» Friday, December 31, 2004

I think I've been asleep for the better part of a year, and I'm just now waking up.

I didn't want to leave Boston. Life wasn't always good there, but it was almost always easy. There wasn't a lot of thought involved: I knew where to go on Saturday nights, and where to shop, and who to see, and everything else. I knew every inch of my house with my eyes closed. I knew the numbers for local delivery by heart.

Baltimore isn't easy, or at least it hasn't been for me. The first few months were like suspended animation, wherein suspended animation includes a mind-numbing amount of cable television. The people I met were... not right. The restaurants were not good. There's no Newbury Comics. There's no Newbury Street, for that matter, and nothing like it.

I'm not sure I'll ever stop being homesick, but things are finally falling into place. I've met people now who are totally right. I'm grateful for the reasons they give me to turn off the tv. I'm grateful for my job situation; It's starting to move uphill again. I'm grateful for the strange moments that remind me I'm really alive.

The restaurants still aren't very good, but I've found some favorites. It's important to have favorites.

2004 was a lonely year. I'm glad it's over. I think 2005 will be better. Happy New Year, everyone. I wish we could all be together tonight.

» Sunday, December 26, 2004

Brooke Tarnoff aime:

• arracher de grands morceaux de papier peint
• songs with a barely audible spoken track. examples: "God" by Tori Amos and "Perfecting Loneliness" by Jets to Brazil
• songs that sound like a sad carnival. examples: "Brighter Day" by Jellyfish, "Animals on Wheels" by Sam Phillips, various songs by Black Heart Procession
• doing dishes in roller skates
• snagging hangnails on satin
• being touched on the collarbone
• friends who know small details, such as how she takes her coffee or her childhood nickname

Brooke Tarnoff n'aime pas:

• avoir les plis des draps imprimés sur la joue le matin
• being hugged by strangers
• the sound of styrofoam touching other styrofoam.
• the feeling of deodorant on fingers
• ridiculous names for dishes at restaurants

On another note, I found more cassette tapes I recorded of friends and myself in college, and have come to the following conclusions: I was very stupid, and in no way did I resemble a profound thinker when I'd too much to drink. In fact, I resembled a moron inebriate. Very, very closely. Good to know.

I also found a video tape of me singing, and I've managed to capture the audio here for you. It was a high school music revue, and our director made me sing a duet from Phantom of the Opera all by myself. Creepy! Please listen if you like, but don't judge me too harshly. I was 15, and even so not nearly as off-pitch as I sound. The tape is almost 14 years old and in sad shape. I offer, as evidence, the crapaoke back-up music, which was once soullessly perfect and now sounds like drunk violins playing through 2 feet of Irish whiskey. The quality is understandably poor, but I thought it was worth it, if only to hear me struggle against my midwestern accent with varied results.

» Thursday, December 23, 2004

I find the phenomenon called Livejournal.com positively fascinating. Part journal, part community, it breeds an intimacy that I don't think is otherwise possible. There's currently a thing circulating, it goes a little something like this:

1. Reply to this post, because I would like to say a couple words about you.
2. I will also tell you what song(s) remind me of you when I hear it.
3. I will also tell you what celebrity/public person/fictinal character/image you remind me of, either personality-wise or looks-wise.
4. I will also give ONE WORD that I associate with you when I think of you.

The thing I find interesting, which may not be true for anyone else, is how much easier it is to be effusively affectionate when I know I have an audience. I'm not really sure what that says about me. I fear intimacy? I have no idea. All I know is that I'm certain I'm being sincere and certain I'm not grandstanding, but I can write in a public forum things I can't picture saying in person or even in an email. I want everyone to know how incredible I think my friends are, but the thought of telling them face-to-face makes me panic a little. Maybe it's because professing love feels a little creepy, but telling other people about it is just plain sweet.

Friends, know this: I do love you, so much. I'm just shy and prone to getting hot around the ears when I try to tell you.

If you'd like to see some nice things about my friends (and some of the wonderful things they've said to me, too), please do.

» Monday, December 20, 2004

It's time I make use of my ridiculously excessive webspace on photogratify.com. Have a little clip of my last night in Boston!

The sound is less than ideal, so let me help you with a transcript:

Brooke - "It's a little song to help you learn about the river*. Well, the stream. Or the... the..."
Jess - "It was our own private Hurricane Isabel."
Brooke - "Also Idaho. Also Jesus. Also... dancer."
Jess - "Also Jeebus."
Brooke - "Jeebus!"
Dan - "Also, I don't want you to leave."
Brooke - "I know. I don't wanna — well, I do, but then I don't. I do and I don't... Oh, my God! That was my tushie!"

* I will never adequately explain this in-joke, but please believe when I say the origin is among the funniest moments of my entire life.

» Thursday, December 16, 2004

I love Ryan. Love. Love him. Because:

Lupschada: at least it's nice to know I've still got it.
Moraulf: I suspect you will never not have it.
Moraulf: You have mental "it" in addition to physical "it". This makes you invincible. You're like an "it" superhero.
Lupschada: jkshdsgdsjh;fkhjl;gkj';gljk

And a million other reasons. But that one's pretty good for today.

» Wednesday, December 08, 2004

I never claimed to be normal.

A couple years ago, I decided the funniest thing in the world would be if Pippin the hobbit showed up on one's doorstep and indefinitely commandeered the television. He'd be perfectly lovely about it, but he'd never relinquish the set. He couldn't be lured away, and he'd decline every invitation with a lilting "No, I don't think so." I can't explain why I found this funny, but I wasn't the only one. The Dread Ex loved the concept, and when we'd see fit to answer in the negative, it was always "No, I don't think so," in a vague hobbit brogue.

I've always wanted to see an in-joke come to life, so when the Dread Ex got a job in England, I took the opportunity to make magic as a going-away present. Please note: Billy Boyd has never been in my house. I made the D.E. pose for some photos, and the web provided me with a few different angles of the actor's noggin. Photoshop and I married the two, and I'd like to share the webbified results with you, my friends.

Read about Pippin!