offbalance: (amalthea by antheia)
Nearly titled this entry "Girls Just wanna have lunch," as every time I try to consume food in the office, suddenly everyone everywhere (be it near or far) MUST TALK TO ME IMMEDIATELY.   I think they forget sometimes that I'm an actual human with biological needs, and not some magical being who grants wishes.

Trying to decide if I want to see <i>Moana</i> or <i>Arrival</i> more if [livejournal.com profile] j_bkl and I head to the movies on Friday.  I guess it will be dependent on mood and where we are when we head to see it.

*********

There has been entirely too much death in 2016 to begin with, but the last week alone has been kick after kick.  People close to me have lost loved ones very suddenly in the last few days.  And of course, I lost a bona-fide icon yesterday.

I never got to meet Carrie Fisher in person.  My wish was that she'd hear me say something really snarky, turn to  me and say something  to the effect of, "Oh, you're MEAN. Let's be friends!"  There was so much to admire about her.

First, there was Leia.  Wee, tiny me was exposed to Star Wars and saw this incredibly beautiful woman who would beat the everliving crap out of you if you were in her way, sass you if you underestimated her, and do whatever she needed to do to save you if she loved you and you loved her.  My mother carefully curated much of the tv/film I was exposed to without seeming to - and I usually found myself in front of strong (and occasionally smart-mouthed) depictions of women, like Leia, Uhura, Wonder Woman, Laverne & Shirley, Murphy Brown - the list goes on.  But Leia forever warped my vision of what a princess was.  Yes, she could be a pretty girl in a pretty dress, but she was also going to be the one with a blaster who was going to take charge and save the day if needed be.  She didn't need anyone to rescue her, thanks.  In fact, if you were lucky, she'd rescue you.  That left a dent.

Then, as I got older, I started seeing Carrie pop up in other favorite films, like <i>When Harry Met Sally</i> and <i>Drop Dead Fred</i> and countless others.  Then, I found out she was an author.  (Yes, I know I need to read Postcards from the Edge.  I own it.  I keep picking it up and meaning to). I adored <i>Wishful Drinking</i>.  Word of her prowess as a script doctor also filtered back to me.  But it wasn't just her accomplishments I came to admire - it was the way she refused to be ashamed of her failings.  Or even think of them as such.  She'd probably shrug and say it's all part of the package.  Addiction? Mental illness? Whatever, buddy - you must be this tall to ride.  She would never, ever be ashamed.  And that's what I admired the MOST about her.  She seemed to go through life without any embarrassment about who she was.

She died bathed in moonlight, strangled by her own bra - but we were the ones left heartbroken.

This fucking year, man.  I swear.  
offbalance: (amalthea by antheia)
Earlier this week, I found out that a good friend from college passed away. John was a year ahead of me, and we kind of lost touch after he graduated. In the olden days before social media, dumb crap like that happened all the time. But when the entire world joined facebook, he friended me and we sort of blipped at each other via mentions and status updates. I ran into a mutual friend (Liz) one day that happened to be his wedding day, as she was off to rent a car to drive to it. Other than that, I don't think I saw him hardly at all after he left Albany.

Then on the way to work this week I see note via facebook that he had lost his battle with lymphoma. He left behind a wife and seven-month-old son. I didn't even know he was sick. Liz told me that he had only been sick for a few months, that it progressed quickly and he had died of heart failure. (They started out and stayed close, kind of like how Carly & I were from the jump.)

John was one of the sweetest guys I knew in college. He was proof that you could be someone no one wanted to mess with but still be one of the most caring, generous friends a person could hope to have. I was part of a group that spent lots of happy nights in the apartment he had in a shabby, run-down building on the edge of Washington Park called The Willet. So many great parties, and nights spent just hanging out were spent in that place. Granted, I wasn't as close to him as some others were (thanks again, social anxiety - that was during the era where I desperately wanted to allow myself to get close to people but found it really difficult to do so), but he always made me feel like I mattered, and deserved to be included, and that my thoughts and opinions were valid and interesting. I hope I made him feel that way at least once.

I don't think I'm going to go to the memorial. I agree with what a different friend said about it - I'd feel like an interloper. It'd been too long since we'd been in real contact, and I know so little about what was going on with him. It makes me sad. But maybe some people are only meant to be in your life a short while. I don't know. But he was a great guy, and will be missed. As I said on facebook, 20 year old me was inconsolable when she found out the news.

Sad news

Oct. 3rd, 2011 05:10 pm
offbalance: (gardenstate hug by antheia)
It's been a rough couple of days.

Started off Saturday a bit hung over, because [livejournal.com profile] redstapler was in town, and that required a toast or three. After I got J off to work, I decided to do some coat shopping. I was off today and I figured that might be the better day to spend on the sofa. After fruitless trips to Syms and Century 21, I was browsing in Bloomingdales when I got phone call.

A really fucking bad phone call. The kind of phone call that you really never expect nor want to receive.

I have this friend Gyda, a lot of you know her. Gyda was supposed to marry her lovely fiance, Aaron, in about a month, down in the Cayman Islands.

Gyda's fiance died Saturday morning.

They were supposed to be visiting her dad's new place in New England this weekend, and he was supposed to be on a certain train at a certain time. When he wasn't, they called a friend to check on him. They'd discovered that Aaron, at 42 years of age, had passed away in his sleep.

We're all in shock. Her the worst of it, clearly.

I didn't know him super-well. He wasn't outgoing or gregarious - he actually played it pretty close to the vest most of the time. But I did know some important things about him. He was a super-sweet guy under a tough-seeming shell. He lacked pretension and bullshit. And most importantly, he loved my friend more than anything. His entire face changed when he smiled, but when he smiled at her? The world was almost a different place, you could tell. Over time, we learned we had a few things in common, especially since he was a huge fan of many of the cult tv shows I was. We'd bonded over Veronica Mars at least once when I expressed glee over seeing it on Gyda's shelf and she told me her seeing it was entirely Aaron's doing.

The other thing about Aaron was how talented he was. Both of them are heavily involved in the Brick Theater and I'd gotten to see him perform many times. He was a really gifted actor. I'd seen him do a number of very different kinds of things, and many times, he was the very best thing on the stage.

I wish I'd spoken to him more times with fewer beers in my system. You always think you're going to have more time.

My heart is breaking for Gyda right now. As she said over and over, between sobs, when I saw her on Saturday was that this was the worst thing ever...the worst thing imaginable. And I agree. I can't think of anything worse. Especially for someone as awesome, loyal, selfless and loving as Gyda is. I wish I could do more than feel for her, but right now that's all that can be done. And it sucks. She's one of the very best people I know, and I believed wholeheartedly that he was completely worthy of her. Neither of them deserved this. As one person kept saying at the gathering Saturday, they were both cheated out of a life together. And I think that sums it up.
offbalance: (ST ORLY)
First Majel. Now? KHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN.

offbalance: (ST ORLY)
First Majel. Now? KHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN.

Sad news

Dec. 18th, 2008 11:36 pm
offbalance: (amalthea by antheia)
Majel Barrett Roddenberry, R.I.P.

I'm going to pour one out of the Sacred Chalis of Rixx in your honor.

Sad news

Dec. 18th, 2008 11:36 pm
offbalance: (amalthea by antheia)
Majel Barrett Roddenberry, R.I.P.

I'm going to pour one out of the Sacred Chalis of Rixx in your honor.
offbalance: (yankees by oatmeal_cookie)
I was pretty heartbroken when my dad texted me on Saturday night to tell me that Bobby Murcer had died. I'd been following his struggle with brain cancer since the news came down and I'd continued to hope that he'd find some way to beat it.

Back in ye olden days before Michael Kay became inflated by his own hype, he and Murcer made up one of my favorite teams of announcers on YES. Kay would be full of all sorts of bizarre stats (like how the guy currently batting ranks third for doubles hit by right-handers on Tuesdays during a waxing moon) and Murcer would simply call the game, sharing the occasional story about when he was a player. The obituaries and eulogies I've been reading (I've linked to a few above via Gothamist that are pretty good, particularly Lupica's column) focus on how classy Murcer was, but they leave out how funny and easy-going the man was. He always gave as good as he got, but what he got was taken gracefully, and with genuine humor (instead of the fake, tv humor broadcasters affect when they're pretending to like each other). No one pretended to like him, they didn't have to pretend. He was easy to like.

One of my all-time favorite moments is a few years back when he was playing right field during Old Timer's Day, and was wired for sound for the YES broadcast. I'm not sure what was funnier - the commentary later or the fact that he had no idea that he was ignoring role call in the bleachers in order to give his play by play. After the fact, he said he felt "like a dope" for not realize that the bleacher creatures were chanting his name while he was miked up.

I was sad when Scooter died, sure. But he was older, and I'd heard fewer of his broadcasts than I've heard of Murcer's. My dad said that he felt like he'd lost a friend, and I think that's a good way to put it. If Michael Kay is the dude in the bar who is constantly yammering at you to prove how much he knows about baseball, Murcer is the quiet dude who would have quietly sat there with his beer until something notable happened, and would say something cool and interesting; someone you wanted to keep talking. I wish we had more years with him - both in the broadcast booth and on the planet. Murcer was, by all accounts, a gentleman and a good person, and it sucks when someone like that has to pass on before their time. I keep tearing up reading about him, and I nearly lost it completely when I read what Pinella had to say (they were teammates on the famous Bronx Zoo team). The only comfort I take is the knowledge that he probably got to use the express line into heaven, and is probably involved in a pretty good Field-of-Dreams style pickup game right now - with Mantle, and Munson, Gehrig and Ruth.

More on the weekend later - there was beach time and karaoke and brunch, and plenty of time with J.
offbalance: (yankees by oatmeal_cookie)
I was pretty heartbroken when my dad texted me on Saturday night to tell me that Bobby Murcer had died. I'd been following his struggle with brain cancer since the news came down and I'd continued to hope that he'd find some way to beat it.

Back in ye olden days before Michael Kay became inflated by his own hype, he and Murcer made up one of my favorite teams of announcers on YES. Kay would be full of all sorts of bizarre stats (like how the guy currently batting ranks third for doubles hit by right-handers on Tuesdays during a waxing moon) and Murcer would simply call the game, sharing the occasional story about when he was a player. The obituaries and eulogies I've been reading (I've linked to a few above via Gothamist that are pretty good, particularly Lupica's column) focus on how classy Murcer was, but they leave out how funny and easy-going the man was. He always gave as good as he got, but what he got was taken gracefully, and with genuine humor (instead of the fake, tv humor broadcasters affect when they're pretending to like each other). No one pretended to like him, they didn't have to pretend. He was easy to like.

One of my all-time favorite moments is a few years back when he was playing right field during Old Timer's Day, and was wired for sound for the YES broadcast. I'm not sure what was funnier - the commentary later or the fact that he had no idea that he was ignoring role call in the bleachers in order to give his play by play. After the fact, he said he felt "like a dope" for not realize that the bleacher creatures were chanting his name while he was miked up.

I was sad when Scooter died, sure. But he was older, and I'd heard fewer of his broadcasts than I've heard of Murcer's. My dad said that he felt like he'd lost a friend, and I think that's a good way to put it. If Michael Kay is the dude in the bar who is constantly yammering at you to prove how much he knows about baseball, Murcer is the quiet dude who would have quietly sat there with his beer until something notable happened, and would say something cool and interesting; someone you wanted to keep talking. I wish we had more years with him - both in the broadcast booth and on the planet. Murcer was, by all accounts, a gentleman and a good person, and it sucks when someone like that has to pass on before their time. I keep tearing up reading about him, and I nearly lost it completely when I read what Pinella had to say (they were teammates on the famous Bronx Zoo team). The only comfort I take is the knowledge that he probably got to use the express line into heaven, and is probably involved in a pretty good Field-of-Dreams style pickup game right now - with Mantle, and Munson, Gehrig and Ruth.

More on the weekend later - there was beach time and karaoke and brunch, and plenty of time with J.
offbalance: (Bridget fuuuuuuck by iamjoey)
I was in high school the first time I remember hearing him - I was watching some kind of clip show with my parents and they had his old-as-the-hills Al Sleet, the Hippie Dippy Weather Man routine. ("Tonight will be dark, followed by more dark, with scattered light until morning.") I died. Later, I was in a junk store on 86th Street in Brooklyn and found copies of AM/FM and Class Clown on vinyl for a dollar each, and I bought each. I loved them. My parents got a kick out of it, I remember, after all they'd seen him perform live in the 1970s.

I always followed him after that - Brain Droppings was one of the first books I remember reading that made me laugh out loud on public transportation.

I'm kind of sad that he died, and kind of pissed. His commentary on life and politics was usually spot on. (Occasionally he'd pass into crazy rantville, but so do we all). I hope that [livejournal.com profile] ozzdo is right and that Penn & Teller pick up his mantle of social commentary and keep running with it. Still, it won't be the same. Penn is funny, but he's not Carlin. Nobody else was, or could be. Even though there were so very many who were inspired by his comedy and style.

RIP, George.

Some people see things that are and ask, Why? Some people dream of things that never were and ask, Why not? Some people have to go to work and don't have time for all that.
offbalance: (Bridget fuuuuuuck by iamjoey)
I was in high school the first time I remember hearing him - I was watching some kind of clip show with my parents and they had his old-as-the-hills Al Sleet, the Hippie Dippy Weather Man routine. ("Tonight will be dark, followed by more dark, with scattered light until morning.") I died. Later, I was in a junk store on 86th Street in Brooklyn and found copies of AM/FM and Class Clown on vinyl for a dollar each, and I bought each. I loved them. My parents got a kick out of it, I remember, after all they'd seen him perform live in the 1970s.

I always followed him after that - Brain Droppings was one of the first books I remember reading that made me laugh out loud on public transportation.

I'm kind of sad that he died, and kind of pissed. His commentary on life and politics was usually spot on. (Occasionally he'd pass into crazy rantville, but so do we all). I hope that [livejournal.com profile] ozzdo is right and that Penn & Teller pick up his mantle of social commentary and keep running with it. Still, it won't be the same. Penn is funny, but he's not Carlin. Nobody else was, or could be. Even though there were so very many who were inspired by his comedy and style.

RIP, George.

Some people see things that are and ask, Why? Some people dream of things that never were and ask, Why not? Some people have to go to work and don't have time for all that.

RIP

Feb. 1st, 2005 10:29 am
offbalance: (amalthea by antheia)
This may sound weird to some of you, but bear with me here.

I just received word that my dentist died.

And it's a big deal. She was a lovely woman. Not even 40 yet. Pleasant as pleasant can be. I never dreaded going to see her. She was honest and upfront about everything, and really listened to you when you talked. She cared if it hurt, and did everything to prevent that.

Apparently she came down with a virus and it spread to her heart.

And that was it. :(

Boss L actually cried when I told her. Boss T is really upset. M, the woman who reccommended her to all of us, was crying too. Hell, the whole department liked her, practically.

It's so unfair. Walking excrement like that kid who shot the actress is alive and well, and a lovely person like my dentist dies. It's a mad world.

RIP

Feb. 1st, 2005 10:29 am
offbalance: (amalthea by antheia)
This may sound weird to some of you, but bear with me here.

I just received word that my dentist died.

And it's a big deal. She was a lovely woman. Not even 40 yet. Pleasant as pleasant can be. I never dreaded going to see her. She was honest and upfront about everything, and really listened to you when you talked. She cared if it hurt, and did everything to prevent that.

Apparently she came down with a virus and it spread to her heart.

And that was it. :(

Boss L actually cried when I told her. Boss T is really upset. M, the woman who reccommended her to all of us, was crying too. Hell, the whole department liked her, practically.

It's so unfair. Walking excrement like that kid who shot the actress is alive and well, and a lovely person like my dentist dies. It's a mad world.

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