith until he starts visiting Miss Havisham and Estella.
Once he enters into the world of the aristocracy, his dreams and ambitions grow. He desperately wants to become a gentleman, accumulate wealth and intelligence to win over the haughty Estella.
I cannot help but remember a time when my dreams were relatively simple. Become the President of Strawbery Banke…have a darling 18-century home in Portsmouth…that has since been replaced with dreams of Oscar gold, a house in The Hamptons and being hounded by the Paparazzi.
And I also cannot help but wish, at times, that I still held tight to those simple dreams, sincerely and wholeheartedly – I think I would feel so much more fulfilled and content. We, with stars in our eyes, set ourselves up for a great deal of disappointment.
Well, I have given myself till 34 for the Oscar, so there is a bit more time for me. I need not declare myself a failure yet. These memories have made me long for a REUNION of sorts – I haven’t seen friends from high in AGEEEESS and would love to get together with you all in the near future. Soooo…FACEBOOK ME, and let’s get together.
Till next time, om, chanti, chanti, chanti, namaste.
Many of you know that my family moved from one small town in Maine to another when I was in high school. The two towns are next to each other and share the same high school, so the move was not terribly life altering.
However, having sent a good 15 years in Eliot, Maine, following the move, I have had very little opportunity to go there, despite passing through on my way to South Berwick.
It was during a conversation with my family over birthday dinner that I was reminded of all the places and things in Eliot I used to go to and partake of in my childhood: Dead Duck End, t-ball, etc…
During my two days of nothingness, I took the opportunity to take a drive through Eliot and revisit all the places of my youth. It is said so often that it has become a cliché, “you can never go back.”
The reality is there is both true and falsity in the saying. Driving and walking by the houses and places of my youth, I find myself transported to a different time of my life. Memories and feelings I have long since forgotten were awakened: Halloween parties, the “chair” story, tree tag, playing Jurassic Park, etc… It was bizarre. I had the happiest of childhoods, truly. And I could not help but wish I were living back in those simpler times.
I have always had wild ambitions – I remember taking a French class in elementary school after school, it must have been second- or third-grade, dreaming of the day I would go visit or perhaps even live in Paris. I recall watching “The Vicar of Dibley” knowing full well I would at some point live in London.
Many of the dreams and secrets I harbored in my youth have, in fact, come true. What is so strange is the visions I had in my head differ so much with the realities of life. My time in London was decidedly not what I had been daydreaming about in high school. I know this seems a base and silly observation, but what I am having trouble reconciling my London daydreams with my actual experiences.
I cannot decide if it is sad that I did not live in small thatched cottage drinking tea with fiancée Kate Beckinsale, or fabulous that I did live in Posh West London, became addicted to Strongbow and made out with a Jake Gyllenhaal lookalike.
Memory lane is a strange and wondrous place.
I am in the midst of re-reading Great Expectations – a truly brilliant, brilliant, brilliant piece of literature. I see so many echos of myself in the protagonist Pip. Pip comes from the humblest background, is raised by his brother-in-law, a black smith, and is content with his future as apprentice to the black smith until he starts visiting Miss Havisham and Estella.
Once he enters into the world of the aristocracy, his dreams and ambitions grow. He desperately wants to become a gentleman, accumulate wealth and intelligence to win over the haughty Estella.
I cannot help but remember a time when my dreams were relatively simple. Become the President of Strawbery Banke…have a darling 18-century home in Portsmouth…that has since been replaced with dreams of Oscar gold, a house in The Hamptons and being hounded by the Paparazzi.
And I also cannot help but wish, at times, that I still held tight to those simple dreams, sincerely and wholeheartedly – I think I would feel so much more fulfilled and content. We, with stars in our eyes, set ourselves up for a great deal of disappointment.
Well, I have given myself till 34 for the Oscar, so there is a bit more time for me. I need not declare myself a failure yet. These memories have made me long for a REUNION of sorts – I haven’t seen friends from high in AGEEEESS and would love to get together with you all in the near future. Soooo…FACEBOOK ME, and let’s get together.
Till next time, om, chanti, chanti, chanti, namaste.
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
It is the Truth Universally Acknowledged that a single gay yogi in possession of heart must be in want of a yoga class crush...
After a week of essentially non-stop celebrating, I am in the midst of what can only be described as post-celebration blues. Or the “mean reds” as dubbed by Holly Golightly. There is no particular reason for the mean reds. I suppose my feelings are natural. Last week was, of course, all about me, darling. And well, this week is just this week.
The trouble with my birthday this year is that it was, in fact, my twenty-fifth birthday; and no matter what anyone tells me, twenty-five feels old. I never pictured myself at twenty-five, but I suppose if I had, it would not have appeared as it is.
The milestone means it is time to take some initiative and make some changes – move forward. I certainly did so in the past year, so there is no point in becoming stagnant now. Any suggestions on what form that initiative should take???
I have been a compulsive reader of late – more so than usual. Just wrapped up Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, which despite the oddity of the concept, was quite fun: the perfect summer read. I do not necessarily think this should become a whole series of books (Sense and Sensibility and Sea Monsters was just announced), but I certainly enjoyed and appreciated the silliness of this novel.
I have to say, the experience only reinforced how clever and brilliant a writer Jane Austen was. She created the most interesting and human characters in her work. I have always harbored a strong desire to live in a Jane Austen novel; in some pastoral English setting, oblivious to the state of world, completely absorbed by the relationships and gossip of my small community. Although, one could argue that is what I had in Maine, and I am the first to admit how much I did not like it. But the citizens of South Berwick are not nearly as interesting or clever as the Woodhouses or Bennets or Dashwoods!
How lovely would it be to relocate to a charming English village in a comfortable home and read and gossip and look for husbands all day?!
I saw my yoga class crush this morning at New World Plaza while I read before work. Sigh…this is the boy who never smiled back. He hasn’t been to yoga in a while. I am pretty sure I’ve never seen any human being more cute and attractive in my whole life.
I give you all love…om, chanti, chanti, chanti, namaste.
The trouble with my birthday this year is that it was, in fact, my twenty-fifth birthday; and no matter what anyone tells me, twenty-five feels old. I never pictured myself at twenty-five, but I suppose if I had, it would not have appeared as it is.
The milestone means it is time to take some initiative and make some changes – move forward. I certainly did so in the past year, so there is no point in becoming stagnant now. Any suggestions on what form that initiative should take???
I have been a compulsive reader of late – more so than usual. Just wrapped up Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, which despite the oddity of the concept, was quite fun: the perfect summer read. I do not necessarily think this should become a whole series of books (Sense and Sensibility and Sea Monsters was just announced), but I certainly enjoyed and appreciated the silliness of this novel.
I have to say, the experience only reinforced how clever and brilliant a writer Jane Austen was. She created the most interesting and human characters in her work. I have always harbored a strong desire to live in a Jane Austen novel; in some pastoral English setting, oblivious to the state of world, completely absorbed by the relationships and gossip of my small community. Although, one could argue that is what I had in Maine, and I am the first to admit how much I did not like it. But the citizens of South Berwick are not nearly as interesting or clever as the Woodhouses or Bennets or Dashwoods!
How lovely would it be to relocate to a charming English village in a comfortable home and read and gossip and look for husbands all day?!
I saw my yoga class crush this morning at New World Plaza while I read before work. Sigh…this is the boy who never smiled back. He hasn’t been to yoga in a while. I am pretty sure I’ve never seen any human being more cute and attractive in my whole life.
I give you all love…om, chanti, chanti, chanti, namaste.
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Twelfth Night...
Time manages to escape me yet again.
It has been a celebratory week to be sure! Thursday was Richard’s birthday; as such, there was a night of celebrating. Saturday night was the party of the year at my friend Marisa’s apartment. And holy crap, when I say it is the party of the year, I mean it sincerely – we are talking 80 people, likely more. And yesterday marked the start of my birthday celebrations!
Cory Pride Week is here!
Last night was ridiculously amazing. Many people came out to celebrate at Blockheads. We had fun; we drank ritas! It was, undoubtedly, the best birthday party I have had on record. For those of you who could make it, THANK YOU!!! YOU ARE ALL AMAZING!!!
Tonight, I head up to Maine where celebrations will continue there as well as in Boston.
I have been meaning to share with you all my thoughts on The Public Theater’s production of Twelfth Night in Central Park starring Anne Hathaway, Audra McDonald, Julie White and Raul Esparza.
Unfortunately, my review is ill timed, since the production closed on Sunday. Although, The Public certainly needs no words of praise from me in order to boost attendance. This production was a resounding success with both audiences and critics. And with good reason. Twelfth Night was one of the most magical and transformative nights I have experienced in theatre.
Up until very recently, Shakespeare has always intimidated me. I was scared of the language; I would get lost in it. But with the passing of time and growth intellect, I think, I’ve come to really love and appreciate the work. Shakespeare knew his shit. The characters, plots and stories are complex, interesting and more often than not surprisingly timeless and contemporary; proving in some sense, how much people really are fundamentally the same.
The language that used to frighten me so is now the primary reason why I love his work. You have to pay clear attention, and because there is such a contrast between the English spoken today with Elizabethan English. The language requires, for me, a greater suspension of disbelief. When I see a Shakespeare play I am transported into a completely new world and can find myself lost in the story. This feeling is rare in theatre, and so extraordinary.
The entire cast was brilliant. Anne Hathaway really excelled and shined in the role of Viola, performing with confidence and pizzazz. Her performance won me over completely. I entirely entranced by her now and look forward to future work, both on stage and screen.
There really is nothing like watching one of Shakespeare’s sweetest and funniest romantic comedies under the stars. I look forward to seeing Boston’s Shakespeare in the Commons in a couple of weeks – this year is The Comedy of Errors. The only possible negative comment I can make on the subject is that due to the show’s popularity and free admission charge, I did not manage to get in to see Twelfth Night more.
Till we meet again, om, chanti, chanti, chanti, namaste.
It has been a celebratory week to be sure! Thursday was Richard’s birthday; as such, there was a night of celebrating. Saturday night was the party of the year at my friend Marisa’s apartment. And holy crap, when I say it is the party of the year, I mean it sincerely – we are talking 80 people, likely more. And yesterday marked the start of my birthday celebrations!
Cory Pride Week is here!
Last night was ridiculously amazing. Many people came out to celebrate at Blockheads. We had fun; we drank ritas! It was, undoubtedly, the best birthday party I have had on record. For those of you who could make it, THANK YOU!!! YOU ARE ALL AMAZING!!!
Tonight, I head up to Maine where celebrations will continue there as well as in Boston.
I have been meaning to share with you all my thoughts on The Public Theater’s production of Twelfth Night in Central Park starring Anne Hathaway, Audra McDonald, Julie White and Raul Esparza.
Unfortunately, my review is ill timed, since the production closed on Sunday. Although, The Public certainly needs no words of praise from me in order to boost attendance. This production was a resounding success with both audiences and critics. And with good reason. Twelfth Night was one of the most magical and transformative nights I have experienced in theatre.
Up until very recently, Shakespeare has always intimidated me. I was scared of the language; I would get lost in it. But with the passing of time and growth intellect, I think, I’ve come to really love and appreciate the work. Shakespeare knew his shit. The characters, plots and stories are complex, interesting and more often than not surprisingly timeless and contemporary; proving in some sense, how much people really are fundamentally the same.
The language that used to frighten me so is now the primary reason why I love his work. You have to pay clear attention, and because there is such a contrast between the English spoken today with Elizabethan English. The language requires, for me, a greater suspension of disbelief. When I see a Shakespeare play I am transported into a completely new world and can find myself lost in the story. This feeling is rare in theatre, and so extraordinary.
The entire cast was brilliant. Anne Hathaway really excelled and shined in the role of Viola, performing with confidence and pizzazz. Her performance won me over completely. I entirely entranced by her now and look forward to future work, both on stage and screen.
There really is nothing like watching one of Shakespeare’s sweetest and funniest romantic comedies under the stars. I look forward to seeing Boston’s Shakespeare in the Commons in a couple of weeks – this year is The Comedy of Errors. The only possible negative comment I can make on the subject is that due to the show’s popularity and free admission charge, I did not manage to get in to see Twelfth Night more.
Till we meet again, om, chanti, chanti, chanti, namaste.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
How many of you have seen The Hangover?
Holy crap – the movie changed my life. From here on out, whenever I relate an event of my past, it’ll be defined as pre- and post-The Hangover.
Who knew?
This past weekend was the most lovely I have had in memory: completely enjoyable and relaxing. Went to yoga and ran each day, bumped into people all over, saw my new favorite movie (tied with Vicky Cristina Barcelona), finished Olive Kitteridge and started Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, which is completely silly and entertaining. No complaints from me!
I never would have guessed that I would love The Hangover as much as I did. The film is brilliantly written and acted. The script it clever and outrageous, and the actors, particularly Zach Galifianakis, have impeccable comic timing. The camaraderie and chemistry between the four friends is so genuine – this is a silly, offensive comedy to be sure, but it has a real heart thanks to that chemistry. The friendship feels real and palpable.
No movie in memory has left me with more quotes or ever made me laugh out loud so hard – it’s ridiculous, intense, amazing. GO SEE IT.
And, oh, Bradley Cooper – how much are we all madly in love with Bradley Cooper? Always playing the dick – in this and He’s Just Not That Into You– but you love him anyway. So charming, so handsome and so talented! I want to see more of him!
Apparently, he auditioned and desperately wanted the James Franco role in Milk. What a mistake those filmmakers made not casting him – he would have sooo fantastic. I’d love to see him in a more serious piece now.
Tomorrow will likely be a day filled with anxiety and existential crisis, merely because I am seeing Waiting for Godot tonight – I am quite interested to see how this revival is.
What was your favorite quote from The Hangover? Mine:
“Do you have park so close? I’m not suppose to be within a 200 yards of a school…or a Chuck E. Cheese.”
AND
Alan Garner: “Okay, well maybe we should tell that to Rain Man, because he practically bankrupted a casino, and he was a ruh-tard.”
Stu Price: “A what?”
Alan Garner: “He was a ruh-tard.”
I’ll also leave you with a clip from the film – ENJOY! Until next time, om, chanti, chanti, chanti, namaste.
Holy crap – the movie changed my life. From here on out, whenever I relate an event of my past, it’ll be defined as pre- and post-The Hangover.
Who knew?
This past weekend was the most lovely I have had in memory: completely enjoyable and relaxing. Went to yoga and ran each day, bumped into people all over, saw my new favorite movie (tied with Vicky Cristina Barcelona), finished Olive Kitteridge and started Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, which is completely silly and entertaining. No complaints from me!
I never would have guessed that I would love The Hangover as much as I did. The film is brilliantly written and acted. The script it clever and outrageous, and the actors, particularly Zach Galifianakis, have impeccable comic timing. The camaraderie and chemistry between the four friends is so genuine – this is a silly, offensive comedy to be sure, but it has a real heart thanks to that chemistry. The friendship feels real and palpable.
No movie in memory has left me with more quotes or ever made me laugh out loud so hard – it’s ridiculous, intense, amazing. GO SEE IT.
And, oh, Bradley Cooper – how much are we all madly in love with Bradley Cooper? Always playing the dick – in this and He’s Just Not That Into You– but you love him anyway. So charming, so handsome and so talented! I want to see more of him!
Apparently, he auditioned and desperately wanted the James Franco role in Milk. What a mistake those filmmakers made not casting him – he would have sooo fantastic. I’d love to see him in a more serious piece now.
Tomorrow will likely be a day filled with anxiety and existential crisis, merely because I am seeing Waiting for Godot tonight – I am quite interested to see how this revival is.
What was your favorite quote from The Hangover? Mine:
“Do you have park so close? I’m not suppose to be within a 200 yards of a school…or a Chuck E. Cheese.”
AND
Alan Garner: “Okay, well maybe we should tell that to Rain Man, because he practically bankrupted a casino, and he was a ruh-tard.”
Stu Price: “A what?”
Alan Garner: “He was a ruh-tard.”
I’ll also leave you with a clip from the film – ENJOY! Until next time, om, chanti, chanti, chanti, namaste.
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