May 13, 2013

Kim Blanck

Happy Mother’s Day, Mom. 

I got you this Thank You card because Trader Joe’s didn’t have any Mother’s Day cards. But Mother’s Day involves gratitude, so I thought it was still OK. And it has flowers on it. So here goes.

Mom, thank you for giving birth to me. I know that was thirteen hours of a lot of weird fluids, but I’m glad you did it and I hope you are too.

Mom, thank you for naming me Kimberly. I know you were considering Emily and Allison and Dad was pushing for something weird like Tree, but I want to let you know that I like being Kimberly. Unlike Emilys and Allisons, I haven’t met many Kimberlys. It makes me feel special.

Mom, thank you for making me take violin lessons. I know I screamed and thrashed and cried at you when I didn’t want to practice, but damn, if I’d known that in fifteen years people would be pretty impressed that I could play the violin, I’d have practiced and practiced and practiced again.

Mom, thank you for taking me, Kat, Allegra and Hannah to L.A. during our sophomore year of high school. I know we listened to that one Rooney CD in the car over and over, I begged to go party with those strangers that approached us in Starbucks, and we waited in line for hours for Jay Leno tickets, so how did you keep your patience with us even in all that traffic? You are one strong woman.

Mom, thank you for making it possible for me to go to acting school. You’re a scientist, and Dad’s a scientist, so you must’ve been a little confused as to why I didn’t want to do something a little more micropipetty, but I appreciate your unwavering support in following this dream I’ve had ever since I took the stage in the little-known Pom Pom Zombies, a doo-wop musical written exclusively for distribution to middle schools. 

Mom, thank you for making it possible for me to go to acting school again. Just…yeah. Thanks. I promise you I’m still learning stuff.

Mom, thank you for your dimples. I’m glad I got one of them in the womb.

Thank you for your loud, terribly loud, lovably loud laugh. I think I’ve got that, too.

Thank you for telling me to drink my milk. Otherwise, who knows how short I’d be?

Thank you for all the school supplies between kindergarten and twelfth grade.

Thank you for all the extracurricular activities that’ve made me the mildly talented person I am today. 

Thank you for the car you bought me when I was 18. That ’96 Passat made me feel like the coolest girl in the world.

Thank you for all those clothes of yours I took. Especially that leather jacket.

Thank you for all the money you’ve lent me, from the coffee purchases to the college ones.

Thank you for all the trips to everywhere you’ve given me.

Thank you for coming to my plays, even when I had no lines and they were four hours long.

Thank you for being there. Whenever I need you.

Thank you for being my mom. I love you, Mom. Happy Mother’s Day.

April 16, 2013

Kim Blanck

- That coffee I have to buy every morning before my 11am class. Honestly, if I don’t have that coffee, I will not make it through this class. Which I paid tuition for.

- That cocktail I have to drink alongside my noisy band of classmates at T.G.I. Friday’s. I work with them, so it’s a work-related outing, right? No, I don’t have any of the receipts. What, like people save receipts?

- All the hours I spend catching up on Smash and Nashville on Hulu. That’s a whole 120 minutes a week, and that includes commercials, so you get what I’m saying.

- The total prices of all the lip balms I have stored in each of my pants, purses, drawers and backpacks. You know that without lip balm, nobody can pay attention in class. Which I paid tuition for.

- Ditto these cough drops. It’s certainly not my fault I got bronchitis.

- Having a little sister. It’s the little one’s 16th birthday in two weeks, and I have to get her something big and awesome and I’ll probably have to pay to ship it. Come on, remember when you turned 16? 

- That $65 Angels by Victoria’s Secret Dream Angels Multi-Way bra. What, am I supposed to just be uncomfortable all day? I’m a Dream Angel.

- This scone. It was THREE DOLLARS. I pay tuition, you know.

- This ring? How much can I get for it?

- I’ve got this hangnail. 

- Do you have an iPhone charger?

- Okay, but seriously: can you at least not charge me for filing my state taxes? At $40 per state, this annual something-that-I-have-to-do is getting pricey. I’m the last person to have to cough up those fees, because I’m paying tuition. And I just bought a really expensive scone.

…

See Political Subversities live in NYC Saturdays in April at the PIT! Click here for more info. And maybe Kim should re-watch this song of Andrew’s:

“The Storm on the Sea of Galilee” (1633) is the only seascape painted by Rembrandt. “The Concert” (1664) is one of only 36 known paintings by Johannes Vermeer. Both were stolen 23 years ago today on March 18, 1990 from the Isabella Stewart Gardiner Museum.

They remain unfound and bored out of their minds. The following has been translated from the original Dutch.

THE STORM:          Hey.

THE CONCERT:     Hey.

THE STORM:           Long time, no see. Ha ha.

THE CONCERT:     We’ve only been smushed face-to-face and covered with a shower curtain for the past twenty years.

THE STORM:           Stop being such a downer. We’re here in this garage encircled by a box of old children’s clothes, a fake Christmas tree, and lots and lots of rope. We may as well get used to it.

THE CONCERT:     Speak for yourself. I am a beautiful, peaceful painting. YOU are dark and crooked.

THE STORM:           HEY. I am wild and exciting! I depict the miracle of Jesus!

THE CONCERT:     I get motion sick just looking at you.

THE STORM:           At least I’m not all sepia tone.

THE CONCERT:     I will scratch you.

THE STORM:           Stop! Let’s calm down. This is supposed to be an interview.

[Silence.]

THE CONCERT:     You just make me so mad.

THE STORM:           I’m sorry. You know you’re my best friend.

THE CONCERT:     Well, sometimes, it doesn’t feel like it.

THE STORM:           We’ve just seen a lot of each other for the past twenty years. The only other piece of artwork nearby is that beaker. No one wants to talk to that beaker.

BEAKER:                  你好 !

THE STORM:           For the last time, WE DON’T SPEAK CHINESE!

THE CONCERT:     I hate that beaker.

THE STORM:           Me too. So what should we talk about?

THE CONCERT:     Ooh, ask me about my daily routine.

THE STORM:           Okay, what’s your daily routine?

THE CONCERT:     So, first I sit here. Then, I think about my maker. After that, I think about Colin Firth playing my maker in that movie that that stack of magazines told us about. Then, I concentrate for many hours on contacting the FBI via ESP so that you and I can be recovered and rehung in Boston –

THE STORM:           Boston? No way. If we’re ever found, you know they’re gonna put us somewhere even better. Like New York.

THE CONCERT:     You think? I’ve never been to New York!

THE STORM:           We HAVE to see Wicked!

THE CONCERT:     WE HAVE TO SEE WICKED! Do you think Idina Menzel is still in it?

THE STORM:           No way. That was like ten years ago. Don’t you have any idea how musicals work? There’s some other person playing it now.

THE CONCERT:     Oh. I hope she’s as good as Idina. I love that soundtrack.

THE STORM:           Me too. [Singing.] No good deed goes unpunished!

THE CONCERT:     [Singing.] No act of charity goes unresented!

BOTH:                       [Singing.] FIYERO!

THE STORM:           That show is so good.

THE CONCERT:     I love Stephen Schwartz.

THE STORM:           I wish our takers would play that soundtrack more often. They’re way more into Glee now. I hate Glee.

THE CONCERT:     Me too. Hey. You really are my best friend. You don’t actually make me motion sick.

THE STORM:           Thanks. And I like your colors.

THE CONCERT:     I hope that – never mind.

THE STORM:           No, what?

THE CONCERT:     I just hope that…if we get found soon…that we stay together.

THE STORM:           That’s really nice. Me too.

THE CONCERT:     [Singing.] Because I knew you…

THE STORM:           [Singing.] Because I knew you…

BEAKER:                  [Singing.] I have been changed for good! 我喜欢 Wicked!

THE CONCERT:     I will crack you.

THE STORM:           You are hated.

February 18, 2013

Kim Blanck

Today is Presidents Day.

On this day, we remember George Washington – the first President of the United States, the Senior Officer of the Army, the Commander-in-Chief of the Continental Army, the Delegate to the Second Continental Congress from Virginia, and the Delegate to the First Continental Congress from Virginia – by sleeping in until 11:46 A.M. and going to brunch with Ashley from Recruiting and Ashish from Business Marketing. 

We honor his decades of service by spending the afternoon at Macy’s and finally settling on the Sertapedic Queen Mattress Set (Skylands Tight Top Firm) on sale for $247.00, regularly $689.00. As we peruse the Accessories section, we think back on his being hailed as “first in war, first in peace, and first in the hearts of his countrymen” by putting down another $229.99 on the Lauren Ralph Lauren Harrow Hobo handbag, regularly $298.00. 

Nationwide, we celebrate his vision of a great and powerful America by taking a nap on brand-new, aforementioned mattress with one hand resting solemnly upon beautiful hobo handbag. As we awaken, we revere Washington as an icon of liberation and nationalism for all future time by sliding ourselves deep within our couches with two Diet Cokes and a rerun of Nashville. When former Whose Line Is It Anyway? star Chip Esten erupts into sexy, sober song, we welcome the warm, nearly erotic pleasure of country twang mingled with federal holiday as it courses deliciously through our bodies. We let out a luxurious belch smelling solely of Diet Coke. 

“Thank you, George Washington,” we whisper, “for providing us with this annual day off from work, during which we sleep, shop, sleep, and singlehandedly keep Nashville on the air. Thank you for all that you’ve done for us. Thank you.”

Happy Presidents Day.

…

Check out PoliSub’s most recent video, ‘Who Should Be The Next Pope?’ by clicking HERE!

December 25, 2012

Kim Blanck

Christmas is about family.

Christmas is about giving.

Christmas is about giving your family the benefit of the doubt when your family says she brought in that J. Crew bag from the car, but now you don’t see it.

Christmas is about seeing.

Christmas is about believing.

Christmas is about believing that your sister went ahead and stole those wool socks that were on the sale pile that you’d bought for yourself, because goddamn it, you deserve it, after the miserable year you’ve had.

Christmas is about Les Misérables.

Christmas is about togetherness.

Christmas is about pretending you’re not together with your family at the movies when you run into your high school boyfriend and his Brazilian giraffe wife. Instead, you’re looking for your own husband, who’s a cardiologist around here somewhere.

Christmas is about the heart.

Christmas is about love.

Christmas is about posing with your loved ones for the annual picture-of-everyone-in-front-of-the-fireplace picture.

December 9, 2012

Kim Blanck

In Florida’s vast Everglades National Park, there reside tens of thousands of Burmese pythons. As a devout fearer of snakes, shipwrecks, and the sound of the toilet flushing in the middle of the night, this sounds like my worst nightmare. Turns out, it’s Florida’s too: these huge snakes are chomping up endangered species, like the adorable-sounding Key Largo wood rat. Plus, a report released in January of this year states that the numbers of raccoons, opossums and bobcats in South Florida’s famed River of Grass have dropped as much as 99%.

These pythons like to eat.

So the Sunshine State is tackling its Burmese python problem in a truly Floridian way: by holding a hunting contest. According to the Python Challenge rules, a grand prize of $1,500 will be awarded to the person who kills the most pythons. Additionally, $1,000 will go to the person who kills the longest one.

I don’t know about you, but I’d need WAY more than $1,500 to even consider wading through the Everglades with the hope of encountering a slew of Burmese pythons. Do you know how huge these beasts are? A few months ago, a seventy-six pound deer was found in the stomach of one of these snakes. 

A FUCKING DEER. That snake just swallowed it whole.

The Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission wants to offer me, like, one month’s rent in a shitty studio apartment in some weird neighborhood of Manhattan in exchange for hunting down the winning number of Burmese pythons in a vast area of wetland? I will CERTAINLY die. No, thank you.  I would need at least $10 million on the line. At least.

Also, Florida, who am I? Who am I to slap a gun to my back, pull on some rubber boots, and walk around shooting snakes in the head? This is not me. I like to sit at a coffee shop and read Real Simple on my iPad. The most adventurous thing I’ve ever done has probably been going to Paris with my dad last summer. I definitely don’t think I am the kind of person to go tromping through marshes on the hunt for a 17-foot long, 164-lb. snake. 

It’s a good thing you have those people living nearby, though. 

Florida, best of luck on the Python Challenge. I hope more snakes die than crazy people.

…

Check out Political Subversities LIVE at Ars Nova on December 12th and 13th! Info and tickets HERE. 

November 11, 2012

Kim Blanck

Or this deliciously broad of a suit jacket.

Wouldn’t you?