Is it too much?

I have a question for you, peasants.

If you could name your very own kingdom, what would you name it? The Kingdom of Napouusdsjhkfjsad? Magaliland? Narnia?

The fictional kingdom of Burgundia is the setting for one of Philly Fringe’s most unique plays, happening now at the Walnut Street Theatre Studio 5. The Idiopathic Ridiculopathy Consortium (which is a thing that exists, apparently), is putting on a performance of “Ivona, Princess of Burgundia”, and after bumping on an advert for the show on Philly Fun Guide I knew I had to get my tickets immediately:

The kingdom of Burgundia has gone gaga (and not a good gaga) over Prince Philip’s announcement that he’ll wed a socially awkward commoner in Polish novelist and playwright Witold Gombrowicz’s delightfully wicked fairy tale, Ivona, Princess of Burgundia.  Chaos and confusion spread throughout the land, and mayhem and comedy ensue as the royal court faces their demons in a world where appearance and self-importance reign in this provocative and tragicomic parable.

Here’s what I’m thinking:

1.Socially awkward princess?

2. People making fun of somebody’s outwardly appearance?

3. Keeping Up With The Kardashians-esque absurdity?

IT’S LIKE IT’S THE STORY OF MY LIFE BROUGHT TO THE STAGE.

Minus the marriage part.

Some of you may have be aware that the Philly Fringe Festival has been under way for a few days now. But with a festival lineup of more than 50 shows taking place all over the city, it can be pretty daunting for someone of such high standards (read: little patience for reading through 50 pages brochures of showtimes) to find a hidden gem to spend their sole $20 bill on. Plus, I don’t want to mingle with just any plebeians. They tend to smell quite common.

Here are three reasons why I’m super excited to check this out:

1. I’m obsessed with fairytales. You should have seen me when “Snow White and The Huntsman” came out- I even sat through two hours of Kristen Stewart’s acting. That’s dedication for you. Combine that with Marie-Antoinette esque period costumes and some good ol’ fashioned Love Conquers All storylines, and you’ve piqued my interest.

2.Speaking of, the costumes  looks hilarious. I mean, look at this and tell me you’re not in the least curious about how it works:

Somebody call Tim Gunn- these royals know how to make it work (What am I even saying right now I sound like CosmoGirl! Magazine).

3. The plot itself looks like something straight from one of Moliere’s plays (Oh, and if you haven’t seen the movie, I strongly recommend you do). A clever mix of absurd comedy with some serious issues about beauty and what it all means to each of us bring about a cool kind of fairytale that’s much more complex than anything Disney’s cooked up lately.

4. With a $5 off student discount on $20 tickets, you can actually afford to see it live!

Bottom line- if you’re gonna check out any Fringe play, make sure it’s this one. Performances have been running since September 5th, and the curtain closes for the last time Sunday, September 23rd. I’ll be going to the Saturday showing, so if you happen to recognize my cutting wit and miniscule height, come say hi! I promise I’ll only be mildly freaked out.

Yours Truly,

Queen Magali

Surprisingly enough, this is not the worst I’ve ever looked

Hallelluhah, let the village rejoice, praise Jesus, Mohammad, Meryl Streep, and any other higher powers you’re privy to. I’m back to posting, peasants!

Now, it’s a brand new year and some things have changed. Instead of launching on a wordy paragraph about my latest existentialist exploits, I have outlined them all out for you in as clear and concise terms as I can muster after writing a paper on Puritans in the New England colonies (not recommended). Here are some things that are changing from last year:

Actual Walking Personal Hero Mia Thermopolis

1. I have, due to some and what others might call maturity, gained an incredibly unexpected swelling of self-esteem. Basically, I’ve realized how valuable I am to society and the world in general. I think it’s called self-actualization or something (how Mia Thermopolis of me!).  Therefore, please do not get offended if I start referring to you, my loyal readers, by the endearing term “peasants”. Likewise, I might call myself the queen. Don’t worry about it.

2.  My insanely stressful schedule might only allow me to ramble about my life online once every few weeks. I’m going to do my best to post weekly, but we’ll see how it does. I promise to do at least one blog post a month, though, so please don’t do anything drastic, like protest outside the GenEd offices, or bring a gun to The Dark Knight Rises.

Too soon?

3. As a cause of said stressful schedule, whenever I do post, please do not be alarmed if I continually TYPE IN ALL CAPS LIKE SOME KIND OF DERANGED ONE DIRECTION FANGIRL IT’S JUST THE WAY I GET WHEN MY LIFE IS IN CHAOS… I’M IN REHAB IT’S A 5-STEP PROCESS OKAY.

THAT SAID I THINK I’LL FINISH THIS INTRODUCTORY POST WITH THE FOLLOWING INSPIRING WORDS:

“SHAKJDHFAKDGFAJDSHFAIEIQWGLEHDSAJKSQUGDYAGFWJSDFKJHADGJFH!!1!!!SJDFKASDFKJH”

-QUEEN MAGALI ROMAN

Repeat this as many times as necessary over the next 10 days and breathe.

I’m not exactly the best source of advice when it comes to studying for finals. Studying for anything is not really my strong suit, unless you count that time in middle school when the theater class was doing a trip to the Statue of Liberty and I memorized the entire Emma Lazarous poem in the hopes of impressing one of my male classmates (I failed miserably, thank God. He has not aged well.). I am not ashamed to admit that finals week teaches me more about hustlin’ than any ROTC or Rick Ross song ever could. That being said, I do have a redeeming quality. I am a master of procrastinating relaxing through the most terrifying time of the year. And trust me, when the only thing standing between you and pre-bio final psychopathy, you will need my gospel.
So, from one underachiever to another, here’s my ultimate prone-to-failure-and-not-entirely-healthy Guide to Surviving Death Week.

1. Caffeine
I don’t like coffee, but I don’t like finals either. And the truth is, you’ve got to band with the lesser of evils here. This point does not restrict itself to coffee specifically- caffeine can be in everything from Coca-Cola to tea, to certain illegal substances (we jest, WE JEST! DON’T DO IT! YOU HAVE SO MUCH TO LIVE FOR!). If you’re going to stay awake, might as well have it be for a good cause. Don’t worry about screwing up your entire brain with the extra sugar and unhealthy stuff, we know you’ll make up for it by doing extra rounds at the Center City Trader Joe’s. Yeah.

That being said…

2. Nap. A lot.
I don’t know what it is about me but for some reason I seem to wait until the last possible moment at night (usually by 2 a.m.) to go to bed, then wake up at 9 a.m. every morning and wonder why I can barely drag myself out of bed to shut off my alarm (“Snoop D.O. Double G” by Snoop Dogg, if you must know. It’s the only song terrifying enough to get me out of bed). But the thing is, you need sleep. You do. Even half an hour of rest will give you more energy to tackle that 15 page studyguide better than that extra cup of coffee I suggested you take earlier in the article. See what I’m doing? I’m so tired I can’t even remember what I wrote earlier in the blog post! That’s exhaustive journalistic research for you!

If it's good enough for the Brobama, it's good enough for you.

3. Put on Some Mood Music
For the actual studying part, I’ve found music actually helps me concentrate a lot more than if I just stare at Microsoft Word. There’s something a little disconcerting about trying to remember the details of Franz Ferdinand’s assassination at 3 a.m. with nothing but dead silence around you. Pull up Grooveshark and plug yourself into the zone. I’ve found that instrumental soundtracks like The Social Network, Pride and Prejudice, and The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo work exceedingly well.

Don't turn into a bad episode of "Moody's Point". And by that we mean please do.

3. Take a Break or Else you May Actually Scare People With Your Obsessive-Studying-Bordering-On-Sociopathy
Otherwise known as my favorite hobby in the world, unwinding is amazing. I do this even when it’s not finals week. I do this when in school, and I do this when at home. Dare I say it…I even do this during the summer. I know. I sicken myself. Even though you might find yourself swamped with Italian verb charts, try to find some time to take a walk, or read a magazine, or watch an episode of Miranda. If you structure in regular free time instead of straight-up working for the entire day (aka Facebooking every five minutes), it will be easier for you to concentrate during the times your body knows to work. Staring at a computer screen for 6 hours never helped anyone (except maybe Mark Zuckerberg but that’s another story entirely).

Actually while we’re at it…

4. Watch this video
It will automatically make all your problems disappear. And you can quote me on that.

This is the life that awaits you so long as you manage to overcome this week, o valiant knight of righteousness.

5. Keep it in perspective.
Visualize yourself acing this thing. Imagine… you wake up in the morning feeling like Kanye West (because, let’s admit it, P. Diddy’s twitter account isn’t nearly that excellent). You grab a homemade muffin off a polka-dot buiscuit tin and wear sneakers to show off that you’ve powerwalked to class. When you get there, the door opens with an explosion and when the air clears, it’s you, doing a pose in the doorway because you’re self-confident and that makes people do strange things for some reason. You’re walking up to your seat, Starbucks coffee in hand, but it’s filled to the brim because you don’t even need caffeine to get you through the day anymore. You have 5 number 2 pencils, just in case. The hot T.A. actually notices you for once. You are no longer yourself. The old you is no more: the new you has risen from the ashes, and it is beautiful. You are beautiful. You. Are. Ryan. Gosling.

And finally…

6. Don’t sweat it.
Literally speaking, please remember to shower- it’s bad enough showing up to an 8 a.m. exam without having to plug your nose because everybody was so nervous they forgot to follow basic rules of hygene. Figuratively speaking, try to remember that this is only one exam. Hopefully some of the classwork you did throughout the year will help pad the horrendous F you’re not going to get. And even if you drop out of college because you failed every single one of your courses and are chin-deep in student debt and can’t find a job and your parents throw you out and the Pope excommunicates you, you can always lead a good life. As exemplified by Mr. Alan Moore, below.

Livin' the dream

Get out.

If you know me at all, you know that while I appreciate and respect truly innovative and creative and overall GOOD music, my reasons for listening to certain artists can sometimes be quite shallow. As in “OHMYGODHEISSOATTRACTIVEUNFLOOKATHISFACEANDHISHAIRIDONTKNOWWHO
YOUAREDONTKNOWWHEREYOU’REFROMBUTDAYUMBOYYOUISFINEIBETYOURMUSIC
ISFINETOOLETSGIVEITALISTENEVENIFIT’SBADIWILLSTILLLIKEYOUBECAUSE
ICANNOTHANDLEYOURFACE” shallow.

To my credit, bands with attractive members usually do end up being really talented. Unless you’re talking about One Direction- there’s all sorts of catastrophes going on there that I will not even get into right now.

Case in point, going into the Alumni Concert for John Legend, I did not have entirely pure intentions. And can you blame me? Ever since stumbling upon the video for the appropriately titled Estelle song “Let’s Fall In Love”, and hearing his sudden, strident verse smack in the middle of a song about falling in love (clearly it was a sign), it was basically all I could do not to throw my computer out the window and just lay down on the floor, facedown, crying.

I am not even exaggerating this, I literally had it on loop in my iPod for about 68 hours straight. Patheticness Scale- 50/ Magali's Dignity- 0.

But hey, if it leads me to good music, does it reeeeally matter what sign pointed me in the right direction? It’s all about the journey, after all! Isn’t that what Ghandi was always saying?

Or was it Lance Armstrong?

ANYWAY. The point is, being fully aware of every aspect of John Legend save his music (well, not really. I do know “Wake Up Everybody”. I’m not stupid, you know…), I couldn’t wait to see whether I was the only pathetic girl in the audience who scrambled to get a ticket on her hands the minute Temple announced its Alumni Weekend headliner.

I’ll going to go ahead and spoil it for you right now: I wasn’t. Not even close.

After a short opening act by Maryland rapper Dunson, the lights dropped, a spotlight appeared out of nowhere and focused on a lone man wearing all black standing smack in the middle of the audience in the floor seating area.

For a moment it was like everyone was slightly offended that this punk got a spotlight when some of us barely got a pretzel at the concession stand, and then it hit us… the punk was John Legend! In the flesh! In the middle of the audience! At his own concert! He was literally a spectator in his own performance!

I mean can you say #YOLO or…

I think it was right around then that everybody’s dignity decided to take a few hours off and there was enough screaming to put the entire Twiligt fandom to shame. It was fully ridiculous, to the point where my seat neighbors started having what any certified psychiatrist would define as “An Experience”- mainly, clutching at their hair and shouting. It didn’t exactly help that once he finished serenading the audience literally face-to-face, he sauntered over to the stage and began the show with as much ease and confidence as only somebody with 9 Grammy wins under his belt could pull off.

I don’t usually use the word “swagger” unless I’m making fun of my father, but in this case I’ll make an exception. The entire performance just reeked of it. From his backup singers, who conveyed more sass in one synchronized dance move than I will ever have in my entire life, to the seamless transitions from swaying by the mic stand to taking the piano, Legend played it all as smoothly and naturally as if he didn’t have over a thousand people screaming “I LOVE YOU JOHN LEGEND” at regular intervals throughout the stadium. I mean, you’d have though that would have at least broken his concentration a bit. But then again he’s probably used to it.

At a certain point, he even invited a fan on stage to dance with him, and they got so frisky that right about then my seat neighbors and I went from having an Experience to having a full-on meltdown that I can only describe with the help of Golden Girl Blanche Deveraux:

To be honest I’m kinda glad it wasn’t me up there because if it had been I might have done something drastic like stare at him in awe without moving and put him in an awkward situation (like personally sending me to a mental hospital, for example). Thankfully, the girl handled it expertly and simply swayed along like it was no big deal, which to be frank is suspicious, judging from the amount of people having heart attacks simply from watching this. And when he gave her a rose at the end of their dance, everyone was basically gone.

Beyond the adventures of the Sexually Frustrated for John Legend Club, the performances given were pretty amazing. Although the sound quality was poor at times, and the speakers were angled in a way that it was tough to hear certain words, I don’t think anybody had any trouble hearing him when at one point he wailed “I DON’T WANT TO BE ALOOOOOONE TONIIIIIIIGHT”.

Honestly, it’s like he knows.

Sound quality withstanding, highlight songs included “Tonight (Best You Ever Had)”, a rousing performance of “So High” (click the link for a video of the concert!), “Wake Up Everybody”, and a closing rendition of “Green Light” in which Legend fully walked into the audience again, came back on stage, stood on top of his beloved grand piano singing, and thanked everyone for a wonderful night.

This was our only response:

Is there anything better than film festivals? I think not. Any event where large numbers of important celebrities gather to watch and present gritty, deppressing films to impress otherwise unimportant Utah residents just takes the freaking cake as far as I’m concerned. I’m no film major, but I’m a pretty avid follower of the festival circuit, or at least, the actors gracing the red carpet. I’m practically glued to the television during Awards Season, relentlessly cheering on Woody and Scorsese for their prospective prizes as passionately as if I were some kind of demented Eagles fan who actually believed the Eagles have ever stood a chance of winning anything. Who wouldn’t give anything for a golden ticket to Sundance, or Cannes, or, let’s face it, your local multiplex cinema (have you seen movie ticket prices these days?!).

Philly’s no Hollywood, and, admittedly, that’s probably a really good thing. This month, however, two very different film festivals are sweeping over Philadelphia, and we couldn’t be more excited. The topics are incredibly diverse, ranging from science documentaries to behind-the-scenes featurettes of the music industry and student films- there’s really something for everyone.

1. Science Film Fest
April 21-29
As part of the Philadelphia Science Festival taking place this upcoming week, the Science Film Fest is screening more than a dozen top science films with related lectures and programs at the IMAX theater of the Franklin Institute. “Man on a Mission” (April 21st), for example, gives a behind the scenes journey to space with one of the first civilians to make the trip, and “Pink Ribbon” (April 28th) uncovers the devastating reality of breast cancer, juxtaposing it with the shiny pink story of success it’s become. With ticket prices ranging from $10 to virtually free, it’s definitely a that won’t trim your wallet. Skip the line and buy your tickets here.

2) WXPN Music Film Festival
April 26th-29th.
Produced by Philadelphia Film Society, and sponsored by the Annenberg Center for the Performing Arts and the University of Pennsylvania among others, the WXPN Music Film Festival‘s bringing some of the best movies centered solely about music curated by the local leading authorities on both film and music. And with Record Store Day looming on the horizon (April 21st, people), it could not come at a better time. Plus, it includes a midnight screening of The Rocky Horror Picture Show on Saturday, April 28th. The festival will take place at the Annenberg Center and other theater locations throughout Philadelphia, and with only $8 per ticket with a student I.D., it costs less than seeing “The Artist” for a fifth time and packs a decidedly louder punch (Ha. Ha. Haaa. Get it? Because it’s a silent film!). Check out the lineup here and below.

Before there was Cameron, there was Hitchcock. Before IMAX, there was film stock. And before “The Artist”, there was “A Trip To The Moon”. In an age where most movie scripts could be summed up in a simple mediocre episode of Gossip Girl (Don’t leave me! I love you! No you don’t! Yes I do, let me prove it to you at the last possible minute!), perhaps the best solution to the cultural drama overload is to just silence the actors once and for all.

Ah, for the golden age of silent cinema. A time when movies were called “motion pictures”, popcorn cost two cents, and hormone-inbalanced vampires didn’t rule the ticketing office. If you managed to catch any 2012 awards season footage, you’re aware that early silent film is having a huge moment. Jean Dujardin won his Oscar for his role as silent film star George Valentin in “The Artist”, and Martin Scorsese’s beautiful “Hugo” tells the story of Georges Méliès, a retired silent film director who directed the unforgettable picture “A Trip to The Moon”. With the charming cinematography and antique production, it’s enough to make us actually wish for the days when the most sophisticated film effects involved a pulley rope and smoke machines.

Aww, come on. How can you say no to that face??

But never fear! It doesn’t have to be that way! Thanks to International House Philadelphia, a local nonprofit presenter of international arts and cultural programs, you can still immerse yourself in the magic of silent film screenings. IHP is presenting a two-part feauturette this Wednesday, April 18th at 7pm:
“A Trip to the Moon” was the first official science fiction film to hit screens in the early 1900s, and has been ranked in the top 100 most important films of all time. Thanks to one of the most technically sophisticated and expensive restorations in film history, “A Trip to the Moon” is now screening in full color. “The Extraordinary Voyage”, a documentary featuring interviews with some of contemporary cinema’s most imaginative filmmakers like Scorsese and Jean Pierre Jeunet, follows the digital restoration of the film from Méliès’ fantastical original 1902 production to its premiere at the 2011 Cannes Film Festival.

With student ticket prices averaging at a mere $7, this is one screening you definitely don’t want to miss. And with a brand new soundtrack created by Sofia Coppola favorites Air just for the occasion, who could stay away?

We'll even spare you the usual hipster hate. This album is THAT good.

Check out this clip from the beautifully hand-colored film, and hear a sampler for Air’s album here.For more information about the screening and to find out more about International House Philadelphia, and upcoming screenings, check out their official website.

Hey Philly. We need to talk.

I know that it’s really cool to pretend to not have fun these days. And hey, I get it- the hipster mentality of standing around nodding your head to live music probably looks like a cooler alternative than dancing around like an idiot and showing that you’re enjoying yourself.

But please. Let’s get serious. What’s the point of paying $25 to stand for four hours? You may as well get some exercise, and, imagine that, maybe even enjoy yourself in the process. A little electric slide never hurt anyone, right?.

Unless you’re my grandmother Yeta and it’s 2005 Bat Mitzbah season. I don’t think her hips will ever be the same after that.

Let’s back up a bit. We’ve already established that I suffer from post-depressive Beatlemania. From the floppy haircuts to the chelsea boots, the minute a rock band starts “La La La”ing, I’m hooked. Leeds natives Kaiser Chiefs are no exception. The quintet are an interesting experiment not only because they employ said catchy riffs but because they make their sound so interesting. In a sea of Fab Four impersonators they manage to keep their sound true to their Britpop genre yet throw in a couple good hardcore guitar drops to set them apart from the rest.

Basically, think of them as the punk cousins of The Beatles.

Kaiser Chiefs took over Union Transfer last Thursday, April 12th, on the Philadelphia leg of their US tour promoting their latest album, “The Future is Medieval”. After first hearing their song “Everyday I Love You Less and Less”, which pretty much sums up my feelings on everything from ex boyfriends to Glee, I was hooked, and there was no way I was going to miss this gig.

Judging from the ringing in my ears that has not eased up since last Thursday, I’m pretty sure we can all attest that the show did not disappoint. From the wildly acrobatic stage moves to the impressive setlist (a large compilation of their greatest hits, including “Ruby” and “Never Miss a Beat”), it was one of the most entertaining performances I’d ever seen. But even though the Chiefs were everything you’d want to see in a live rock show, some other parts of the experience left some things to be desired. While the band’s infectious rock and roll was enough to make half the crowd jump up and down like a Russian folk dancer, the rest of the audience failed to do more than nod their heads along to the beat and scream along to the lyrics. Unfortunately, it seemed like Philly talked the talk but utterly failed to walk the walk.

Sensing this, frontman Ricky Wilson improvised. Halfway through the show, he surprised the crowd by jumping off stage and climbing onto the side railings separating the bar from the general standing/dancing area (although in this case, it was more like the stationary area), where he openly shared the mic, encouraging everyone to scream at the top of their lungs. Freudian, but effective- the tension was released with every shout, yell, and squeal that Wilson got out of them one by one. It seemed as if even though most Philadelphians were too embarrassed about their moves, you can at least count on us to out-yell anyone in the tri-state area.

Which I guess counts for something. I mean, where would we all be without The Clash’s legendary wails that inspired over a thousand kids with newly purchased guitar picks and parents who’d rather they go into a sensible career to pick up a guitar and start a musical revolution?

So. For now you’re forgiven. But come on, y’all. Get it together in the future. I don’t like being the only one making a fool of myself on the dance floor.

If you want to know more about Kaiser Chiefs, you can check out their website here, and if you’re banging your head against your laptop keyboard for missing this gig, make sure to check Union Transfer’s website for some other awesome upcoming shows.

Also, I have excellent taste in music, so if you’re so inclined, feel free check out my favorite tracks:

1) “Kinda Girl You Are” (Off “The Future is Medieval”)
2) “Heat Dies Down” (Off “The Angry Mob)
3) “Can’t Say What I Mean” (Off “Off With Their Heads”)

I love funny people. I don’t care if you’re rude, ugly, condescending, or particularly nasty-smelling: if you’re funny, I’m into you. This has usually resulted in various social problems throughout my life- mainly, I began hanging around a group of particularly nasty-smelling people.

My favorite funny person in the entire universe (after my mother, but that doesn’t count because I don’t think she’s aware of hoe hilarious everything she does is. Which only makes everything funnier.) is comedian/actor/generally cool guy Aziz Ansari. Being a “Parks and Recreation” fan, it’s pretty hard not to love Tom Haverford, the sarcastic, underachieving government official for the city of Pawnee, Indiana, that he plays on the show. With an ego larger than the Taj Mahal, and a best friend called Jean Ralphio, Tom Haverford is the classic cocky office cad everyone should hate, but can’t because his level of swag is just that high.

Long before he was treating himself in national television, however, Aziz (I will refer to him by his first name because calling him Mr. Ansari would probably make him burst out in laughter.) was a fairly successful stand-up comedian based in Los Angeles. Going back to his what he does best, Aziz is embarking on a national tour called “Buried Alive”, which he got to test drive yesterday, March 13th, in front of a sold-out crowd of 1,500 students in Penn’s Irvine Auditorium, courtesy of the university’s SPEC-TRUM (the Social Planning and Events Committee To Represent Undergraduate Minorities) club.

The hype around this show was palpable- students began lining up outside Irvine as early as two hours in advance, taking advantage of the nice weather to picnic before the performance. And if you’ve ever seen any of his stand-up on YouTube, you will definitely understand why- from re-tellings of bizarre nights out with Kanye West to making fun of his chubby cousin Harris, it’s pretty hard not to clutch your stomach from laughter, while simultaneously nodding along to his surprisingly rateable views on the strange world we live in.

Aziz did not disappoint. He emerged to rousing applause, and launched into a set so hilarious that I am fully suing him for the laugh-line wrinkles I am most certainly going to get as a cause of my perpetual grinning. He talked about everything from ugly babies, his fear of marriage, online dating, and meeting the president (apparently, Mr. Obama behaves in the exact same way I would if I were the president of the United States- namely, joke-punching the trumpet player of The Roots and high-fiving everyone). He expressed his exasperation at bros who hang out in bars- you know, the type who wear button-downs with baseball caps, and will give you an impassioned speech about how “You could have spilled my drink and we could have had a problem,” if you accidentally push up on them on the way out. “Seriously”, he deadpanned, “Don’t you have a tattoo of a Chinese symbol you can look at for a bit to calm you down?”.

I kind of began regretting my decision not to get one of those tattoos (just kidding, mom.) after an hour of non-stop laughing- I’m pretty sure my mouth stretched beyond capacity a few times from smiling too much. The most memorable parts of the night were the times when he addressed members of the audience directly, asking them to share their experiences on everything from marriage to online dating. He even bantered back and forth with a student on the front row about his spring break trip to Jamaica. As this was a Penn student, the guy had spent his time there in a private villa.

Needless to say, he provided a lot of free material to make fun of.

If you missed out on the fun, he’s making his rounds back in Philly on June 23rd at the Merriam Theater. Tickets run up from $35, so grab them while they’re still available and bring along an extra sweatshirt- after a bit, raucous laughter gets annoying to the people around you, and may need to be muffled.

Warning: existentialist art rambling up ahead, proceed with caution.

If you know anything about me, you know that I love nothing more than a good old-fashioned weirdo. I’ve befriended them, I’ve dated them, I’ve shared classroom desks with them, I’ve even shared family tree branches with them. But no maniac ranks higher on my admiration list than Vincent Van Gogh.

I should explain. When I was seven years old, it became apparent that normal people were ingeniously boring. I just couldn’t get the appeal of beige suits, small talk, and office jobs where you do nothing but secretly check Facebook every half-hour. In my head, that sense of security came from giving up your personality, the things that make you weird and at the same time interesting. Coming from a background of sensible job-seekers like engineers and teachers, I soon became fascinated with bohemian artists and musicians; people who, yes, might not necessarily bring food to the table every night, but somehow managed to make life interesting through words, paint, or music. Artists in particular became my heroes, because as interesting as their work was, their lives were just as intriguing, because they lived passionately in order to create art. And if that passion for life sometimes drove you into questionable behavior territory? Well, then at least you’ve got an interesting story to tell at your funeral.

Aww, come on. How can you say no to this face?

Vincent Van Gogh has been my favorite painter ever since I discovered that he cut off his ear and mailed it to a prostitute. I don’t understand why he did it, I don’t see what was achieved by it, and I don’t get why that limb specifically (seriously bro, what’s wrong with a Hallmark card?). But he was forever immortalized as my number one favorite weirdo ever after, because if that was the sort of thing he did in real life, I could only imagine how far he would go in the artistic realm.

Going to the Philadelphia Art Museum with me is a pretty embarrassing experience, because I always insist on doing two things 1) visiting the Weapons ‘n Armor section, and 2) staring for ten minutes straight at the “Sunflowers” on the impressionist wing while weeping uncontrollably. So you can pretty much predict the spike in my emotional stability when I finally managed to buy a ticket to “Van Gogh Up Close”, the museum’s latest limited-time exhibit showcasing the work of my favorite ginger, specifically those produced during the tumultuous years before he took his own life. The presentation centered around a collection of rather unknown pieces with forests and trees as the main subject, almost exclusively dwells on the way Van Gogh immersed himself in nature to soothe his frantic mind. He saw nature not only as a subject on a canvas, but as a calming device, and in the later days leading to his violent suicide seemed to draw more and more on the environment to keep him going.

"Emperor Moth", 1889

The exhibit also draws on the influence of Japanese wood-block prints, which inspired not only Van Gogh but some of his other contemporaries like Degas and Gaugin. As you walk through the room, you really get a sense of the way that oriental artistic style inspired Van Gogh to focus on the details of the subjects he painted, and draw on the usage of color and techniques like pointillism to give the subject depth and dimension, making this time in his life a very important one for personal artistic development.

I loved, loved, loved “Van Gogh Up Close”. While I was initially kind of disappointed with the lack of famous paintings presented (come on, who do I have to kill to see “Starry Night” with my own eyes???), it was really interesting to discover a previously unknown period in Van Gogh’s life, and it definitely helped me understand his agitated mind further. Plus, I saw “A Pair of Boots” in person, and that, my friends, was enough to keep me going through both of my killer English midterms.

Awww yiss, working class symbols all up in hurr

With our handy-dandy PEX pass, you get a $5 ticket to the PMA, so what better time to use it? Student ticketing for “Van Gogh Up Close” is a bit expensive- $20 a pop- but you can spend the entire day in the exhibition if you so desire. And come on, what’s more important? That new H&M dress, or the opportunity to see tree paintings in person while an audiobook Harvard art historian talks you through the very strange suicide of the greatest artist that ever lived?

Don’t answer that.

“Van Gogh Up Close” runs through the spring until May 6^th. For more information and ticketing rates, check out the museum’s website.