This song has been making me homesick and that is a tricky thing to do.

(Sidenote: I know it’s poppy country and I know it has its weird judgy moments, but it is still a very pretty song that makes me want to tear my heart out and bury it in Merced County, so that is something.)

(Source: Spotify)

Improv Rambling: A Simple Way To Get Better At Second Beats

chrisreblogs:

Recently-ish a 301/401 level improv person told me they were struggling with second beats. They could recognize the game…or art least a game… and play it in the first beat but then would struggle bring it to the second beat. Or how to initiate the second beat. Or all that stuff.

Practicing second beats is hard for the simple reason that if the first beat is muddy or unclear or just bad, it’s hard to get a solid second beat.

Here is a simple way to get better at them: SEE SHOWS.

Lot’s of shows. If you want to get better at Harolds, see shows with Harolds (for example, Lloyd Night and Harold Night at UCB in NYC). See as many as you can. People tell you to, but you really need to.

And don’t watch it passively. This will probably suck some of the fun and joy of watching improv for a while, but actively study and think about the scenes. Has those first beats, in your head try to label the game. And then think of what second beats you might initiate.

And then when the second beats happen, see how closely they played the game as you labeled it. If it fit, great! If it felt different than what you thought the game was, can you label it in a away that fit both the first and second beat?

Also pay attention to what second beats hit the ground running and which got an immediate laugh from the first line. And what second beats rambled before they found their feet.

See show and think about them. Seriously. Do it. Make time for it if you want to become better. Classes and practices are not enough.

1) Walking from Chelsea to the LES at 3am is a quick and easy way to remember why I didn’t like college. So many crying and vomiting NYU kids! Many shouting at bouncers ABOUT the fact that they are NYU kids! Jesus fuck.

2) Zenon, Girl of the 21st Century is on television and I am really enjoying it because, I guess, it is 3am and I am dogsitting in a big apartment with a projector and a great big wall and I am still hyper from the Lady Jam and I have donuts to eat.

mouenne:

All I can ever be to you is a darkness that we knew
And this regret I got accustomed to
Once it was so right when we were at our height
Waiting for you in the hotel at night

I knew I hadn’t met my match but every moment we could snatch
I don’t know why I got so attached
It’s my responsibility you don’t owe nothing to me
But to walk away, I have no capacity

He walks away, the sun goes down
He takes the day but I’m gone
And in your way in this blue shade
My tears dry on their own

I don’t understand, why do I stress a man
When there’s so many bigger things at hand
We could’ve never had it all, we had to hit a wall
So this is inevitable withdrawal

Even if I stop wanting you, and perspective pushes true
I’ll be some next man’s other woman soon
I cannot play myself again, I should just be my own best friend
Not fuck myself in the head with stupid men

He walks away, the sun goes down
He takes the day but I’m gone
And in your way in this blue shade
My tears dry on their own

So we are history, your shadow covers me
The sky above, a blaze

He walks away, the sun goes down
He takes the day but I’m gone
And in your way in this blue shade
My tears dry on their own

I wish I could say no regrets and no emotional debt
'Cause as we kiss goodbye the sun sets
So we are history, the shadow covers me
The sky above, a blaze that only lovers see

He walks away, the sun goes down
He takes the day but I’m gone
And in your way in this blue shade
My tears dry on their own

He walks away, the sun goes down
He takes the day but I’m gone
And in your way in this blue shade
My tears dry on their own

He walks away the sun goes down
He takes the day but I’m gone
And in your way my deep shade
My tears dry

(via kelsium)

brightwalldarkroom:

"There are a handful of shows I ask everyone I talk to about television if they have seen: The Wire, Mad Men, Friday Night Lights. But when I ask them if they’ve watched and loved Friday Night Lights, what I mean is are you my kind of person? Are you all heart? Are you bothered by this 21st-century lack of earnestness, our abundance of irony? Do you wonder how we forgive and coach ourselves to do better? How we can strive again for valor and loyalty and daring and redemption? 

I fear we are defaulting to needless negativity as some kind of social currency. But Friday Night Lights is the most earnest show I’ve ever watched. Not sentimental, however: these characters aren’t perfect. In fact, this show is incredibly astute at allowing humans to have stratums of complexity: to have character and occasionally act without it, and then to live in the mire of their own dumb choices. Do I adore Coach? Yes. Do I think, as Tammy says, he is a molder of men and a husband of fierce devotion? Absolutely. Do I also think he can also be a self-involved, sexist prick who values his career over his wife’s? No question.

Regardless of the scale of the battle, the stakes in Friday Night Lights are rarely phony or contrived. It’s about winning games, sure, but its scope far exceeds that. This is a show that tests and reflects commitment not just on the football field, but back in the locker room. And in Street’s rehab room, and Saracen’s grandmother’s living room, and Julie’s bedroom, and eventually out to Luke’s farm and Tim’s prison and Tammy’s dream in Philadelphia. This commitment is not about obligation, but something more sacred. Duty. The hidden gale that blusters and grows within us and makes us yearn to give someone else exactly what they need.”

—Erica Cantoni on Friday Night Lights (Bright Wall/Dark Room, Issue #14, July 2014)

(via apsies)

Y’all I just watched this three times because it is good.

Also I just went from pretty hungry to very very hungry.