Bill created some pretty awesome pieces for VS this weekend, an art show curated by Daisy Church for Mission Comics. VS is a Show of Opposites, reeling together twenty Bay Area and Los Angeles artists’ interpretations of pitting this versus that. (Cue Black Sheep.)

Alina Chau • Denise “Dee” Chavez • Daisy Church

Sherry Delorme • Anand Duncan • Ashley Fisher

Liana Hee • Ryan Hungerford • Wednesday Kirwan

Karen Krajenbrink • Steph Laberis • Erin Leong

Shiu Pei Luu • Cat Maske • Sho Murase

Bill Robinson • Emma Sancartier • Chris Vear • Katherine Waddell

Out of Bill’s Mickey vs. Oswald, Maru vs. Box, Harry vs. Voldemort, and 8-Bit Mario vs. 64-Bit Mario, guess which one’s my favorite? (Hint: I ALREADY PUT IT AT THE TOP.)

The Bay Area animation scene seems to have been fairly quiet recently (I blame the artists’ full-time jobs in social gaming and evenings swallowed up by the Animation Collaborative.), so I’m actually really excited to have a reason to to brave some SF winter for the opening. There is much potential to make it a full-on Mission Business Night: Mission Cheese, Mission Chinese Food, Mission Pie, Mission Comics! The itinerary practically writes itself.

VS: A Show of Opposites
New Works by SF and LA Artists
February 4 – March 3, 2012
Opening Reception February 4, 2012
7-10 p.m.

Mission Comics & Art
3520 20th St. Suite B
San Francisco, CA 94110
(415) 695-1545

Something old. Rue du Suquet.

Something new. Along Boulevard de la Croisette.

Winter sunset near the Palais des Festivals.

Cool winter colors.

Winter night lights.

You can't help but admire the arches of these heels.

Did you know that the French government just started dictating when merchants can run their semiannual sales? It just so happened to be that almost every store in Cannes had a “solde” for 30%-70% off. Furla was right outside my hotel window, yet i still managed to return through SFO’s US Customs claiming absolutely no French purchases to my name. Nothing, zilch, nada. I’m quite impressed with myself.

More pics here.

On Sunday I’ll be presenting as part of the midem academy program. My talk, “How to Find, Manage and Motivate Your Superfans,” is all about mobilizing superfans to help you get the word out about your music. Like I said in the Red Magnet Media blog, in my opinion, working with superfans is “The most authentic form of word of mouth marketing available, and also one of the best ways to cultivate a culture around your own brand.”

How to Find, Manage and Motivate Your Superfans
midem academy, Level 01
Sunday January 29, 201211:30 a.m. – 12:30 p.m.

On a personal superfan note, Mark Ronson is a keynote speaker. Record Collection never gets removed from my mobile playlists, so I’m definitely making room for one of my favorite producers on Visionary Monday. Here’s hoping my attempt to unlock my old iPhone will play nicely with my French SIM, so I can overshare all the goings-on.

If you’re going to be in town, send me a Tweet! Restaurant recommendations particularly welcome.

Viva approves of Sleep No More (the program).

For days afterward, Bill and I couldn’t not talk about the show, knowing full well that telling other people about the show is kind of bad. The basics are: It’s a retelling of Macbeth set in a very film noir 1940s – so it’s a very loose, abstract retelling of Macbeth. (I think if you walk in knowing vaguely about witch prophecies and people killing people you’ll be fine.) It’s a production that’s a full-on, interactive experience, so no two people see, hear, or do the same things as the other. Punchdrunk Emursive took over a five-story office building in the Meatpacking District and converted it into the “McKittrick Hotel,” where you don’t buy tickets, you make reservations, and every room is open to your curiosity. You roam at your own pace, meaning you can check out the ballroom, put your head in the tub on the deserted hospital floor, or roll open a drawer in the taxidermist’s office, coming and going as you please. You can follow the actor-dancers throughout the hotel. You can also not follow the actor-dancers throughout the hotel. Not a word is to be spoken between you and the rest of the masked audience (and they’re plastic Italian drama masks – super creepy, so Hell yes we kept ours), though the actor-dancers might utter a sentence or two throughout their entire two-ish hour show. (The most I heard was Lady Macbeth yelling “Are you a man?” at Macbeth.)

Like I alluded to before, every person’s experience is unique. I’ve since heard of friends who have experienced Sleep No More four or five times just to gain more perspectives and come away with more stories. One person had a one-on-one interaction with an actor involving jelly beans injected with black liquid. Bill watched an acrobatic duet with only five other audience members.

Me? I went to the satanic rave orgy twice because I thought it was a good party. (And I saw not one, but two! naked men.)

Scottie also approves of Sleep No More (the program).

I could tell more, but therein lies the conflict about talking about Sleep No More. If you are successful in getting another friend to attend the show, you may do them the injustice of not allowing them to determine their own dramatic destiny. Multiple people told us just enough to get me excited before I started plugging my ears going “Stop telling me! I want to find out for myself!” So instead of overtelling you about the show, I will tell you just one bit about my version of the finale.

Bill and I immediately took different routes (the best way to go!) when we were released into the McKittrick Hotel, and only ended up running into each other momentarily twice throughout the night. By the time the big, monumental finale rolled around, I was by myself again. I was watching a banquet with the characters from the balcony above as things got intense. Keep in mind that there was essentially no dialogue among this dozen of people, so their live action slow motion toasting, nonverbal accusations, and silhouettes against carefully timed lighting were all especially pronounced. We must have been halfway through the banquet when I just needed a break from all the building tension. Curious to see who else was watching from the balcony, I looked at the masked audience peers to my right and to my left, not realizing until that moment that I had been standing next to one of the actors the entire time. She was still in character, looking straight ahead at the banquet, so I looked back at the banquet, too.

As the lighting darkened from yellow to orange to red, I felt a hand stretch over my shoulders. I looked to the source and it wasn’t Bill. It was the actress next to me. All day long leading up to the show, I was joking with Bill about how I’d have to put up a fuss and say “I don’t like being touched!” in case any actors tried to get me to interact. Now that it had actually happened, I didn’t have the balls to speak – or maybe I did, but they just got lodged in my throat. She continued to hold me in her arms, taking my hand and watching the banquet as I watched the banquet and panicked in my head over what to do next. “Am I supposed to hold her back? Do I push her away? Am I sweating profusely? Through my palms?”

And then shit got real. The climax of most interpretations of Shakespeare’s story is that Macbeth is hanged (not hung!) by his friends. As his chair came out, the actress started rubbing my shoulders and back in a really creepy massage. Now the “WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO?!” thoughts were really racing through my head, with rushings of “WHEN DOES IT END?” It’s not like I’d been to an execution before. I didn’t know what the protocol was with these things. Hug the actress? Discuss the hanging? I was flabbergasted, until…

Lights blacked out. End of scene. End of show.

As everyone in the audience seemed to be rising out of a drama-induced stupor, the actress hooked me by the arm and drew me out of the room. I didn’t have much time to process, and I seriously thought she might take me to some demonic afterparty and oh my gosh how would I communicate with Bill. She escorted me through the stairwell, through hallways I hadn’t even seen before, and into the bar where Annie Goodchild channeled a lounge singer from decades before with “When I Get Low I Get High.” (I would love a recording of that specific track sung specifically by her. If you’ve got hookups, please let me know!) The actress directed me to a spot on the wall, spun me around, faced me toward a curtain (starting more concerns that I’d be taken into a a smoky absinthe party, never to be heard from again), turned me about face, removed my mask, and kissed me on both cheeks. I stammered out a nothing, because in my head I wanted to say “Thank you,” while in my throat was still in “WTF just happened” mode. She laughed good-naturedly when she looked at me, as if we were old playmates and she had just found me in my hiding spot. And then she was gone. I looked at the other audience members who had been individually escorted to the lounge, and I beamed.

I’d love to see more of the rest of the show, so I hope the nine times that the end of its run has been prolonged continues for at least another year so I can take at least two more different routes.* It’s a fascinating experience, from the logistics of releasing a crowd full of people into a synchronized performance to the shedding of inhibitions when you’re just another masked person in an anonymous group. Regarding the latter: If you’re generally petite, people usually sympathize with you and let you work your way to the front of the stage at a concert. When everyone is masked and in maximum voyeur mode, tall people make no room for you and you make room for no one. Even from the audience perspective, Sleep No More is psychologically intense and not for the faint of heart.

I’m so glad we went. Let’s go again.

I'm totally serious about that "When I Get Low I Get High" recording. Please share!

*It just so happens Maxine found that the production is looking for more dancers, and will be hosting a casting call on the 30th and 31st. Please! All my dancer friends! Click here for more information, try out, keep this production running, and invite me back.

Enter Hansel from Basel, a design group that is as day-friendly as they are wearable, which means increased representation in my weekly rotation.

Once a month, NY legwear makers Hansel from Basel offer one item on their site at the wholesale price. They call it the Sock of the Month Club, which just sounds really cute, and not in an oversaccharine Zooey Deschanel way (It was her birthday yesterday and I don’t understand why anybody cares.) – much more appealing than all those StyleMint/JewelMint/InedibleMint subscription services that keep popping up and sounding the same. January’s Pom Pom Bag makes me think of the basic components of a snowman, except that you can tote Frosty Parts I, II, III, and IV to and from the market during any season you wish:

Even though it's not a sock, the Pom Pom Bag's Sock of the Month price is $20.80.

Always a fan of geometric designs, I’m also eyeing the Zig Zag and Stripe. At $32 and a recently discounted $24, respectively, they’re reasonably priced and perfect for hopping on and off BART. Foot-wise, these are my favorite Hansel from Basel tights and socks:

To get you through the quieter days of winter, Hansel from Basel got Cameron Mesirow from Glasser curated a playlist spanning Grace Jones to White Town (Yeah, you totally miss that song.), and it’s free for the downloading! Click to DL, scroll for the playlist:

“Devoted to You” -Everly Brothers

“I’ve Done It Again” -Grace Jones

“Land of the Glass Pinecones” -Human Sexual Response

“Herpes Simplex” -Lizzy Mercier

“Um Girassol da Cor Do Seu Cabelo” -Lô Borges

“Head Cage -Matthew Dear

“Why Spend the Dark Night with You” -Moondog

“No One is There” -Nico

“The Devil” -PJ Harvey

“Fairy Tales” -Stockholm Monsters

“Your Woman” -White Town

Interventions are good. Last week I was thisclose to bailing on an eye appointment because I realized, too late into my pre-booked destiny, that maybe I shouldn’t have selected that location based solely on the fact that it’s two minutes away from my office door. Seriously, I didn’t even look up Yelp reviews. What kind of overoptioned mobile-tethered Millennial was I? Still, I went to the appointment, and I got a figurative slap in the face for fucking up my eyes for eight or ten years.

Finding No. 1 – My eyes have been addicted to eye drops. If you merely want to clear up redness, stay offa tha anti-histamines! My drug: Naphcon-A. My pusher, the “Recommended by Eye Doctors” seal on the packaging. (I originally took Naphcon-A on the recommendation of my optometrist in high school, who is now retired.) I now have to wean off of the eye drops on a schedule prescribed by my new optometrist. No joke. Otherwise I’ll go into withdrawal and my eyes’ll be ogre-red for multiple days.

Finding No. 2 – Oral acne meds I took in high school decreased up the production of oil in my eyes. ‘Course, when you’re a sixteen-year old late bloomer who’s had it hard enough having no boobs (still the case), you don’t give a fuck about no no-oil-production-in-the-eyes when you’re 28. (I’m 28!)

Finding No. 3 – Acuvue Oasys contacts have the lowest water content on the market (38%, for you number crunchers). All this time I thought the lenses would help the issue I had with dryness that I assumed to be caused by too much air conditioning. Turns out Acuvue just misspelled Oasys because they’re assholes, and my eyes got dry as a result.

These as-yet-unearthed realizations have made me question a lot of things in my daily health regimen. Add in a birthday gift of six months o’ Birchbox and the communal “resolutionary” spirit of January, and you have the general direction of my Google and Amazon searches for the last three weeks. Here are the beginnings of my never-before-existed beauty regimen:

Finding No. 3 – Biosilk contains alcohol that also addicts and ultimately dries out your hair. – What? I know! Instead of going down the Biosilk route and getting addicted to another seemingly innocuous thing, I’m trying out Japanese camellia oil. The instructions are all in Japanese, which’ll make me look super cool and with-it when I travel.

Finding No. 4 – It’s okay to shop at Kiehl’s. Three words: Midnight. Recovery. Concentrate. I’m actually quite certain that after three weeks of use, I’m already addicted to the little blue bottle, but I solemnly swear that my skin feels taut and restored without being Botox-taut or redness-after-microdermabrasion-restored. I’m also really digging the Ultra Facial Cream. My skin is the winning combo of super sensitive and dry and oily, and so far this lotion has been light, fast-absorbing, and dependable throughout the day. I think shopping at Kiehl’s (not to mention living ten minutes away from Kiehl’s) is a milestone in reaching Ultimate Bougiedom, but as my skin would have it, Immah be the Ultimate Bougie Queen in a coupla years.

So here I am. Older, wiser, and shelling out more money to look like I am younger and less experienced. Knowledge is power, and I have just been emancipated. Factor in my Asian genes, I just might be able to fool ‘em.

If I hear one more person say how "epic" this year's @coachella lineup is, Immah stuff their iPhone 4S down their throat. GET A THESAURUS.—
Mayka Mei (@mayka) January 10, 2012

People overuse the word “epic.” In frat pack movies, in gaming, in a Web-worked world oversaturated with memes. They sprinkle it on shit like it’s glitter.

Well I am here to tell you that “epic” is not glitter. (And your shit isn’t “epic.”) Everything is not fucking “epic!” That is the whole point of “epic!” “Epic” is a long-ass poem or the end of an era. “Epic” is not a meal, no matter how delicious. A meal would have to take 2,000 pages to chronicle and end in a peace treaty in order to be epic. The Last Supper might be epic, but I’m Agnostic so I am unqualified to comment on it. In moments of dictive weakness I’ve misused “epic,” but considering how long I’ve been writing in a blog, not that often.

I get that the idea of the joke is to use a hyperbolic word to describe something simple, but…it’s just not that funny of a joke. The people who say “The way Jenna fell flat on her face at the bar? Epic!” are the same people who think “I like long walks on the beach” is an original and funny opening to a personal introduction. “Epic” and “long walks on the beach” are about as funny as coconut water. What? Yeah, exactly, shattup.

*

So when Coachella announced its lineup for 2012 yesterday, I was not about to have it. Combinations of “epic” and “Coachella” popped up so many times in my home feeds that I just had to say it – online, on Twitter, where passive-aggressive rhetorical statements are wont to be made.

And then in “Coachella 2012: By the numbers,” The Washington Post picked up on:

1. The positive correlation between “epic” and “Coachella,” and
2. The fact that I found it all extremely annoying.

Just look at that classy permalink:

To be clear, I AM SO NOT MAD AT DRE & SNOOP. Still, I maintain my ground on all you "epic" abusers: David Guettathesaurus. End. #coachella—
Mayka Mei (@mayka) January 10, 2012

And of course, I only learned about the linkback because of a Tweet from a Twitter friend. Thanks, Albert!

*

I am excited about this year’s lineup. “Next Episode” is my jam, so I feel quite compelled to go. (I also had a dream once where I was making out with Snoop Dogg – this makes me feel the opposite of “compelled” to go.)

Anyway, you wanna go? I hear it’s going to be legen-wait for it-AMAZERBALLS.

You’ve seen the posters. You recognize the lightbulb block lettering, traditionally associated with such obvious hits as Chicago and such obvious flops as Burlesque. Or maybe you saw the individual letters on sale at Therapy or other purposefully overdone interior design stores. Whatever your immediate association, NBC wants you to know SMASH IS COMING.

Sammie invited me to a screening of NBC’s new drama, soon to occupy the slot after The Voice on Monday nights. (February 6th! Mark your marketing musical calendars!) We all know about my falling out with Glee, and I was never a follower of American Idol or The Voice or X Factor. But I’m still a musical theater fan, and nothing follows Chevy’s enchiladas better than more cheese, so there I was to see what the Hell Katharine McPhee’s been up to.

Initial thoughts:

1. I cannot get over how sculpted Katharine McPhee’s face is. It’s kind of alien. When I worked in social gaming, analyzing how to make a 3-D avatar’s head look like Katharine McPhee’s head, I had to stare at her mug every day. Study the arch of her brows. Wonder at her cheekbones. The curves of her lips. She’s almost textbook beautiful, mathematically gorgeous. Yet I don’t find her attractive. It’s weird.
2. The show? It’s entertaining. It takes a musical path, so if you don’t like musical numbers, of course you will not like the show. Based on just the premiere episode alone, it doesn’t force-fit outbreaks of song and dance as much as Glee does. If anything, the way they work song and dance numbers into the script is more akin to Broadway scripting than anything that happens to McKinley High.
3. The dialogue is sometimes really awful. This should be expected. It’s not all-out groan-worthy the way True Blood often is, but moments are lame enough that you know “This is not the ‘Smash’ hit the title promises it will be.”
4. There is a British Indian in the show. It really excited me when, A) The marketing representative handing me a pamphlet handed me a made-up Playbill about Smash instead of a survey about Smash, and B) I saw that this gentleman, Raza Jaffrey, plays a character named Dev Sundaram (not “Tom Haverford” or “Jonathan”). Jaffrey is a key character in the script, it seems, starting off as McPhee’s boyfriend who works in the New York mayor’s office. I’m quite sure he could be the result of an NBC Universal diversity initiative. I totally think he might be the requisite character of color who is not Black, but still! It’s really exciting! The snarker in me expects him to bring some token Bollywood interpretation to the show, but the American Asian in me is largely just happy. It hurts not that I find him attractive, and his accent, too.

The team backing Smash is nothing to snub at: He with His Hands in Everything, Steven Spielberg! And Tony and Grammy-winning composer and co-lyricist Marc Shaiman and Scott Wittman on board. Considering the years of TV and mainstream support Broadway has been getting (Glee, American Idiot, etc.), I can’t help but be particularly curious to see how this plays out. To see if young generations will continue to see the value in live theater. (Heck knows movies are getting about as expensive as a staged show anyway!)

As the Bay Area braces itself for local Glee alum Darren Criss’ performance in How to Succeed in Business without Really Trying, I’m seeing more apparent connections between screen and stage being made in front young audiences who probably only had access to the former before. Who’s to say the new prescribed path for ultimate stardom isn’t a breakout screen role and legitimate time on stage? Or in Julianne Hough’s case, Proactiv commercials and then a movie based on a staged musical. Anyway, you get what I mean. The point is, the stage plays more of a role in mainstream entertainment these days, even if it is just an environmental reference. Smash may be another notch in its modern-day significance.

Looks like they film some of the show at the New 42nd Street Studios, where this little Mariah Carey carol was shot. And they made fun of Spider-man. Well done, Broadway consultants, well done.

Will I be watching the show? Probably, but probably on my own streaming schedule.

Sources: Twitter. Tumblr. Flickr. Instagram. Myself.

January

We went to Vegas!

Post-Love at MGM Grand.

February

Moxsie went to Vegas! (For the last time.)

MAGIC, the Fashion Trade Show Gathering.

March

Catface did not go to Vegas.

I still really want a pet.

April

Maru’s is still the only YouTube channel I subscribe to.

One-of-a-kind commission by Becky Dreistadt!

I MET BAI LING.

AND I met...her mom.

 Bill and I surrounded ourselves with sunglasses and Scissorhands.

And Bill turned 27 in LA.

May

WE WENT TO ITALY!

I had my most perfect day in the Cinque Terre.

Halfway through our first international trip together, Moxsie declared bankruptcy. I applied for unemployment from my iPad (Ironically Known As: Moxsie Pad) in Florence at 1:30 in the morning. Then we went to the Cinque Terre!

Where I also had the best meal of my life.

June

Conveniently, I got back to California just in time to be Red Magnet Media’s first full-time employee.

Started a new job, headed to LA.

July

And then I worked backstage at Incubus HQ Live.

I'm still the Mayor on Foursquare.

August

I MET GHOSTFACE KILLAH.

And I blogged for MAGIC.

And I went to Vegas!

"Come on, baby."

 We met Uma.

An adorable pup looking for an understanding home.

September

I experienced a New England Fall, just without the changing leaves.

We spent a warm autumn week in Massachusetts eating seafood and hugging babies.

 We dined at Asia’s new spot, Sam’s.

We eated all the things at Sam's in Boston.

Of which I highly recommend the fresh oysters and lobster.

October

My expat friends and I stranded ourselves on Treasure Island.

The Head and the Heart.

I got a Mahfia Mixie!

Makes me look exponentially more hip than I actually am.

November

Cooked up cool things with cool clients!

I met Nick Pitera. Yes, THAT Nick Pitera.

We took M is for Mutt on a tour down to CTN.

We got a dose of visual creativity at CTN.

December

We had a New England Christmas!

I saw a snowflake. Just one.

Melting ice is fascinating.

This moment was precious.

I turned 28.

The end.

SO mature.

Thanks for all your support this year and those previous. While I’ve resigned myself to a regular (yet still hopeful) two posts per week, I haven’t resigned myself to crappy topics, so I hope you enjoy whatever I’m able to cobble together in the future. Happy new year!

Here’s an excerpt:

The concert hall at the Syndey Opera House holds 2,700 people. This blog was viewed about 58,000 times in 2011. If it were a concert at Sydney Opera House, it would take about 21 sold-out performances for that many people to see it.

Click here to see the complete report.