"Native" pride

Just read an article on chicagoist about local bars that made the 125 Places to Get a Beer Before You Die list. And I have been to 3, drunk the product of a 4th. I shouldn't be as pleased as I am. But blame Kallisti.

It was almost as satisfying as getting a little snotty with some punk trying to hit on me with his vast Chicago knowledge. Talking about he works in Chicago every summer, when he means Evanston (it's close but NO cigar). How suburban of him. Then he bragged about going drinking in "Cubbyville". To which I had to ask, "And where is that?" He meant Wrigleyville (which is not my favorite place to go drinking, unless you WANT to get felt up by a frat boy). I couldn't resist calling him out on his stuff because he was just so pleased with himself.

I miss the city and hope to get back for Mayfest and a Cubs game in a month or so. Because nothing beats Chicago in the summer!

on Pandora: "New Genious" - Gorillaz

My theatre roots

This week I picked up a gig working on a dance show in Nelsonville, which has been a nice diversion (and source of income). Factory Dance is putting on their spring concert, and I am the backstage manager. And unofficial ME.

Monday night, I spent a few hours hanging a mutating light plot. This involved 3 electrics on stage, some really ancient equipment and the perpetual challenge of finding enough circuits for everything. I had the stage manager, the facilities manager, and a couple of volunteers. I love having volunteers, but I hate just having them stand around, so I sort of took charge, by assigning tasks. I don't think that is technically what I supposed to do, but it needed to get done. My only regret is not taking the time to teach the volunteers with more accuracy, although I am always a proponent of "Get-it-done" theatre. For focus, I was in the air with my 6", and the 4 of us knocked out focus in about 90 minutes. It was so much fun to be an electrician again! It's been ages since I got to do much wrench-slinging.

Now that everything is in the air, I am settling in to my backstage manager role. It's mostly herding. I had braced myself for much worse, but the tech schedule was perfectly constructed, I had teachers rather than parents backstage with the little ones, and at one point we were even ahead of schedule! However, since it has also been a while since I did stage management, I forgot supplies last night. So I have a nice long list of crap to pack tonight, including a vacuum cleaner, which isn't usually on the list, but when you have 15 little butts sitting on a NASTY area rug, it makes the list. Also have to remember the dance-specific stuff (barf bucket, ice pack, safety pins). But all in all, backstage is quiet, the rehearsals are running pretty smoothly so far, even if a bit long.

The dancing looks pretty good. The little tappers in their polka dots are adorable, even if it does minorly freak me out that they are dancing to "Straight Up" by Paula Abdul. A couple of the pieces are really cool. And one of the little girls looks exactly like my friend from pre-school.

Another funny part of this - I am working closely with two of my former students. Who I have always liked. I try to resist the temptation to be my bossy self, but sometimes it is called for and sometimes it's inappropriate. If the lighting designer needs a boot to the head to get back into gear, then a boot to the head I will provide. But the stage manager was one of my favorites from a past discussion section. Probably the calmest, lowest maintenance actor, super-intelligent and on the ball. Also makes carpooling easy since we're all at Kantner all the time anyways.

on iTunes: "Ghetto Ways" - Scissors for Lefty

Thesis vacation

After I submitted the rough draft of my thesis on Friday afternoon, I took a thesis vacation. Refused to think about it, mostly because I was so thoroughly disgusted with it. I have the love/hate relationship going on with it. Sometimes I love it, sometimes I hate it. Sometimes I feel both at the same time.

Friday and Saturday were total slug days. Spent alot of time lying around, watching movies. Played some Portal. It was nice to take some time off from writing or thinking too hard. Got to take a long, leisurely shower. Washed some dishes, enjoyed running the vacuum entirely too much, made some lists. Started easing back into work today. Getting back into some theory. If it was slightly warmer, I would have sat outside on my blanket in a bikini and read my radical feminism. Not particularly because I relish the bikini-ness, but I do love the irony.

OK. Now to send emails to my students.

Grumpy pants

OK. So Grumpy Pants aren't the best look for a Friday, but they have kinda glued themselves to my ass.

1. Currently staring down my thesis draft. and all I see is a pile of turd. Like it's embarrassing to think of other people reading it. Especially when those people are so damn nice and supportive and will do their best to find something redeeming about it instead of just acknowledging its turd-ness.
1. part of the problem is that I am so acutely aware of its turd-ness I can't even fix anything. I know this doesn't have to suck, but at this point, I'm not sure how to close the gap between what it is and what it can be.
2. I hate being an agency-obsessed perfectionist. Which is only exacerbated by my compulsive procrastination.
   
2. I want to call Semester at Sea and check on the status of my application, because "In Progress" means nothing to me. But for the same reasons I don't make alot of these "proactive" calls, I don't want to scare people with my enthusiasm. I do not need any help being labeled the crazy one.
3. The apartment is squalid, but apparently not enough to motivate me to clean it. Just grouse about the state.
4. In my attempts to focus on my thesis I only confirmed my old fart-ness by calling the cops on a party. In my defense - it was after midnight, on a now Friday morning, and I could hear the lyrics of some bad Whitney Houston song with all the windows closed and my music on.
5. Smokin' Fairy says that I am Lexie from Grey's because I am nesty and neurotic. I guess I am glad that I am also a character who would steal a TV if it wasn't bolted to the wall, or not cry-faced Meredith.
   

But it is gorgeous outside, and a bit warm for grumpy pants, so I may have to change into something else. And the disgruntled shorts are in the wash.

Flashback

Spring time means open windows. Open windows mean warm breezes, fresh air, and the sounds of everyone else's music tastes. I don't know if it some faux mellowness on my part, but it's not too bad. About an hour ago, someone had parked their stereo speakers next to their window to play the music while they were grilling. And it was Weezer's Blue album. OK. I love this album. It's fun. And without even thinking about it, I was thoroughly enjoying myself. Until I realised how slightly odd it was for college kids to play that album. I'm not trying to limit anyone in their tastes, especially when Weezer is such a fun band. But the album came out in the mid-nineties. These kids were maybe in 1st grade. The only thing weirder is the fact that I was learning to drive to this music. My old fart-ness sneaks up on me. But I'd much rather hear me some Weezer or Offspring than bad frat music or loud rap. Currently someone with a drumkit is wailing on it with mixed results. Then again, it's so damn nice out, I am totally willing to enjoy it.

But that way, I didn't have to worry about music to cook to. Made turkey burgers with jack, and mashed sweet potatoes. Wanted to round out with broccoli, but it wasn't looking so good. Now to scope out a vacuum (now that I am running around barefoot, I am way more aware of the yukkies). Oh, right, and finish the draft of my thesis. So if you have seen my slacker muse, put her in a fairy-cab and send her my way. All I can say is that chyck had better have been stuck in jury duty or someone's glove compartment or something...

Feist

Currently, I am snickering to Born Yesterday. Damn clever for a dumb broad. The original Legally Blonde. I love me some Judy Holliday.

Last night, the MAs took a field trip to get some lively culture. Dinner and milkshaky drinks then a concert at MemAud. Of course, musictoday tried to screw me. I thought I had bought the tickets back in February, but apparently it didn't go through. Fortunately, we were able to buy tickets at the door. The opener was pretty lame. I suspect his entire lack of stage presence was part of his shtick. However, it was totally worth it for Feist. Whimsical, entertaining, talented. Not a dance around and scream concert. But given that the lead singer was losing her voice, it was good that it was more of a sit down and enjoy the quiet charm. I was really impressed at how multi-talented the musicians were. So many different, interesting instruments - bells, Irish drum, different horns, etc. And there were 2 visual artists upstage playing shadow games on an overhead projector. Lots of nature imagery. Little girl with lots of presence.

How fun to hear and see something so beautiful structured that is so playful. Reminds me of Devon Sproule with more toys. I think it will make great driving music.

My love affair with Brecht

To combat the last post, I will rhapsodize on a German theatre theorist.

Crash course in Bertolt Brecht: German playwright/director/theorist who did alot of work in the 1920s-50s. Developed the concept of Epic Theatre, Berliner Ensemble. Wrote Caucasian Chalk Circle, Mother Courage, Threepenny Opera. And the more I learn about this guy and his work, the more I love it.

I first learned about Brecht in my freshman seminar at William and Mary. It was also my first taste of dramaturgy. Read alot of his plays and theory. While I intelligently understood his work, I can't say I totally loved it. However, the more I read it, the better I like it. Did up a whole directorial packet for Mother Courage for URTAs, and the whole play was illuminated when I learned that Anne Bancroft played the title character on Broadway. The concept was brilliant, lots of WWI art. And today's lecture made it even better. Meryl Streep as adapted by Tony Kushner (two of my absolute favorite, most intelligent theatre artists). Very comic/musichall. Which opens all sorts of new possibilities.

Also, the more I learn about Epic Theatre, the more I realise that it is how I identify with and process theatre/art. As an artist and scholar, I find that exciting. That I have matured in my tastes and sensibility. It informs what I do and how I do it. While I still wouldn't consider myself a political theatre person (in general, I don't particularly like art that delights in its politicalness), I do feel that I am more aware. Or at least I hope so. I think it's also why I have developed such a taste for modern art. It doesn't try to replicate some artificial reality. It is provocative and visceral (well, the good stuff is. the bad stuff just provokes giggles.)

OK. My theatre geek self is going to walk itself to the post office.

on iTunes: "Head Over Heels" - Tears for Fears

Cubbie Sunday

Quite by accident, today has become a Cubbie Sunday. Woke up just in time for the end of the national anthem at Wrigley. It wasn't even like I had planned on watching the game; I just turned on the TV for ambient teeth-brushing noise. And Cubs games make awesome ambient noise. Since I wrote some thesis last night and it was raining to hard to walk up to the library, I just flopped onto the couch and watched the Cubs spank the Pirates. It feels awesome to loaf on the squishy couch, dozing, listening to the thunder. So much better than religiously checking my Cub widget.

When I got home from mass, nuked some Indian for dinner, turned on the ambient noise, and it is the WGN 60th Anniversary special on the Cubs. It's so funny, because I have only been a fan for a year, but it is so much fun, so exciting. Good thing to have on in the background as I prep my menu and calendar for the week. Good to do sun salutations and stretches to. Good to sort through paperwork to. At least until after gym prime time hours.

There is something about Cubbie ball in particular (I don't find other games as much fun), and especially home games (with the ivy and Eamus Catuli sign), that is oddly familiar because its theatrical. Great energy, emotion, positivity. More than anything, it's the sense of community. Like everyone is in on it or something. It's sort of like opening night, because regardless of the miserable details, people are present and collective and such.

Summer job?

As I face the looming realities of summer, I realise that I need to get off my butt and find a job. I HATE looking for a job almost as much as I hate being unemployed. I have alot of variables and hindrances to reconcile. Do I move back to Chicago, pay double rent, and hopefully get a steady temp gig? Do I move into my parents' house, hope to find a job and simultaneously NOT go crazy? Do I sit in my nice, pre-paid apartment in Athens and do nothing? I would love to do a theatre gig, but since I graduate in mid-June, that eliminates alot of Memorial Day-start opportunities. mef.

I am thinking about trying to housesit for a UVA professor and maybe live/work in Charlottesville again. Not that the jobs are all that well-paying, but I love me some Charlottesville, esp the fireworks. It would be the first time I would be living "at home" in a while. And I could be back with some of my friends and family and surrogate pets and the dumpling shop. In terms of low-key, it is really appealing.

But last night, around 3AM, I submitted my application for another job, which is either AWESOME, or secretly hellish. Interport Lecturer for Semester at Sea. Basically, I would present lectures on the various ports we would stop in, offering my own perspective, as well as a general and interesting overview. I would live on a cruise ship and see a bunch of places in Europe I haven't seen. And ISTANBUL!!!! I could also be surrounded by a bunch of spoiled rich kids, no internet, and seasick for 2 months. I am really excited about the IDEA, but I still need to find out more. Like if I can even get the job. (which P.S. I am the perfect candidate for, given my grad student status, styles of research, travel and professional experience, etc.) And I look great on a boat.


It seems like an almost valid diversion from my thesis. Which has 5 days to be made into a first draft. But currently I lack that inspiration to write. Like I have no idea what to say. Maybe another cup of coffee and more tango music will light that fire.

on iTunes: "Desencuentro" - Tango Argentino OST

Token feminist

It would appear that the MAs have developed a reputation for being the disgruntled, overanalytical students who suck out the fun. In particular, I have become the resident feminist. This week, we read the longest running plays of the 1930s - Tobacco Road and Life With Father. Possibly the two most offensive things I have read in a while. Nearly broke the spine of one script, and spent hours wanting to punch Father in the kidneys. Tobacco Road is so singularly grotesque, disgusting with no one redeemable about the characters. But it gave me a chance to look up some more fun diseases like Pellagra. Life With Father just made me hissing angry at this patriarchical, control-freak jerk. So when someone tried to say that he was just misunderstood, my hand shot up so fast it made people across the room laugh. There was hissing and spitting and white-knuckle gripping of the chair as I fought the temptation to spew hate and gender theory. I can only hope what I consider a firmly anchored feminist consciousness mixed with either sleep-deprivation or a caffeine buzz, comes off as endearingly amusing or even thought-provoking instead of bat-shit crazy. Although I hear that bat-shit crazy looks good on me, maybe less so when it flies out of my mouth unhindered by things like social appropriateness or volume control. I must look like some Tourette's patient covered in cookie crumbs as I twitch and mutter a$$@.

Oh well. I am pretty unafraid to express myself. I love hearing what the playwrights have to say, and it's fun to be in class with some of the actors who provide a totally different response. I'm just visceral and uncensored. This may require a permanently sharpied public apology on my forehead.

Adding to the fun - I was having one of those mornings. Nothing like staring in front of the closet wondering what goes with khaki. And then when I go to put on my new khakis, I realise that I had my shoes on. Crap. I managed to look impressively adult for being so out-of-it.

Old Lady

It's never good when you go to bed a college student and wake up an old lady.

This morning I had my first mammogram. Strictly preventionary, taking advantage of my insurance. Mostly just to get a baseline reference. The suite was very careful to create a sense of privacy, no pink or crap. But it's still weird. Especially since I don't even have an A-cup to lay on to the little table. It seemed like the waste of a whole Xray film. But still jostled and mushed. I feel like a woman. Let me add this to the list of charming "grownup girl" experiences like shaving my legs, plucking my eyebrows and the annual appointment that makes me glare at my ovaries.

Got home and decapitated strawberries to put on my bran flakes. Shut up. They are cheap and filling. What makes me an old lady - they are oddly tasty.

Also, I think I might have been the oldest person at the barbeque that involved Smirnov Ice that tasted like candy and various grilled proteins. And AWESOME stories about dates gone wrong, and shop malfunctions. And drunkenly-constructed wedding dress plans.

Then I headed to Donkey to work on theses with the other MA. It was funny to be the grownup. And apparently Beck is the music of choice for the midnight oil, since we heard it at Donkey and pouring out of the Studio Art building at the bottom of the hill.

on the tube: SVU before more thesis

the $8.98 button

The only thing I like better than buying things I don't need is spending money I don't have. Ah.

Well, I sorta needed pants that fit. Because jammer pants aren't really socially acceptable, no matter how comfy. And Smokin' Fairy needed cargos. So we headed over the river to Parkersburg, WV which has more shopping options than Walmart.

Let me tell you how much I love Steve & Barry's. They have normal looking and even cute clothes. And everything in the store right now is $8.98. Cute black dresses, jeans, shoes. Ended up with a couple pairs of khakis and a cool blue shirt. To wear with my new wedges, (cheaper in store than online)which I bought in an attempt to look more like a grownup, despite the fact that Smokin' Fairy is totally certain I will never wear them.

Smokin' Fairy and I were delighted by the $8.98ness of it all, complete with the idea of extensive training on a single $8.98 button. Heh. Add that to the list of other fun, like the Jesus of Nazareth - Frat Boy webisodes (he turns water into beer!).

Now I fight the fatigue to do work. With Top Chef Chicago in the background making mildly homesick.

Mef

I realise that I have been a blog slacker. But this month, my days consist of sleeping too much and too often, running back and forth from the library, complaining about dishes, and not writing very much. It's really dull and frustrating. Even when I think I have something to say, what should be pages is more like sentences. Smokin' Fairy has been doing his best to keep me from working too hard. Like bringing over pizza and Fight Club, which I FINALLY saw last night. It was awesome, and I would like to thank all of humanity for not telling me anything about it other than that I would totally dig it. Fight Club = dug! Basically, until May, I am officially lame and mildly annoyed.

on iTunes: "I Am the Walrus" - Bono and the Secret Machines from Across the Universe

(which is spectacular!!!)

Drumline Madness

Wet wood

This writer's block is driving me crazy.

My thesis draft is due in 3 weeks. Which SOUNDS like a lot of time, but really isn't. Especially since the hours and days keep flying by without anything being produced. And I have a deadline every week.

I have given up on inspiration, and procrastination isn't an option. So I am trying some new tactics: listening to tango music; typing all my tango notes; drinking lots of coffee (which is rapidly turning yucky). I have my outline posted next to my desk, complete with page guidelines. But despite all these accelerants, nothing has really caught my brain on fire. It's like my brain is just a pile of wet twigs and mud. No matter what you do to it, it will not catch fire. It might smolder for a second and then re-extinguish. GRR! What I need is a nice thick log, properly dried hardwood, ideally fragrant that will burn consistently for a good while.

Smokin' Fairy has offered to watch some tango with me, to see if it would help to watch/explain tango to the uninitiated. And I have a Donkey date with the other MA who is also in the writing process. If anyone has any ideas or inspiration, I will cheerfully accept.

on iTunes: some random Argentine

Glory Box

cf: Hope Chest

Tonight, I got to see solo performance artist Tim Miller perform his show Glory Box at the Forum. Yes, here in little Athens, a real, live, exciting and controversial performance artist! One of the NEA 4 whose grant was revoked by Jesse Helms et al because the work was deemed an inappropriate use of tax monies because of its gay themes.

The show: alternately funny, insightful, risque but always brilliant and thought-provoking. I love performance art for its magnifying-glass attention to detail. One man's experience of discrimination against LGBT, but packaged in something terribly clever and interesting. He recalls his mother's Hope Chest and what that meant to him growing up. All the way up to the reality of being forced to leave this country because his partner has been denied a visa.

The talkback: How exciting to see activism in action! How exciting to see how art can be more than something pretty to look at! People signed petitions for the Uniting American Families Act, a bill in Congress that would allow for same-sex couples in which one was a non-national be allowed to stay in the country ala marrying for a green card. He talked about his own experiences, encouraged us to make our own. And really opened up the idea of glory box.

The theatre as glory box. A place in which you keep things that will be useful and relevant later. A place where your energies and hopes for the future are stashed. A vital space. And in my own geeky way, I can only hope that I help to contribute to that, since one of the things I love most about theatre is that it is one of the few places that is still safe for experimentation. A place to experiment with social ideas and identities within the safety of the confines and context of theatre.

Nefarious plotting

This quarter, I have a new guy subleasing the apartment with which I share a wall. The same quarter I need to write my thesis. This would be the day I live next door to a glorified frat boy. He permanently plays his music at 11. Even the freakin' Beatles. And while I love me some Beatles, I don't love it when I can here the lyrics while I am in the shower! So I have nicknamed my neighbor Thumper or Thumpy when I am being extra affectionate.

Unlike so many frat boys, this one believes in vacuuming. At 2AM. Probably before his drunk friends come over to hang out under my window. And talk loudly. Making fun of me. They party every night. The leave cheap beer cans on my car, and block the drive way. This is so many flavors of uncool. I am glad this guy only has 6 credits this quarter as an undergrad, but I have 18 and a thesis to write.

Since I refuse to move into the library while this guy lives his frat boy fantasy, I have tapped into my creative resources. Theatre people are both evil and creative. We also have access to seriously cool tools. Like killer amps, serious soldering irons and bright lights. Smokin' Fairy wants to set up some sound system against our shared wall and blare the most annoying music thinkable. Still taking suggestions. Doing it bug bomb style - set it off and get the hell out. G.Style recommended a weasel, as an homage to Big Lebowski. And the black militant playwright recommended calling in a drug raid, since inevitably that would ruin his night, and he probably has some anyways.

Even the fam is getting in on it! While I plan on trying to be the decent human, it is a little easier to to so with such bits of evil percolating.

WHOA!

I always knew I looked like my mom, but this is scary.

Spendy

Maybe by laying down some of this text, I will be inspired to write some thesis text.

I am not sure what it is, but of late, I have been extra spendy. Over break I realised how much I needed new clothes, which resulted in a shirt, 2 pairs of pants (one GREEN pair because the red was just too much look), a skirt and a purple dress. Of course, now I need the perfect white blouse and shoes and .... Coming back from Spring Break, I had a bag just full of books that I either bought or borrowed. Even stupid stuff like hair product looks good. Which is funny, since I have no more money now than I did when it was dark and cold.

Another thing I get spendy about - noise cancelling headphones. Apparently the apartment sharing my wall has been sublet to a frat boy who pumps the bass on EVERYTHING (Beatles? Seriously?) and who likes to have loud drunken 2AM pow-wows under my window on a Tuesday morning. And I guess the people across the driveway have started taking drum lessons. And this would happen when I need to write my thesis. In case I wasn't already easily-distracted. I may have to find some super-secret hidey-hole or just move in to Donkey.

on iTunes: Soma FM Downbeat House