| Catie's dream. |
[Mar. 25th, 2006|09:28 pm] |
Since she refuses to post in her own journal, i have to tell you Buffy TVS people about her dream she had last night.
The Trio was commissioned to make their own game of Trivial Persuit just about them. That's right, folks, a Special Edition Trivial Persuit just about Buffy and her 6th season nemisis. The Nerds were gathered around a table chatting it up about how super excited they were that they, yes them, were getting there own Trivial Persuit Special Edition. That doesn't happen to just anyone, you know. |
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| Help? I need Jewel. |
[Mar. 23rd, 2006|10:42 pm] |
| [ | music |
| | bad version of foolish games | ] |
Does anyone have a copy of the radio version of Foolish Games by Jewel. You know, the good one, not the mushy one. I downloaded the album version off itunes, but it's not what I wanted. Can I have it, please?
Also, wanna hear a funny story? Catie and I were brushing our teeth last night and talking about something pretty serious. When it came my turn to spit, I looked straight at the wall away from the sink and thwooogh, spit all my tooth paste at the wall. For no reason. hmm? |
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| Saint Patrick's Day 06. Whew. |
[Mar. 20th, 2006|08:45 pm] |
We got off to a rocky start this past Friday when stragglers from various rehearsals, schools and work found themselves barless this St. Patrick's Day, despite a careful planning arrangement. Jasmine had decided all together not to go out. Truthfully, I was a bit stranded, as Shayna will atest. When the announcement was made: "Allison. Go to B Bar Now," I knew what to do. I went to bbar. That was easy. And thus began the night.
We started off simple with the everlasting flashes of a billion cameras. For no reason, really. And I was totally suckered in. I whipped out my...camera... and joined in. Some evidence of the assult by camera flash:
All small talk aside, it was time to move on. We miraculously left b bar planning to go our seperate ways, but ended up a little later in the night-- it's like 1am now At Least --at Social. As we walked into the bar, we could tell something weird was up. It was even more evident after monika, off-duty-bartender extrodinare, ordered our drinks, passing them back to us through a barrage of rather unfortunatly tall firefighters and other men invarious state of uniform or tuxedo. Strange. And looking into the cups from which we were about to drink provided little consolation. One drink was orange. A whole cup. Just orange. We each took a sniff, but still no guess.as to what kind of drink it was. For a moment we even doubted monika's ability to order drinks. Why the hell did she order us orange soda?
After much more pondering, and even tasting, we figure out that it was, in fact, My Drink. It was cider. Whew. When another very curious thing happens.
No, no not that. We are all used to that by now.
The bar goes almost silent, and a feeling that the moments are passing in slow motion sifted over the room. A man with curly black hair bounds out from the back of the bar flying through the room, reaching his target and placing his hands firmly around another patron's neck. Not a word was spoken. A bouncer breaks it up, they move away from each other and Game On, the bar noise seems to turn back on. Social is a weird place.
While we were there, this dude kept holding his camera up in the air and taking pictures of our group. Heather and Jas said this:
Catie said, "Take another fucking picture..." and held her beer over his head. "Asshole."
So then we left there.
Our next adventure brings us to the streets of midtown where we were approached by a man, who apparently was offering to sell us some cocaine. In front of two police men. Not the smartest cookie? I hear jas yell, "Allison, he said we can taste his coke" jokingly. I turn around. Monika informs the guy that we are indeed, not tourists. Dude runs for his life around the corner. We mock him.
Someone decided that we needed to arrive at the next bar in style. It was now about 2:30 am. Before I know it, the sidewalk is overtaken by 4 people yelling "5-6-7-8" followed by the longest running leap combination i have ever heard. I should type it out for you. I can. But I don't know how to put accents on letters in the computer. so it looks like this: chase. chase. run run leap. Not exactly how it sounds when it happened for real, huh ladies? Hey! how come the people actually involved in these stories don't comment? Shy? I thought so! ANYWAYS. Monika learns the combo. A street vendor learned it. Catie said No Way. We arrive at Playwrite. Apparently it is somewhere in Times Square, but at this point, i have no idea where. The night winds down slowly over the next...3...hours. I will leave you with this story. Learn from it.
Heather took a quick nap on the table, placing her head in her hands and closing her eyes. A good clump of hair had fallen rather precisly into a drink. A very red drink. Catie reached over and with the tips of her fingers attempted to extract the strands out of the cup. Heather's head pops up. "DON'T. EVER." Catie throws her hands up. Hair falls back in drink. Heather goes back to sleep.
Happy St. Patricks Day!
On an unrealated note-- LJ, do you want to teach me how to do an LJ cut again soon? It would probaly be appreciated. Or if someone wants to tell me how to text wrap. More lobsters coming up. See you soon, macaroons. love, me |
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| Every Single One Of Us, the Devil Inside or Lobster Night: The Return of the Shredder |
[Mar. 16th, 2006|09:20 pm] |
Every Wednesday for the past month, we've had a little something special to look forward to. We, infact, don't just look forward to it, we obsess over it. Hump day has never been quite so bright as it now shines.
Lobster Night
by Allison Hayn
Each of the past 3 or 4 Wednesdays, Jasmine gathers a small group of us at Joshua Tree for a spectacle of great proportion: $12.95 lobster dinner. An Entire lobster, baked potato and corn on the cob, served by the lovely chief-of-bar Monika. The eating portion of the evening is always very serious and thorough. Each person has their own method, technique if you will, for devouring their crustacean.
After the feast, the artwork creation begins. A crustacean creation, if you will. In our curious studies of the lobster shell, we have begun to understand the limitations of the lobster. Things it can do: Balance on draft beer tubing.
Top hat wearing dancing lobster:
Many others. Use your imagination!
[insert: name this quote "If my heart could beat it would break my chest, but i can't see your unimpressed" who will be the first?... i have a guess]
Shayna started a new tradition this lobster night when she came to the table (well, the bar) with a very important piece of knowledge: For lobsters to be one pound, they are usually more than 7 years old.
And thus begins the lobster trivia element of the evening. From now on, the members of lobster night must bring a fact, previously unknown, concerning lobsters and their lifestyle. One rule: I have been banned from dissection. Sandi, however, has apparently not. She got too drunk and hungry and ate the bad lobster parts. Maybe the brain. God, it was funny. She grabbed the unshelled body of the lobster when she thought we weren't looking. Then yanked her hand back when we turned around.
Lobster night usually includes a good bit of serious talk. This time was no exception. There was also a good bit of not-so-serious talk. Rabbits (of many varieties), waxing by julie, the proper execution of many dance steps (while being taught to irish bystanders), the correct wording of bananas song as well as many other completely illogical and irreverent topics peaked an evening of many laughs. The carrying on continued until about 1 in the morning when I announced I was still hungry. ANOTHER lobster was served. Apparently the largest lobster that Joshua Tree had ever served. It didn't last long, everyone decided that the thing they wanted most was that lobster.
Stephen joined us for a past lobster night, and we should have taken pictures that night. He danced. We danced. On chairs. Also worth noting, we got a wonderful during dole show call from miss melo which made us very, very happy. And a sweet wish-you-were-here message. Thanks guys! Miss you. Rock on.
Too bad all I have to look forward to now is St. Patrick's Day celebrating. Couldn't possibly compare to Lobster Night.
[insert clue two: I can bring whole cities to ruin/ and still have time to get a soft shoe in] |
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| A really bad thing happened: Hair Catastrophe '06 |
[Mar. 14th, 2006|09:28 pm] |
Well, at least in my book, it was a really bad thing.
I was diffusing my hair this morning (this is sounding so far like a very valley girl type story)and all of a sudden, the diffuser flew off the top of the dryer and clattered onto our bathroom floor. I wasn't worried. I picked it up. I noticed a chunk of blond hair fused together by a singed black ball. I found others. Now Worried. Really worried. Then I started picking through my not-quite-dry tenative hair waves. Some were whole curls. Some were curls cut off about half way with a singed black mess. I was now polka-dotted. My hair felt upset. It was falling out.
The initial clumps didn't panic me. If it was my teeth, I would have feared the impending nightmares. This was just hair, and I don't really pay it much attention. I wash it sometimes. I dry it. And today, I fried it.
It was when I got to work and I was still losing now more copious handfuls of limited remaining strands that I freaked. I told Pam, she sounded sympathetic but didn't offer any immediate solutions. I told april and she told me my hair smelled like Fructis. Which is a good thing. Then I got super self-concious about telling everyone on earth that my hair was falling out in a burnt-type fashion.
I shut up about it. I put my hair away and tried to push the fiasco out of my mind. Until now when I tell everyone I care about. AND I EXPECT SYMPATHY. AND RELATED EMBARASSING STORIES. Love you, pickadillies!
PS Nick and Laura Jane and Silver Bells, I listened to your myspace musics and catie and i really enjoyed them. So, So Much. Charleston must be great, and we wish we were there with you being silly all the time!! I need to pick a new myspace song... can I pick one of y'all's? |
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| HFAGS |
[Mar. 12th, 2006|11:13 am] |
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Hah! I just put malt liqour on my myspace profile and i miss them. someone put in a good word for us that they should head up here. When I was in Athens, they played up here... oh well. Catie calls Claire Clizzy. she misses her clizzy. for rizzle. Good morning, peanuts! |
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| J, LC |
[Mar. 7th, 2006|06:10 pm] |
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Today during what ever class was happening outside my door, the teacher played cathedrals. I shouldn't get so excited. It was maybe the song i thought I never wanted to hear again. I was wrong. |
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| Movie Night |
[Mar. 7th, 2006|12:52 am] |
Watched RENT. Cried a lot. Much more than in the theater. People were so awful there, they ruined it. But it was pretty wonderful. I need to buy Love Actually.
I need to tell you this story about accidently throwing a tissue in catie's water while she was asleep. She didn't end up drinking the water. But it reminded me first of a day 3 years ago when catie challenged herself to a toilet paper eating contest. She started slowly stuffing the loose end of the paper into her mouth and chomping much in the way a brontosaurus would. Methodically. Moistening the paper so it would shrink down to make room for more. I really think she fit a third of that roll in her mouth. Even better? When she spit it back out... |
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| Home for the Holidays |
[Nov. 24th, 2005|11:06 pm] |
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Just wanted to say a quick hello from Hayn Headquarters here in lovely Grayson, GA. Hope our thanksgiving was excellent. I ate dinner, took a long nap and went to go see HP4 for the second time with my momma and ryan. All's well, and it smells like Christmas. BTW, i freaking love whoever is Leonardo on opium. |
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| In other news |
[Oct. 12th, 2005|12:39 am] |
I saw someone slip on a banana peel in the subway today. For real.
Do I need to tell Eddie Izzard? He should know.
That was only slightly stranger than seeing EVERY SINGLE UMBRELLA being held during a rain turn inside out with a gust of wind. and then everyone grimace and throw their umbrella in the trash- with a zillion other umbrellas that were already there. |
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| Jealous (like the Huffs used to say) |
[Oct. 11th, 2005|08:27 pm] |
Catie's was MUCH more interesting...
The Perfect Life
Your life has been 4% difficult. |
Based on your family, money, political context, and personal situation
-- during the important years of your development -- it appears your
life was PERFECT. What does this mean?
Well, the "difficulty" of your life is a measure of how rough you had
it. Relative to the world, you had a perfect childhood, with a pretty
stable family and financial situation.
I'm not sure what "success" means to you, but whatever it is, you should achieve it. If you don't, it's probably out of laziness.
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My test tracked 1 variable How you compared to other people your age and gender: | You scored higher than 0% on difficult |
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| Prices in NYC |
[Sep. 6th, 2005|06:56 pm] |
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Ramen is 3 for a dollar! What the hell?! |
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| (no subject) |
[Sep. 5th, 2005|01:16 pm] |
1) I just ate my first bowl of honeycombs.
2)Don't you dare judge me, all of you know that at heart, I'm just a j,lc fan club kid. I wanted to make it funny, but I failed, so i decided that if it wasn't going to get read, i would just make it mushy.
My Favorite Jump Story Essay
By Allison J. Hayn
Between the night of the life jacket wearing midget stripper, the evening where Naked Dave was born and the moment Matt Bivins joyfully jumped in my pants, a favorite story was hard to pick. I think this is mine.
In November of 2001, the “Underground Elite” ran a contest for the best promoter to the Vertigo Album release tour. The ultimate prize? Your own personal concert by J,LC in the place of your residence. I definitely entered. We planned and promoted like good little girls do, because Jump is, after all, the greatest band on earth. We graffiti-ed vehicles in announcement of the shows, planned carpools, and postered our hearts out. But it turns out this was a “Who is the geekiest?” contest. To present our endeavors, we decided to add a special flourish. I was shameless. A PowerPoint presentation, animation and all, was our masterpiece, all in tentative hope that our favorite band would pay us a visit.
So, I lived in a dorm, and finals were coming fast. When we received the email that yes indeed Jump, Little Children would play Myers Hall, we first ran in circles and screamed. Then we had to figure out how to get permission for them to play during finals.
On December 11, “Reading Day” at the University of Georgia, the boy’s hall’s resident advisor gave permission for us to have a somewhat private concert in their study lounge. The J,LC Park n’ Fly pulled into the parking lot. Even teased us about having to carry his drum kit up four flights of stairs. Girls walked past the door staring in disbelief. “Is that Jump, Little Children?” one asked. I closed the door. Just kidding.
For some reason, I expected a cop-out show, but it was the most fun I may have ever had. Maybe 15 of us in the room that we had decorated with Christmas lights got time off from finals to watch our absolute favorite songs performed just for us while we lounged in bean bag chairs. “Quiet” for Dave. “Because of You” for me. “Ordinary Girl” for Angel. “Hymn,” the world premier of “All around the world” sung by Evan, the beatnik poet version of “Lannigin’s Ball” by Matt, Ward singing Tenacious D’s “Tribute,” Johnny’s silly gravedigger song while Jay played bass, and Evan and Ward’s impromptu song about Dave’s pants. I was in heaven. I cringe listening to the recording because of how my completely ecstatic laughter seems to interrupt the songs.
What kind of band, with busy schedules and budding families, plays a show for free, for kids and still acts like they are having an okay time? As musicians, they make the ultimate sacrifice giving themselves to the audience, and as performers, they are selfless. Without their talent for giving, my favorite songs that mark some of my most special memories would go unwritten, brilliant, inspirational lyrics would go unsung, many amazing musicians would not still be performing and my group of closest friends would be stranded in far away states across the country. So, I thank J,LC for no less than my taste in music, my most cherished friends and my sense of adventure: For a part of who I ended up being. And, for me, the future of Jump, Little Children has become irrelevant. Paths have already been set, lives have already been changed and people are already a little bit better because you touched their lives. |
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| hi out there |
[Sep. 4th, 2005|11:57 pm] |
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I hate it when Lindsay Jean is asleep. That's all. I wrote my jump essay. It's mushy. |
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| Lindsay Logic |
[Aug. 22nd, 2005|03:42 pm] |
Widescreen versus TV screen:
"Think of it this way," Lindsay says. She holds up a birthday card with a nearly naked man horizontally. "This is the movie screen." She puts her hands over the two ends of his body. "This is the tv screen. Your missing the penis." |
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| my little-ittle brother |
[Aug. 14th, 2005|01:39 pm] |
Late at night Ryan went to get a glass of water. I took a chomp of his pizza I had been eyeing for the past 5 mintues. "Stupid Whore!" Catie raises her eyebrows. Ryan hastily explains, "I call everyone whore. Except mike, he's not a whore yet." I tell him, "I only took a little bite." "Then you're only a little whore." We question his current choice of name calling. "Well I can't say gay. That's not polically correct." We laugh and ask, "Whore is?" He tells us, "Well, prosititution is illegal in the state of georgia." We laugh, "Sometimes, so is being gay..." I remember crystal's story about her small tennessee town:)
My parents always think ryan is so funny when he pulls out some sort of foul language. He NEVER EVER says bad words, so i think he does it for shock value:) Last christmas, we sat down for fancy dinner and ryan walked over to turn off the soccer game he was watching. The other team scored. "Bastards!" he swore. My family thought that was the funniest thing they had ever heard. |
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| Sunshowers: Abnormal or not? |
[Aug. 11th, 2005|06:20 pm] |
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This is the third time recently that it has been blazingly sunny outside while monsoon amounts of rain are pouring down. It's so bizarre. Like heavy, hurricane sized drops. No rainbow yet. And its the immediatly-turn-into-extra-humidity kinda rain storm. How strange. You want to hear a little story? I used to make an hour long treck to and from a job in atlanta while living in athens. For a couple months, everytime it would sunshower, I was playing J,LC. A couple times in a row it was buzz. And, no, I was not listening to the album on repeat:)It was moving for rain to pour and rainbows to appear and have a little mood music playing in the background. I enjoyed those drives, rain or not. |
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| Southern Living |
[Aug. 11th, 2005|11:24 am] |
It's really nice being home. I just did something I was banned from for some time-- get ready using my mother's hair dryer, hair products, makeup, etc... In highschool I was using up all of her stuff so I was only supposed to play in her bathroom if it was prom or something and she was feeling giving. Being home is really comforting, especially for reasons like playing in mom's makeup. I think I look even more like her when I've stolen her beauty secrets. Mom doesn't run out of things. Except I don't think she wears eyeliner now. It was wonderful.
There are other comforting things about being home. This morning there were pancakes, vitimins, coffee and bacon left out with notes like "Take Me!" (a vitmain for catie too, of course) and brownies on the counter to take with our lunches. Even sitting at my brother's computer-- where our shared computer used to be is nice, but somehow I still get anxious when I walk up to it wondering what highschool allison may have said, who's going to be online and what blossoming romances I'm going ruin by typing the wrong thing. I have so many emails and conversations printed out as landmarks of my highschool career of boys that I can't even bear to read because they are so honest. We tried so hard back then, didn't we? It's a good thing communication is easier now. And I'm allowed to stay up and play on the internet as late as I like.
I like wakeing up to it being light outside, i'd missed that at the loft. I like coming home to a clean house and having my brother around keeping me up late. He set up catie's computer so that she can have internet in the same room as his computer. I like being forced to watch anime even though I havn't had to yet, its coming! I like how my mom still tracks her weight on the bathroom wall. I like how our bathroom is decorated like a beachhouse. And I like how cally still seems to run around the house making noises through the night and leaving hairs and pup smells all over the house even though she's been gone for a year. It's really nice being home. |
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| Not the Smartest Cookie |
[Aug. 10th, 2005|10:34 am] |
Last night I was wound up and needed to read something--ANYTHING--to start to sleep. Catie just finished HP6 again and is only speaking in phrases like, after giving me some chapstick, "You apply chapstick to your nallie many times a day. I learned this in Care of Magical Creatures!" Did you know I was a 1)Nallie and b) (miss you abie!) A Magical Creature?
So, GET TO THE POINT!, I raided my room and my brother's room for something comforting to read. Found multiple copies of Ms. Durden AP English books--why didn't he just borrow mine?-- and nothing to read. Until I reached the very top of Ry's book shelf. In between the plush snakes and books from our early childhood about butterflies and identifyin spiders, I found Charlotte's Web. I picked that one. If it wasn't already a movie, I would make one right now. |
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| Chicago: the boring and misspelled version |
[Aug. 9th, 2005|11:15 pm] |
Lindsay Jean greeted me in the airport with a sign that said both "HOT ALLISON" and "Lindsay Jean's cheauffer service." Then she proceeded to point at me and then at the sign while notioning to the general public that this was indeed the person whom the sign announced. I poked her several times. That's just embarassing!
We went immediatly to Orange with Kelly (Kammi), Amy and Jean. I had Chia Tea French Toast and showed Lindsay and Kelly my bruise. It was the greatest bruise I've ever had. It was completely dark purple and the size of an apple or small grapefruit. I have no idea where it came from, but I loved it. If I see you in chas on my birthday, I can show you it's remains. Its on my bum and still pretty impressive. Orange coffee is terrific.
My special greeting committee walked me to my hotel and into my room. I changed for the Giordano company and scholarship audition (insert: While on the topic of my new new york job, my 20-year-old little brother just informed me that I could waitress, but if i became a stripper he would be mad. But he would forgive me. If I became a prostitute, then we would have real trouble. back to audition talk) and my crew walked me back down to registration. I felt like a little one going off to camp. Lindsay Jean met my mama who randomly was in Chicago for the day on business and came to the hotel just in time to pay for my audition picture and smooch me.
This was the best audition that I have ever had. Why? I didn't get cut! Not even once! Granted, I didn't get the scholarship, but I didn't want it, and I couldn't go. Here's how it went: Ballet combination-really great combo, a lot of turns and an ending balance that I did really well, and it fit the music well and was easy to count. Auditions never go like this. The fun part was when they announced the numbers of the people they were keeping and all 3 dancefxers got kept. That made my day. Then they taught the jazz combo. NOT a piece of cake. It was fast and akward and didn't have very much personality. They cut half the class after that. But not me! I got to stay and learn the most wonderful, breathy modern combo to amazing music. It was such a treat. Granted, after that we had to do 4 8-counts improv alone in front of the judges. (insert again: there is a giant harmonica on the floor of my parents den. why?) Anyways, scholarship or not, I love being the confident, put together dancer who gets to stay rather than the brain fried nut case that I usually am. Being old is grand.
Jazz Dance World Congress was pretty intense, and I had such a great time hanging out with the company, they are such wonderful, supportive, positive people. When we performed and didn't win, I was the one bitching the most. LJ came to the performance and dutifully told us we were by far the best. That feels so good to hear, thank you! It was such an amazing stage to perform on- the best lights we've ever had, huge beautiful stage, huge theater, it was a religious experience--- and most of the theater is underground--i have a rather violent obession with theaters. Maybe one day I will own one:) Linday Jean took some great pictures here.
Sunday, Lindsay Jean, Nathan and I ate again at Orange and that was tasty and wonderful. Then we went to the dog beach! I didn't know such a wonderful place existed. There were dogs and dogs swiming and running and playing and catching balls and then we accosted them. We got our picture with other people's dogs. Lindsay said she felt like a dog molester. We used people for their dogs. At some point in that day, Nathan was a good sport and waltzed me in public down the street. That's something I daydream about.
Then we took Nathan to the airport and headed to Lindsay Jean's house. We had dinner with some of her family and I met many of the infamous members including Grandma and Angela. We went back and chatted until Tracy came over so we could go to TINY LOUNGE and drink martinis! They were so so tasty. I heard some crazy stories.
Monday we went BACK TO ORANGE (and it was wonderful again) to caffinate me. Thank you. We shopped for stripper clothes. We went to the Toulous-Lautrec exhibit and it may be one of the best exhibits I've ever seen. They did a really good job of incorporating maps, stories and video into the program. I was inspired. Then Linday Jean got the Whos-down-in-who-ville song stuck in my head. We saw the Grinch in a painting!
That is the play-by-play general version. I'll tell you the funny things as i sort them into memories rather than the brain blob they are right now. There are some gems in there, don't worry. But I had to get this out first. So that when I'm 50 and forgot which year I met Lindsay Jean, I can go to my Livejournal, which will still exist, and check it out using my factual commentary. Good night bumble bees! |
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