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Wednesday, November 24th, 2004
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10:43 am - The Best-Laid Plans, Revisited
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You'd think that if I've learned anything from past experience, it's that when I plan something down to the minute details, it tends to go utterly, utterly wrong.
Last night was one of those times. Complete, unmitigated disaster, if you ask me (the cast might say differently, but they're not here to argue).
( There's no business like show business like no business I know. )
I'm working lines with the leads tonight, and I'm supposed to run the full show on Sunday. Now bits and pieces of my cast are dropping out of that (plus I have all the set bollocks to do that morning). This is all rapidly spinning out of my depth. "But what good's a brick to a drowning man?"
(The nice thing about R&G; is that, like The Princess Bride, it can be quoted in just about any context.)
Oh, and in the midst of my rehearsal, I got a call from this guy I used to work with at the zoo. He's with the local paper, and got my home number when he came to do publicity photos. Thanks for giving him the cell phone number, Mom! I don't know why I'm suddenly rocking the Older Man Mojo, but it's really disconcerting and I wish it would stop already.
Speaking of older men, the Public Information head and I are going out for an Indian buffet lunch, which very well might be the high point of my (work)week. Why isn't it lunch time yet? Bring on the naan already!
In case I don't get back here later, have a good Thanksgiving (if you celebrate Turkey Day, that is).
current mood:  drained
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| Tuesday, November 23rd, 2004
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5:36 pm - Posting on the fly
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Thanks for everyone for their kind comments on the last entry; I've been trying to respond to them all, but it may take me until tomorrow to finish that up. Love you guys!
Waiting for SwingBoy to pick me up from work (which I really ought to be finishing instead of writing this entry). We've been charged with finishing up all of Director's last-minute building projects before Thanksgiving, ha ha ha. SB has proven himself shockingly adept with power tools, but if I'm typing a little funny tomorrow, it's because I've lost a finger.
I had a much funnier punchline for that paragraph, but lost it around here somewhere. Along with my pencil.
current mood:  rushed
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| Monday, November 22nd, 2004
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4:23 pm - Grumbles from the Grave
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(Well, not really; I'm only mostly dead.)
I feel kind of blah today. Reasons being:
1. It was kind of a crap weekend. I had set construction most of the day Saturday, and a rehearsal yesterday. When I got home on Saturday, I was so tired from working/not eating that I was barely able to stand up (I'm amazed I ever made it home). I didn't even get in the door before my mother told me to go and get her something to eat. Which I was unwilling to do at first, because has two perfectly unbroken legs and a driver's license. Then, she wanted me to drive all over town to pick up different parts of her meal, I refused, and she started screaming at me because I'm lazy and worthless.
Then, she told me that--and this is a direct quote--she prays every day that she gets cancer and dies a horrible death before my eyes. For the next hour, she kept coming into my room to ask why the hell I was still crying. Luckily, SB called around that point, and was able to talk me down to the point where I was no longer a danger to anyone in the house. [For the record, I did eventually get an apology, but can you blame me for thinking that some things shouldn't be said in the first place?]
Rehearsal yesterday was slightly better, but it doesn't change the fact that:
2. My director is going out of town and leaving me in charge of everything. Now, I probably shouldn't complain, because I do love the theatre, and I like to think that the show needs me at this point. But, we're a week from tech (which means we're down to the wire as it is) and I don't need the extra added stress of finishing off the set on top of fixing everything else that's still not in place. The people we struggled so hard to fill minor roles have conflicts galore, we still have yet to run the entire show, and it's just not where I think it should be. And now I'm starting to stress about it, which means that all of the important details I need to have straight are starting to leak out of my ears. Business as usual, really, but I haven't gotten this Freaking Out thing down to a science yet.
3. My computers ate the floppy disk with my cover letter on it. Yep, the cover letter I was going to finish today. I had to write up a synopsis of Hamlet for the program, and when I went to work on it on my ancient laptop, it had trouble opening the file. When the household computer became free, I popped in the disk and BOOM! it had been de-formatted. I up until 12:30am re-writing the Hamlet thing, and now I don't have the energy to sit down and start over on the cover letter... which was the only file not saved on a hard drive somewhere!
4. ( TMI )
5. Even if I haven't mentioned it lately, I'm still kind of in love with SwingBoy. And it's still not going anywhere. Alas.
On the bright side, yesterday was my father's birthday, so today there was a giant, delicious carrot cake. Lovely icing. Cake makes everything better. Musn't grumble, really, when there's cake around. And since it's technically his, we were able to hoard a good chunk of it (with all the icing roses, no less!) to take home for later. Which means more cake, yay!
No rehearsal tonight, so I might be able to have my cake and eat it, too.
ETA: You know what I hate? That I'm always complaining on my journal. Seriously, in real life, I'm a much happier person than I am online. Here, I sound like the sort of person who never smiles. Even when I'm in a good mood, it still sounds like I'm having a good whine. From here on out, when I start to get overly negative, it'll be up to you guys to smack me upside the head. Positive vibes, peple!
current mood:  blah
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| Friday, November 19th, 2004
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11:05 am - LiveJournal Hodgepodge
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Lawks, I'm tired. I don't know how my father does it, staying up until all hours and then getting the dogs up before sunrise. They didn't seem any more anxious to get out of bed than I did.
Rehearsals are starting to kill me again. Last night, I got furious with my director for giving notes and having a conversation while there were still actors onstage who needed his attention. I lied and told him they'd had questions about that section so he'd (gasp!) watch them, then seethed at SwingBoy who dragged me outside so I could vent at full voice. Darling that he is, he pointed out all the ways that Director really isn't in charge anymore. "Luckily, we have a secret weapon," he tells me. "What?" "YOU!!"
(Ok, maybe you had to be there. It's funny because it's true; the cast defers to me now. Which is a great, big, giant ego-boost, but still means that I have a week to fix everything, where they could have been doing it my way since the beginning.)
He also called me "love," (or "luv," as we're both wannabe Brits) which made me giddier than I had any right to be. Hee!
( Stop! Meme Time. )
And can I just say that sometimes--right now, for example--I really don't like being female? On the whole, I enjoy wearing skirts and getting people to do things just by batting my eyelashes, but when my skin's a mess and everything from the navel on down is all tied in knots...? Not so much.
current mood:  sleepy
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| Thursday, November 18th, 2004
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9:08 am - Mission accomplished!
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Say, remember that wasp from the other day?
I just found it. Am pleased to report it has been slain. Successfully. I think (I hope).
Home this morning. Dad left for a four-day dog show circuit last night, which means it's just Mom and I holding down the fort. Frightening prospect if you ask me, but so far, neither of us have been home (and awake) at the same time for more than a few minutes, and it looks like it'll continue that way until the weekend. In the meantime, I had to be up at 6:00am to take care of the remaining dogs, all of whom seemed very confused about what's happened to Daddy.
I have another few hours before I leave for work. I was hoping to get some job application-type stuff done, and maybe finish yesterday's rant about the theatre, but I somehow suspect I'll end up on the couch with three dogs and a Batman comic.
Clothes next, then breakfast.
current mood:  hungry
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| Wednesday, November 17th, 2004
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3:31 pm - A life in the theatre...
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Quote of the Day:
"Marijuana. It's like Viagra for actors."
- Guildenstern, last night while we were stumbling out of leaving the bar.
We've officially found all of our Tragedians. In fact, they were all at rehearsal last night. Be on the lookout for porcine aviation.
Rehearsal itself didn't go as badly as I would have thought, given that a) just about everyone had had a pretty crap day, and b) Sunday's rehearsal was kind of a mess. I probably said this about ...Kate, but here goes again: our director is an old family friend and I love him dearly, but if this were my production, we would be running things a lot differently. The problem with this show is that half of the time, I am the one running things.
Sunday's rehearsal was a perfect example. While Director was going over blocking with two of the new actors, I had the rest of the cast run through Act I. It was a little rough (they're not entirely off-book yet, and Act I is a bit rusty. Act II is just a black hole entirely, but they perk right up for Act III), but got through a good chunk of it before Director came back. He took over, things ground to a halt. I know we had some new people, but when you're doing a run, you do not stop. Every. Other. Line. Especially not to fix stupid little details. You take notes, and you tell them later. Preferrably as soon as you've finished, and then you let them take a break. What you do not do is say, "Oh, I'll give notes later. Here, someone help me build this crate while the rest of you take a half-hour break."
Actors notice when their time is being wasted. Even (or particularly) when they're not being paid. Luckily, I'm a note-taking fiend, and was able to go over everything with the leads (plus run the scene where Guildenstern is pretending to be Hamlet with Hamlet reading for Guildenstern. I admit it's confusing...) over the noise of a circular saw. But after that...? Nothing. Director wanted to let everyone go because he didn't think we'd have time to do another act. Hello! We're supposed to be running the entire show! And we're scheduled to finish off the set next Saturday. It took a slight hissyfit from the Player (ie, the choreographer from our last show who acts like the sun rises and sets on me) to convince Director otherwise.
Last night, we picked up from where things finally fell apart on Sunday (about three-quarters of the way through the black hole).
...
current mood:  frustrated
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| Tuesday, November 16th, 2004
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1:36 pm - Just when you thought it was safe...
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I'm sick and tired of things coming to head--personally, professionally, theatrically, dermatologically--so could it please just calm down and go back to whatever passes for normal around here? Thank you!
The situation with the freelancer has escalated, and she submitted a formal, written complaint after a fight with my boss. That means that HR has to speak with everyone involved, and since mine was the precipitating event, I got to spend part of the morning in the hot seat. Truth be told, he spent more time trying to calm me down than anything else, because it's just like being in the principal's office: even if you didn't do anything to get yourself sent there, you still feel like you must have.
Not long after I got back, my mother shows up at my office. Now, I don't care what's going on in my personal life, you DO NOT DISCUSS IT IN THE WORKPLACE. Think I need a better job? Yes, I know. Plan to kick me out of the house in six months? Nothing new, I could hear you through the floorboards last night. Don't want me doing another show? Fine, WHATEVER, it can wait until I fucking get home from work. Because part-time or not, it's still a job, and that's inappropriate behaviour.
When she didn't agree, I ducked into my father's department and sent him to deal with her. Then I went to lunch and didn't come back. Leave it to my mother to ruin Chinese food leftovers.
Plus, I have rehearsal tonight, at least for now (I hope she doesn't manage to take that away from me). We're getting into the final phase before tech week, which is akin to it being darkest before dawn. And my skin, thanks to my hormones (and stress), is a disaster area.
Right now, I just want this day to be over. That's not too much to ask, is it?
current mood: annoyed
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| Saturday, November 13th, 2004
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11:44 pm - Getting this one in under the wire...
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Spent all day working on set/tech stuff for R&G;. We managed to get the stage extension and platforms set up, masking flats installed, and lights focused, so the only major thing we have left to do is paint everything. Given the size of the cast, we had a rather large percentage of them helping, which not only made things go quickly, but rather more fun as well.
Besides, you have to love any activity where three women can be handed drills and left to their own devices. Also, I've officially declared the girl playing Rosencrantz as my personal Goddess. She showed up today with a package of tea bags, cups, a bottle of honey, and two large thermoses of boiling hot water. There we were: walking around, moving lumber and chatting about Hellblazer with cups of tea in our hands. Coolest cast ever, I swear. Unfortunately, the tea was more medicinal than aesthetic. We're blaming this as an act of bioterrorism on SwingBoy's part, since he came down with a "respiratory infection" a few weeks ago, and now that everyone's sick, he was conveniently not there. It would be ironic if I were the only one to escape, as I spend more time with him than anyone else, but since karma's a bitch, my throat's begun to hurt like one.
Still, I had more fun working today than I did on my not!date last night (not that that's saying a lot). Details when I'm awake, I promise.
Typical exchange from today:
Me: Wow, that's a funky smelling platform.
Producer: Everyone keeps telling me that. I can't say that I've put my nose to it.
Me: It's more the miasma of mildew around it.
(pause)
Guildenstern: I love that she just said 'miasma.'
On that note, I'd better go get some sleep, or else I'll never make it through (or to) rehearsal tomorrow. On our brand new platforms!
current mood:  exhausted, but satisfied
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| Friday, November 12th, 2004
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11:07 am - "When handling stinging insects, move very slowly."
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Well, my day got off to a flying start. Around 7:45, I got out of the shower, dried off, grabbed my bathrobe off the doorknob and popped it on, then headed for my bedroom so I could get dressed before the battle known as Drying My Hair.
...except, the second I stepped into the hallway, I realised there was something uncomfortable poking me in the side of the neck. I felt around to see if it wasn't the tag all twisted about, and my fingers brushed against something sort of hard, and knobbly...
Of course, I immediately thought, "GAH!!! BUG!!! NASTY INSECT IN MY BATHROBE!!! AAAAHHHHHHH!!!" but since I couldn't very well disrobe (er, literally) in the hallway with my father wandering about, I pulled the neckline away from my skin and sprinted for my room. I slam the door, pull off the bathrobe, throw it on the ground, and this HUGE FUCKING WASP flies out and takes up residence in the corner of the room. The same huge friggin' wasp that's been hanging around in the skylight of my bathroom all week (ten feet up and over the bathtub where there's absolutely no way I could get at it).
I scream. Naturally. I also shake out my robe like a hundred times and yell for my father to come slay the thing. Only, somewhere in there, it goes into hiding again, so now there's a great bloody stinging insect that's already shown a penchant for clothing and it's somewhere in my room.
I'm waiting for a giant welt to show up on my neck. I don't think it stung me, but I have a quasi-blind date tonight, and that's just the sort of thing that would happen to me.
In other news, Hot Intern burned me a CD, and my boss backs me up about Bitchy Freelancing Woman. I feel much better about that now.
current mood:  working
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| Thursday, November 11th, 2004
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3:42 pm - They told me there'd be days like this...
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Does it ever happen to you when, for no reason whatsoever, someone says something to you, and you suddenly start to shake? Your chest gets tight and you can't get your breathing straight, then the tears start and try as you might, you can't get them to stop, and the worst part is there are people around, and if you could just get them to leave you'd be fine, but they won't so you're not and suddenly there's a quaking wreck where a normally competent person would be.
I don't know why, but that's what hit me about five minutes ago. It came on all sudden-like, and I can't seem to fully snap out of it.
And I'd like to think that if it weren't this woman--this fucking freelancer that none of us can stand--pointing out my shortcomings, I'd be okay, but somehow, I'm not sure that's true.
I hate days when I feel like this.
...plus SwingBoy won't be at rehearsal tonight, so I can't even redeem my crap day for a hug.
ETA: Ah, there's nothing like tea, stale oatmeal cream pies, and a mutual bitch session with a co-worker to make one feel a whole lot better.
current mood:  crushed
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| Wednesday, November 10th, 2004
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4:56 pm - Baby, it's cold outside...
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I was toying with the idea of totalling my wordcount for posts this month, to see if I came anywhere close to my NaNoWriMo effort from last year. That way, I can make myself feel better about not doing any writing outside of the daily blog-whinge.
Then days like today happen, and I realise I haven't a chance of getting 35,000 or more words if they keep happening.
The most notable thing about today, so far, has been that some jackass one of my co-workers stole my pen. Haven't they learned by now? But, the culprit has confessed and given me my pen back, so all's right with the world without anyone having to shed blood.
Also, it's gotten bloody cold out. Actually, scratch that, it's bloody cold in here as well. Where last weekend I was still running about without a jacket on, now I have to shift into Eskimo mode. I don't know that I'm ready for it to be winter just yet (heck, I'm still trying to work out where the summer went).
Rehearsal last night was a near-shambles. Both leads ill, which not only limited the amount of blocking we could do, but our niggling costume issues went unaddressed because the costume chair is playing Rosencrantz. They weren't serious issues, but it goes down as the only time I've ever seen a group of actors remember all of their props/costumes at the same time (that'll never happen again...). We let out early, but even so, I got home ridiculously late after a two-hour talk with SwingBoy. I'm not knocking it; it was the best part of rehearsal (actually, it's the best part of any rehearsal).
But!--calloo, callay--we are finding Tradegians! In a very happy accident, one man got the Picasso... audition dates mixed up and thought they were last night. We cast him on the spot. Easiest audition he'll ever have.
Hmm, perhaps not such a disappointing wordcount after all...
current mood:  cold, but oddly warm inside
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| Tuesday, November 9th, 2004
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2:36 pm - "I want to be a Producer/ Because it's everything I'm not."
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Somedays, I just don't know when to shut my mouth.
It seems I'm now producing the theatre group's next show, Picasso at the Lapin Agile. Oh, and I might be stage managing Bye Bye Birdie in the spring.
There's also some kind of crud on my sweater.
More later.
current mood:  overwhelmed
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12:26 pm - The Finicky Gourmet
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I thought the broccoli-eating thing was a bit of a fluke, but for dinner yesterday, we had a large shepherd's pie. It was from, I dunno, Costco, but filled with minced meat and mushrooms and veggies and topped with seasoned mashed potatoes and some sort of cheese.
I ate mushrooms and mashed potatoes. Willingly. And my gag reflex didn't trigger until after I'd finished.
I don't think you quite appreciate the severity of this. I am 25, and never, not once in my life, have I eaten mashed potatoes without it being some sort of cruel joke. Not only are they my least favourite food of all time, but I have problems consuming mushy food. It's the texture; I can't take it.
I knew there was something wrong with me when I started craving spinach all the time. It means... I'm becoming a responsible adult. Gasp! My paradigm has definitely shifted. I even applied for a corporate job yesterday.
Any flying pigs you see are not my responsibility.
current mood: hungry
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| Monday, November 8th, 2004
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10:54 am - Colour Me Strange
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Gacked from just about everyone:
1. Stop talking about politics for a moment or two.
2. Post a reasonably-sized picture in your LJ--NOT under a cut tag--of something pleasant, such as an adorable kitten, or a fluffy white cloud, or a bottle of booze. Something that has NOTHING TO DO WITH POLITICS.
3. Include these instructions, and share the love.
I found this picture while going through my uploaded files last night, and cannot believe I haven't posted it before.
Ruby, hoarding her Christmas pressies last year (yes, Christmas presents). One might even say she's embracing the spirit of Chrismukkah...
*****
In other news, ![[info]](http://library.vu.edu.pk/cgi-bin/nph-proxy.cgi/000100A/http/web.archive.org/web/20041125201531im_/http:/=2fstat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) slowfox is now Officially an Evil Genius and not to be trusted with a hot-air balloon. Oh, and I ate cooked broccoli last night. These two things are not related, but together, they might signal the downfall of civilisation (and, no, that has nothing to do with politics).
current mood:  bizarre
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| Sunday, November 7th, 2004
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9:01 pm - This is my desperate face
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If anyone out there knows someone in the greater Philadelphia region who would like to play one of the Tragedians in Rosencrantz & Guildenstern Are Dead, please please, PLEASE, FOR THE LOVE OF G-D, PLEASE let me know.
We need 2-3 men (somewhere between the ages of "high school" and "assisted living facility"), or women who can be made to look convincingly male, who don't mind acting out death scenes and not having any lines.
Rehearsal committments minimal; acting experience not necessary. With less than a month to the show, we've decided that if we don't find people soon, we're going to have to cut out large chunks of the play.
Help?
current mood: desperate
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| Saturday, November 6th, 2004
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3:10 pm - Tugging on Superman's cape
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I went to see The Incredibles last night, because, as an astute person once put it, I am Pixar's bitch. Unfortunately, even with my expanding social circle, I couldn't find anyone to go with me. ComicBookGuy was utterly broke, as was the Hot Intern. J.-of-the-broken-shoulder was in Lancaster, SwingBoy was performing somewhere, my parents were out, Mistral and her husband were recovering from colds, and WonderBoy refuses to watch anything animated.
So I went by myself. Misjudged how long it takes to get six dogs outside, got stuck behind slow-moving vehicles on the highway, made a wrong turn in the parking lot, and hit the ticket window at 8:49 for an 8:45 showing, then sailed into the theatre and into an available set mere moments before the Star Wars III trailer started. Sometimes, it really is all in the timing.
I had a grin on my face a mile wide, which caught the eye of a man two seats over who was there with his son. He offered me popcorn, introduced himself, and spent the entire film glancing over at me. I thought it was because I was in geekery-induced hysterics, but as soon as the film was over, he struck up a conversation and asked for my phone number. Now... I don't get this. I don't look that old (heck, I have a hard time remembering I'm in my mid-twenties now). He had to have been at least mid-thirties, possibly forty, and his son was at least in grade school. I gave him an e-mail address without my real name in it, because older men asking to "get to know [me] better" always strikes me as, um, weird.
The movie, by the way, was awesome. Pixar 0wnz me. The animation was astounding (the texture of the hair was so detailed, you could see the individual strands), and it had rich characters and a lively, well-paced story. I loved it: superhero jokes, voice acting, James-Bond-meets-Mission-Impossible score, everything. That said, I thought the Frozone character could have been utilized a bit more (you can never have enough Samuel L. Jackson), and the daughter's voice annoyed me until after the film when a bunch of pre-teen girls went past me and I realised that no, they really do whine like that. How quickly we forget...
Anyhow, I just looked at the time. Mistral's having a party tonight to celebrate their final mortgage payment, and I'm going to have to get moving if I want to get there early, since I still need to buy beer and get dressed. Except, not in that order.
current mood:  chipper
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| Friday, November 5th, 2004
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4:43 pm - Monotremata Mania
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11:05 am - Pie in the Sky
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Man, it's been a long time since I posted one of these...
find your inner PIE @ stvlive.com
C'mon, quiz-making people, don't you know I'm mince?! A bit nutty, soused with brandy, and a very acquired taste.
Putting aside the fact that I'm not overly fond of peach anything, I don't see myself as the sort of person you'd call "peachy." In any sense of the term "peach."
But now, I really, really, really want pie.
current mood: hungry
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| Thursday, November 4th, 2004
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4:18 pm - Post-Partisan Blues
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Feeling a little better today. Still sort of lost and adrift, but after getting together with CBG last night, no longer quite as isolated. We commiserated for a while, watched Billy Elliot and talked about sex, all of which did wonders for my psyche.
The head of Public Information printed me out this article on post-election depression. I found some comfort in it, but I have to say, the Indian buffet lunch he invited me to was a lot more effective. Mmmmm.
There was a large graphic in today's paper, with every county in the country color-coded by how they voted: a huge swathe of deepening reds with the occasional dot of blue. While it explains much of the logic behind the electoral college, it also reaffirms the residual feeling of being out-of-step. I can't quite get that picture out of my head.
I've been looking for moments of levity over the past 48 hours, but they've been hard to find. A boy in our cast (who I'm proud to call a friend, even if he is all of thirteen) showed up to rehearsal Tuesday night with a hand-painted t-shirt reading "Cheney/Bush 1984" on the front and quoting George Orwell on the back. He said he nearly got pummeled twice at school by kids who didn't get the joke. I found it hilarious at the time (did I mention he's thirteen??), which makes me kind of uncomfortable in light of the election fallout.
After rehearsal, we were reading the precinct's reports and saw that there'd been a write-in vote for "Donald Duck." We all laughed, and I predicted a win for "E. Fudd." I'm not laughing so hard now.
Then, on the way to work this morning, while my father and I were having a long discussion about the way of the world, I saw a car covered with bumper stickers. It had a leather pride flag and the Bear Brotherhood flag... next to giant "God Bless America" sticker. It was so seemingly incongruous--and yet so perfectly apt--that I cracked up on the spot.
Rehearsal again tonight. My hair smells like curry.
current mood:  blank
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| Wednesday, November 3rd, 2004
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10:35 am - E Pluribus Fuck You
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dorky
