courtesy of doug carterLiving history is cool.
25 February 2011
17 February 2011
best of times
And so it begins.
(Though I wish it were not beginning with the overwhelming need for a nap.)
14 February 2011
happy batman day
Years ago, it dawned on me that Valentine's day is basically insipid, thereby a completely innocuous reason to get down on life just because I didn't have Someone to hold. Single Awareness Day is far less innocuous because Valentine's day doesn't have to be about romantic-love, it can just be about love-love, and it's sad if it's just all about romantic-love when there are so many people to love-love. I mean, that's why we built those boxes in elementary school year after year and dropped in NSYNC and Barbie valentines that say things like "You rock, Valentine!" and "Friends are forever!"
See? Insipid.
In an effort to shift gears and focus on something that seemed equally meaningless, Batman Day was born. I don't even recall why, though it did have something to do with my friend Jacqs and the fact that we sent each other the same Valentine in the mail.
And so, while Ames and I spend a romantic evening rehearsing this play about friendship and the love of other human beings, I hope you have a very
See? Insipid.
In an effort to shift gears and focus on something that seemed equally meaningless, Batman Day was born. I don't even recall why, though it did have something to do with my friend Jacqs and the fact that we sent each other the same Valentine in the mail.
And so, while Ames and I spend a romantic evening rehearsing this play about friendship and the love of other human beings, I hope you have a very
HAPPY BATMAN DAY
10 February 2011
tech week papercut
Have you ever had a papercut in the bend of your finger, right where your finger becomes your hand so it's difficult and painful to bend? Have you had a papercut in the bend of your middle finger, right where your finger becomes your hand so it's difficult and painful to bend so you kind of wind up flipping everything off for a few hours?
Welcome to my world.
It could be worse. I could have a sliver right in the bend of my middle finger, and it would be because of the raddest stage set I've ever had the pleasure of walking and dancing and tromping across. But it's also filled with slivers because it is made of rough old wood that came from a big old barn that the theater bought and then tore down in order to make a raked stage that looks like this:
Please also note my shoes, which are a cross between Felicity Merriman the American Girl doll and the Salem Witch Trials. Of course they'll look much cooler without jeans, but you get the idea. AND THE SLIVERS IN THE FLOOR! Because the floor is made of a barn. Which is just fine.
Last night was our first tech rehearsal for A Tale of Two Cities (click!) and as anyone who's had the pleasure of surviving a tech rehearsal week will know, there is a lot of sitting, a very lot of waiting, and even more stop and go. Luckily I have the yarns to keep me occupied and a cast of very pleasant people who generally make me feel very warm and squishy about this pretty neat show that we get to do together. I mean, really-- this show is so pretty. And sad. And happy. And funny. And heart-wrenching. And PRETTY. And my French Peasant hair is kind of honey-colored. I'm a blonde French peasant who gets really into the idea of "off with her head"-ing people. While standing on a set that used to be an old barn.
So I just sit there at tech rehearsal with my yarns, and my Ames, and my friends, and kind of just wait around to be needed, which means a few hours might go by, so I've got some Diet Coke, and some Cheetos, and some trail mix, and after a while last night there was even some sushi from the place down the street where they have the very most delightful staff who give you free drinks and soup while you wait for your to-go order and they know you by name, so that was nice too. And even though there's so much waiting around, there is a lot in life that is worse than sitting around with all those things, waiting for your turn to take part in something quite so interesting and happy and sad and pretty.
Though I mean, tonight will be interesting depending on how awkward this papercut makes things.
But at least it's not a sliver.
Welcome to my world.
It could be worse. I could have a sliver right in the bend of my middle finger, and it would be because of the raddest stage set I've ever had the pleasure of walking and dancing and tromping across. But it's also filled with slivers because it is made of rough old wood that came from a big old barn that the theater bought and then tore down in order to make a raked stage that looks like this:
Please also note my shoes, which are a cross between Felicity Merriman the American Girl doll and the Salem Witch Trials. Of course they'll look much cooler without jeans, but you get the idea. AND THE SLIVERS IN THE FLOOR! Because the floor is made of a barn. Which is just fine.
Last night was our first tech rehearsal for A Tale of Two Cities (click!) and as anyone who's had the pleasure of surviving a tech rehearsal week will know, there is a lot of sitting, a very lot of waiting, and even more stop and go. Luckily I have the yarns to keep me occupied and a cast of very pleasant people who generally make me feel very warm and squishy about this pretty neat show that we get to do together. I mean, really-- this show is so pretty. And sad. And happy. And funny. And heart-wrenching. And PRETTY. And my French Peasant hair is kind of honey-colored. I'm a blonde French peasant who gets really into the idea of "off with her head"-ing people. While standing on a set that used to be an old barn.
So I just sit there at tech rehearsal with my yarns, and my Ames, and my friends, and kind of just wait around to be needed, which means a few hours might go by, so I've got some Diet Coke, and some Cheetos, and some trail mix, and after a while last night there was even some sushi from the place down the street where they have the very most delightful staff who give you free drinks and soup while you wait for your to-go order and they know you by name, so that was nice too. And even though there's so much waiting around, there is a lot in life that is worse than sitting around with all those things, waiting for your turn to take part in something quite so interesting and happy and sad and pretty.
Though I mean, tonight will be interesting depending on how awkward this papercut makes things.
But at least it's not a sliver.
04 February 2011
reflection
It's 19 degrees outside.
I'm not complaining, and I'm not trying to keep up with the Joneses or whatever because the entire country has looked like this all week:
We actually haven't gotten any snow in Utar, but it sure is chilly. It doesn't help when you (I) live in a basement apartment and the central heating is controlled by upstairs and your (my) vents aren't great anyway so it's typically about 58 degrees inside your (my) house.
I haven't really gotten ready for the day at all this week. Too cold, especially when I have to be at work by 8AM. I'm a wuss. I get it. But truly, it's more worth it to me to wear a sweatshirt and have 2-day old hair rather than suffer those 5 minutes post-shower, when your systems is shocked from blissful sauna hot tub water joy and your skin is all squishy and your lungs are all full and clear when you cross the protective shower curtain barrier and hit a wall of FREEZING SHRIVELED SKIN ICICLE HAIR WHIMPERING JAMES TAYLOR'S FROZEN MAN COLD. Give me a dirty-haired ponytail any day. EVERY day.
Also I've fallen into the habit of not wearing makeup, really. I don't forget, exactly, and it's not even that I'm just lazy. It's more like, I think about it on my way into the office and think I'll just take a few minutes to put on some mascara once I have a minute and then all of a sudden it's 5pm and I'm looking at myself in the mirror wondering how I managed to look so hashed the entire day long.
Isn't it interesting how getting up early is so much easier in the summertime? Curse my bed with flannel sheets and my own personal body warmer (aka Ames, who seems to consistently and conveniently radiate heat at all times), which is always the most comfortable between 6:00-7:45AM. All beds are the most comfortable during those winter hours. It's like a big mattress conspiracy.
But 19 degrees is a whole lot more bearable than 5 degrees at 8AM, which is what it was yesterday. 19 degrees is real cold, but when I ran outside just now to take the trash to the dumpster, I breathed in a certain invigoration that kind of filled me up inside and felt inspiring, reminding me that I can work 8-9 hours a day and then live through the French Revolution every night and find stage dirt in the most unlikely places and things are gonna be A-OK.
I'm not complaining, and I'm not trying to keep up with the Joneses or whatever because the entire country has looked like this all week:
We actually haven't gotten any snow in Utar, but it sure is chilly. It doesn't help when you (I) live in a basement apartment and the central heating is controlled by upstairs and your (my) vents aren't great anyway so it's typically about 58 degrees inside your (my) house.I haven't really gotten ready for the day at all this week. Too cold, especially when I have to be at work by 8AM. I'm a wuss. I get it. But truly, it's more worth it to me to wear a sweatshirt and have 2-day old hair rather than suffer those 5 minutes post-shower, when your systems is shocked from blissful sauna hot tub water joy and your skin is all squishy and your lungs are all full and clear when you cross the protective shower curtain barrier and hit a wall of FREEZING SHRIVELED SKIN ICICLE HAIR WHIMPERING JAMES TAYLOR'S FROZEN MAN COLD. Give me a dirty-haired ponytail any day. EVERY day.
Also I've fallen into the habit of not wearing makeup, really. I don't forget, exactly, and it's not even that I'm just lazy. It's more like, I think about it on my way into the office and think I'll just take a few minutes to put on some mascara once I have a minute and then all of a sudden it's 5pm and I'm looking at myself in the mirror wondering how I managed to look so hashed the entire day long.
Isn't it interesting how getting up early is so much easier in the summertime? Curse my bed with flannel sheets and my own personal body warmer (aka Ames, who seems to consistently and conveniently radiate heat at all times), which is always the most comfortable between 6:00-7:45AM. All beds are the most comfortable during those winter hours. It's like a big mattress conspiracy.
But 19 degrees is a whole lot more bearable than 5 degrees at 8AM, which is what it was yesterday. 19 degrees is real cold, but when I ran outside just now to take the trash to the dumpster, I breathed in a certain invigoration that kind of filled me up inside and felt inspiring, reminding me that I can work 8-9 hours a day and then live through the French Revolution every night and find stage dirt in the most unlikely places and things are gonna be A-OK.
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