let me eat cake...

i had a chance to take in a sunday matinee of marie antoinette. i read
the new yorker review prior to attendance, so i knew i was in for.
despite the anthony lane's scathing (and hilarious) review, i still
trumped over to the amc van ness with nicholas for an afternoon treat.

i have to begin by saying that it was very difficult to get into this
film. it had a very slow beginning with a number of scenes that seemed
either too long or not crucial to the story development. don't you
hate that? i do. immediately i start looking at my cell to see what
time it is, thus trying to calculate how long this pitty of a film
will be. this happened when i went to see "the lake house" (yes, i saw
it). so roughly 20 minutes into the film i began to get somewhat
comfortable. i never really got into the dialogue (because there
wasn't much). i didn't enjoy the jason schwartzman as the dauphin--i
didn't believe him and i kept seeing "weird ethan" in his eyes,
kristen dunst reminded me of sour, retarded milk--can milk be
retarded--and all in all the movie missed its mark.

coppala's intent was clear. she was hoping do skillfully intertwine
eighteenth century france with modern day. fair enough, right? but it
was off on so many accounts. the converse, the language, the behavior
of the characters, the music, the overall indulgence somehow didn't
gel in the way one would have expected. somehow there manages to be a
great disconnect in the film. perhaps it isn't cohesive due to her
choice of actors? or maybe she's trying too hard? i can tell she's
trying to tap into some greater meaning. nicholas suggested that
perhaps the 80s tunes (i.e.bow wow wow, siouxsie and the banshees)
where a failed attempt at coppala creating a comparison between
over-the-top way of the 80's to that of revolutionary france.

anthony lane suggests that paris hilton directed the film. i found
this hilarious, but i do feel that the redeeming quality of the flick
was it's decadence. being the sort of gal that i am i can't shy away
from luxurious fabrics, unforgiving colors, ornate design, perfect
curls, cupcakes, candy, pastel poker chips, ribbons, porcelain tea
cups, champers (champagne), luscious bedding, dramatic dress, and a
delicate french backdrop, so for those things alone, i enjoyed the
film. it made me want to lie around and relish in dainty eats all day,
dress wale-bone corsets, pick out shoes, and bitch about who's who's
in the french social scene. oh and make "nice" with sexy soldiers.

i did however walk away with a sparked interest for marie antoinette
and i'm interested in picking up a copy of antonia fraser's book, upon
which this film is based. i guess any girl who supposedly tells a
bunch of starving people to "eat cake," is a no nonsense darling after
my own heart. the movie wasn't great, but i'm glad i saw it. and to be
honest, because it was so pretty, i'd see it again.

black babies are the new birkin

If this is true than I can get rich pretty easily. Black babies seem to be a hot comodity in Hollywood. So, if I pop out a few does that mean that I'll reap the monetary benefits of well tanned offspring? Probably not, because at the rate I'm going my children won't be pure breed, since I don't date very many black men. They'll be muts, so I won't get as much money for them...damn.

This brings me to my next topic of discussion. I've been dating more. I've been going out more. Which means, I've been drinking more (my liver runs marathons). But back to the first point. I've been dating more. Now I had a date back in August and the follow (or lack thereof) was wretched. However, I met a gem--Southern Hottie--and we reconnected last weekend. Exquisite, I tell you. I also managed to sneak in a dinner date on a school night with "Apple." Apple is cute and, despite Nicholas's contempt for Jonathan Rhys Meyers, Apple resembles him (J.R.M, not Nicholas). Any who, while I have had no shame in expressing my wish for a boyfriend, I like dating right now, it's fun.

My mother thinks this is obsurd and I should, "wait on God" and that SF is filled with weirdos. I came back at her by stating that people in Riverhell do the same thing, only they meet at TGI Friday's. To be honest, I don't really care if she thinks dating is crazy. Someday, my date will become my claim to fame. Because he will assist me in producing an impure blood line and we'll get rich off of it. While black babies are the new birkin, half black babies well become the new vintage chanel.

in search of

I took at trip to the SF MoMa yesterday evening. Not long after moving to San Francisco, I realized it was one of my favorite things to do. While I am an artist by no means, the MoMA is still a very inspirational place for me. It's personal, calming, and everything I need to feel grounded again.

I was accompanied by Nicholas. I usually don't like going to museums with people, because it can spoil the sacredness of the experience, but this was quite different. Nicholas really knows his stuff. And I found it freshened the visit having someone actually explain the purpose or school thought behind some of those more abstract pieces. Nicholas also introduced me to Joseph Cornell---who is my new favorite. I'm thoroughly intrigued by his boxes. "Pink Castle," captivated. I also managed to rekindle my fondness for Yves Klein. I love "International Klein Blue."

I'm thinking about spending more time learning about modern art. I initially didn't have much of a liking for it. I thought it too abstract and lacking artisticness, because oftentimes modern art is subtle or seems simplisctic (like I could do that at home, simplistic), but when one understands the madness behind it, it really adds a layer to it's intricateness. I want to go back to the MoMA soon. Jill has suggested that if I like art I ought to go to NY--I agree. She's suggessted that I go to New York and devote the weekend to "museum hoping." It sounds splendid!