Wii!!

Now, you can't say it like "wee" as in Scottish for small ala "wee bairn". You have to say it like "Whee!!!" - the sound you make when you bike down a hill or through a huge puddle.

For graduation, I bought myself a Wii. Because nothing says higher education quite like video games. I paid for it using money I that is no longer designated as car payment in my ledger. Because as of May, I had paid off my Civic! I also bought this as consolation prize for not working Semester at Sea, instead opting to temp in Athens. Now, Athens is a lovely town, but damn is it dull! So it's just been me and Wii.

I am getting better at Wii tennis, even though I still haven't learned the scoring system. Baseball would be more fun if I could throw something other than a fastball. (Watching lots of Cubbie-ball has taught me terms like breaker, slider, split, etc). But I LOVE Boxing. I still haven't lost a match. Mostly because I am ferocious, with absolutely no strategy. And it's a great work-out that is way more entertaining than running.

I also found a cheap copy of Rayman's Raving Rabbids, which has me laughing out loud on a regular basis. "Bunnies like disco dancing" is totally my favorite - big surprise. I wish I could explain it, but really, it's delightfully silly, and that's about the best I can do.

(dude, it's a bunny with a plunger!)

Borrowed some of Smokin' Fairy's GameCube games, although really, I have only been playing MarioKart. Because I like nonsensical racing games, and the sound Paratrooper makes when he's happy.

Currently coveting Wii Fit and Rock Band. But these are expensive, impossible to find, and just more equipment to fit into MY Civic in September. But anything to alleviate the boredom.

on Pandora: "Missing" - Everything But the Girl

Loafin' Like a Pro

I blame it on the Mondays. I actually did work at work, which was good, but somewhere along the afternoon, the mood tanked, I looked down and saw that I was wearing the cranky pants. Came home and took a nap, thinking the moody was the "marissa needs to go down for a nap". When that didn't work, I inhaled a candy bar. Well that didn't work.

I pretty much entirely gave in. Returned a bunch of stuff to the library, and have since been pretty much parked on the couch. Which I now moved into the middle of the living room so that I can simultaneously loaf on the couch AND play Mario Kart Double Dash. I'm in jammies and the big sweater Cheese Fiend made me, ignoring the dishes that need to be done. I gave in and had a happy meal for dinner, the remains of which litter the spool. I can honestly say that i feel alot better now that I am completely embracing the disgusting/loafing/whatnot.

Healthy habits can resume tomorrow. Although, I think B&J is on sale...

Freaking out the animals

This one is random, but after hearing two items to the same effect, I had to share.

All of these floods are freaking out the animals. In the midwest, the rivers are so swollen, and currents so strong that the carp are totally flipped and now hugging the edge. To the point where, if you were dumb enough to stand at the edge of a raging river, you could reach out and touch the carp. Just what they need - a human petting them - in case they weren't sufficiently stressed. (as reported on NPR)

And then this morning, the front page picture/article covers the devastating typhoon in the Phillippines. But the picture isn't your usual people on makeshift rafts, but rather pigs fleeing the flood. I don't know what panicked pork is like, but I imagine it can't be good.

(from msnbc.com)

Dumpster Diving

I will say that staying in Athens after everyone else has cleared out does have its perks. Admittedly, it did take a bit of getting used to.

I live in party-central. Which starts clearing out pretty much as soon as classes are over, and is completely empty by the Sunday after graduation. Hell, even that Saturday was kinda eerily quiet. Like if I saw a tumbleweed blow across Mill, I wouldn't even be surprised.

So now, the only people in my neighborhood are me and the people forced to clean up the disaster areas left by the undergrads. A truly unenviable job. But it's quiet and dark. There are no lines anywhere and abundant parking! Unfortunately, the library is on super-restricted hours.

But oh the dumpster diving! A scavenger by nature, this was a very exciting weekend. One yard was the designated dumping ground for all nasty couches. (Not everything can be as swanky as the rich kids' trash in Hoo-ville.) It was mostly super-disgusting trash, but I got a 19" TV someone didn't want to schlep. And I have my eye on a propane grill. Both of which will stay in Athens when I leave, but will make my summer much nicer. (OK, while I love the taste of a charcoal grill, it is a waste for just one person, and I am entirely too impatient to wait for the coals to get the right color/temperature).

And with the gorgeous weather of late, I am able to leave all the doors and windows open, play MY music really loud, and generally enjoy some downtime. The next task it to find playmates.

on the iPod: "Higher Ground" - Red Hot Chili Peppers

new normal

*Yawn*
Today is the first real day of work at my current temp gig, which is scheduled to run for 3-4 weeks, leaving me off right around 4th of July. It's been about 6 months since I did office work fulltime, so it's a bit of an adjustment.

Let me tell you what I think of being at work at 7.45AM. And what I think of having left my cup of coffee on the stove. Right now, I just wish Donkey delivered. A nice tall Shot in the Dark with a pump of chocolate. And maybe a bourbon bar. Especially because my body just wasn't buying the 11.30 bedtime crap.

I can't complain but so much since the office is a 5-minute walk from my house, which means I can go home for lunch or walk to Court Street. I am the transition admin, but I have been given free rein to reorganize everything as I see fit. Woot! Sadly, I am not allowed to surf the internet during our usually quiet days. Still have to work on that, and ideally some book-reading. Must bring iPod and speakers at least. And a book of sudoku. It's days and jobs like this where my efficiency can be a liability.

But it's something to keep me busy while all of my friends are away and until the Wii arrives.

Graduation - the details

Now that Athens has emptied out, peace reigns, giving me the chance to think more clearly.

Graduation was pretty intense. I am only now really recovering and processing.
I got out of work a bit early on Thursday, which gave me a jump on cleaning up my apartment for my guests. Washed a mountain of dishes, cleaned the bathroom, packed up a bunch of winter clothes and books for my parents to take home. Dug out the clean sheets. Domestic God and J. got into Athens after 10, and we were up generally shooting the shit till quite late.

Which was unfortunate, since we had to be up mighty early. Everyone had to be showered, dressed and assembled at the Convo at 8.30 to meet Domestic God's fam. But part of that involved multiple attempts to remove the wrinkles from the extra-chitzy robes. Hanging for a week only removed the plasticky funk. Taking them into the bathroom during a hot shower does nothing. The hand-steamer couldn't put a dent in it. Domestic God, the newest costume tech MFA, then hosed his down with wrinkle release, which couldn't touch it. So we hung the gown outside while we sipped tea/coffee.

(girls fussing over Dr. J)

Spent a while waiting in the heat, being steamed in our crappy gowns, watching everyone else fighting with their hoods, as I choked on my tassel. We didn't actually process into the over-ACed Convo Center for an hour, which gave us lots of time to find new ways to amuse ourselves. Lots of sexy scholar pix, playing with our silly sleeves and such.

(lookie - we're seals!)

The ceremony was long, dull, but unlike the audience, we couldn't escape as readily. Amazing CoFA wasn't the last to be called. There were only 5 of us walking from Theater. But the announcer was pretty amazing, especially with all the ethnic names. Cross stage, shake hands, try not to trip, get paper saying "Your diploma will be mailed once we verify that you have completed all of the requirements." Oy.

Had to find the fam in the crowd, which is always a fun challenge. Hiked across the grass to the reception in a really pretty rotunda. They served WANGS, which made me happy. Mostly I was happy to be able to pee. So I unloaded all the crap out of my sleeves (camera, phone, "Sunny D," sunglasses. Although that still isn't as memorable dashing into the bathroom as we began to process (I was at the very end of the line). Kept smacking myself with my sleeves, trying to put my hood over my shoulder as I did a catholic-school pee, when Lil Sis runs in screaming that we are on the move. Which induced an unnecessary panic, since we still had quite ways to travel.

Steak with the fam. Mmm steak. Drove back from Parkersburg to hang out with my guests, which mostly consisted of us loafing on the couch, watching Indiana Jones on USA, eating cake and ice cream before totally passing out.

It was a great weekend, seeing people, eating well, and snarking in silly regalia. But in a moment of poetry, I have finalised my housing at UCSB this weekend.

Now I must create a new normal, if only temporarily, for this summer.

on the tube: the Tony Awards.
(I feel a little part of it, if only being part of the Chicago theater scene that supported August: Osage County before it became a phenomenon - even if Steppenwolf wouldn't let me have tickets.)

Graduation - a quickie

I got up early. I sweltered. I walked. I sat. I ate. Cake. And bed.

Last Thursday at the Gator

As the end of the school year rapidly approaches, the work has decreased, and the population of Martini Night has increased. Lil Sis and I met Riff at the Gator for a last supper of sorts (appropriate for a Thursday night) and watched people trickle in.

It was mildly disturbing when a stream of shufflers staggered in, covered in sharpie and bleach-blondeness. While I am not exclusive about the Gator, they did seem out of place in the more lounge-like Gator where all the artsy people hang out, they don't have anything "on tap" and the floors aren't sticky. Their uniformity was also kinda creepy. All the girls were dressed exactly alike, with tick-marks for each bar, and a couple of offensive things scrawled across them. I can't say I helped the situation when I put my sharpie on the table, a temptation that one of the playwright's just couldn't resist.

(looking very pleased with his handiwork)

While the 3 of us had come for dinner, one of the stage managers brought a sheet cake to celebrate all of the June birthdays, of which there are a hell of a lot. We didn't have candles, but like good theatre people, we improvised with what we did have. The cake was over-the-top sweet, and as Guy Smiley pointed out, even tasted pink. But in a strange way, it went well with all of the girly drinks we all ordered.

(me, a birthday boy, a stage manager and a grasshopper martini)

It was a blast seeing all the different populations of theatre people at the bar. Although I did really want to smash my drink over one of the IART PhD turds when he said he was really interested in the feminist point of view, which is extra offensive given his behavior in class towards the women. Oh well.

Now I am spending the first of many lame Saturday nights at home in the jammers. Rented movies in the background, currently writing a paper.

on Pandora: "Love Me Like You" - Magic Numbers

Depositing

The word has so many connotations, all of which delight me in terms of my thesis.

Today was the official deposit deadline for your thesis. The electronic age kinda sucks some of the fun out of that one, because you just whip off an email with attachment instead of plunking down 20lbs of thesis on a counter at McKee. But thesis deposit. It's like gold deposit. Something valuable, hidden, waiting to be discovered by more than the 5 people who have read it. Deposit like a bank. Put something valuable into storage until it accumulates interest and you use it as capital for something else, like a job or credentials.

Or my favorite. Deposit, like dump, like shit. Which seems to hint at its origins much more closely. While I love the notion that my thesis is valuable, I still recall moments, evenings, hours where I felt like I was just laying bullshit on the page. Along with the "I can't believe they are buying this bullshit." Followed closely by "I can't believe I wrote/believe my own bullshit." Usually accompanied by a "I bullshit pretty well."

In the meantime, the gowns are airing so they smell slightly less like plastic and more like my Oust fan, which they have been locked up with. At first I was pissed, because the regalia looks just like my BA stuff. Till I noticed the pointies! Pointy sleeves. Pointy hood. Think elf-pointy. It just makes me crave my doctoral tam all the more.

Step away from the feminism

After spending weeks dealing with the practicalities of my thesis, I am finally able to get back to my feminist theory independent study. I love theory! It's fun to wrap my brain around. Or find humor in the profundity, accidental or deliberate. Helene Cixous' "Laugh of the Medusa" was just brilliant and deliciously snarky towards the end. Ask her what she thinks about penis envy!

But I think I might be a little to into it given my reaction to this:


Driving back from the sleep doctor (who wants to give me drugs to help me sleep better, which last time I checked, I was pretty damn good at already), I saw this sign and it made me all uppity.

1. Why would the egg want to be eaten?
2. Egg = Ovum = Symbol of female
3. Egg/Female only aspires to be commodified, consumed and physically transformed into something unrecognizable, but uniformly acceptable.
4. Can't the egg/female aspire to greater things than serving someone else's needs?
5. Egg wants to stay in the kitchen - bad feminist egg.
6. Why does the mean get to be on top? Is this about male dominance?
   

I quickly also added to that list, "since when are eggs sentient enough to dream let alone know about McDonalds?". I then reminded myself that it was a food product and a freakin' billboard.

Screw the Egg. Pass the Elin Diamond, please.

PS. I just saw an ad for freakin' dishwashers using tango.

Stormy

All of the sudden it's very quiet. But storm season is upon us. I remember during VSF, without fail, it would storm at 4PM. It was practically a cue to start to finish projects and clean up. When I was working last summer, it was a bit more inconvenient, since it wasn't always done storming by the time I had to wait for the bus at 4.30. Right now, as I sit in my little 2-window apartment, I very much miss my room in Chicago with the wall-o-window and skylight that made storms so much more sensory. The tin roof here is a nice touch, but I can't here it from my bed, and nowhere in my apartment provides the amazing vista of a rainstorm that my Chicago room did. And as a bonus, I could see the Hancock Tower light up. Although I remember watching lightning from the Geek's room, overlooking mountains, which was also pretty spectacular.

Instead I sit and read my radical feminism while my socks, shoes and jeans dry in the bathroom from the drenching 3 feet between Lil Sis' car and my door. And I wait for it to stop raining enough for me to take my trash out without having to change every stitch of clothing all over again.

Also making me a bit homesick - Wing Nite. BW3 has Wing Nite on Tuesdays, like Redmonds, but it's pricier, the service blows, and it just isn't as tasty. And they don't have 312 on tap or the Cubs game within earshot. *sigh*

My owwie

It's been a while since I had a good bloody wound that involves neosporon (like skin glue lite) and multiple band-aids. Right now I am gimping around and admiring my newest scar-in-progress. Partially because I am letting it breathe/scab over. Partially because I am pissed that I am out of fun band-aids. And partially because I am weird like that.

Like most of my wounds, this was totally the result of my own dumbassed over-confidence. Swinging from vines and such. And once again, freakin' bricks were my downfall. Literally. Like Williamsburg, Athens is partially paved in locally-made brick. Which makes it photogenic, but a total wreck on your car's struts and my ability to walk in heels. I am not new to the brick-walking, and most of the time, I handle myself well. Athens adds the challenge of hills. And O'Betty's. So after a fun night at the Gator, after seeing Inherit the Whole, I kinda bit it.

Saturday night was remarkable for a couple of reasons, including my failure to remain vertical. It was a different crowd at the bar, including my professor (who never comes out, but should), some actors, Lil Sis. I think there were only 3 rounds, which was enough to have my professor offer to introduce me to Jill Dolan, Lil Sis to mingle with apparent strangers, Woolly Willy to defend his taste in rap music and me to crave even more O'Betty's. I cleared my tab and headed over for some fries. Then I walked home. But not without falling.

(apparently I wasn't the only one doing some falling down)

So I landed good and hard on my left knee because I caught my left heel in the bricks, because I wasn't focused on the act of walking downhill on bricks in my shoes. (Which get so many compliments, and are still totally walkable!) I felt like the drunk sorority girls we all make fun of. But I managed to take a knee and still not drop a fry. And I walked home with both my shoes on, thank you. It wasn't until I got home that I realised the damage. And because of my stupid knee, I missed out on the post-party, which apparently was extra-festive.

I will have a nice knee scar to add to the collection. Because it wouldn't be life experience without a physical souvenir. Right now the wickedly bruised patella hurts more than the cut and scrapes. But tomorrow, I am so heading to the CVS for more fun band-aids.

on Pandora: "Incinerate" - Sonic Youth

Titus Fives

Themed fives tend to be the most fun. After drooling over the Julie Taymor book at last week's fives, we decided to have a viewing of Titus, which became the theme of the week. First, if you haven't seen Titus, sign-off right now and rent it. It's BRILLIANT! Amazing visuals and creative storytelling.
For a while, Titus was going to happen at my house, but Rardin, with its grill and big TV was available. The only problem with the grill at Rardin, besides its propensity for catching on fire, it is placed right under a tree that sheds. Which meant that I held an umbrella over Riff while she basted the cherryaki chicken. I have discovered that as our numbers dwindle, the quality of food has really gone up. We have moved beyond burgers and dogs (which are always yummy) to chicken, gourmet bacon burgers, bruschetta, etc. For my contribution, I brought homemade deviled eggs and key lime pie. Because if there is Titus, there must be pie. Lil Sis brought cherry pie with vanilla ice cream and kahlua, after a pie-crisis at the Kro.

We watched the movie in fits and starts, mostly broken up by the next thing to come off the grill. It was fun to play with people, and to discover who will still be in town over the summer.

on the Tube: Rockies @ Cubs, bottom of the 4th.

I am a Master!

Unofficially, of course.

I'm mildly surprised that I have only now gotten around to blogging this. Partially because I wanted a little bit of distance from the thesis. Partially because the whole thing was surprisingly anticlimactic.

After a week fighting with my thesis, racing around, getting it all finished, I finally I submitted my thesis to my committee two Fridays ago. Pulled an all-nighter, raced around Kantner getting it printed, punched and submitted with Lil Sis. I wish I could say I went out and celebrated, but really, I just crashed until I had to ush.

The following Tuesday was my defense. Call me arrogant, but I can't say it caused me much concern. The hard part is the writing. I can bullshit and charm much more readily. Lil Sis and I had lunch and coffee together. Sat in on her defense. Had a brief moment of panic when I realised that I didn't have a hard copy of my thesis in my bag. So between defenses, I made a quick copy. The defense went pretty well. I was able to elaborate on my research. And now I have a list of even more things I want to do with it. But I will leave that for the dissertation.

There were congratulations, and some nice compliments (people didn't expect 1-year MAs to be able to compose such good theses).

Now, I just have to finish the rest of my classes. I get to go back to reading theory and loafing around with way less guilt.

Sleep study

This sleep study is definitely one of the strangest things I have ever done. I had more test anxiety about the evening sleep test than about my SATs.

This is how it works: Arrive at the study center at 8.30 (it’s about an hour away from Athens). Fill out paperwork. Then the tech spends an hour gluing 25 sensors all over me. Literally. I counted. And the glue is the consistency of Crisco, and all up in my hair and face. All of the sensors are plugged into this box I can wear around my neck. Basically, I look like Frankenstein’s monster in jammies, and I feel like a human bomb. Add this to the fact that I can’t wash my face, which feels like an oil slick, probably from hanging out with the Crisco glue.

So they shove this thing up my nose and turn out the lights and expect me to fall asleep at 11PM. Given that I am a vampire, I am just getting started. But I can’t sit up, or wear my glasses, which seriously limits my options. And despite getting all excited about being able to watch Mystery Diagnosis, they’re all repeats.

In case being put to bed at 11PM wasn’t rough enough, they woke up me up at 5.30AM. I don’t even remember the last time I woke up that early. Stayed up that late, perhaps. It didn’t help that I spent most of the night worrying about ungluing one of the electrodes, or gluing my face to the pillow, or strangling myself with my wires. Oh, and knowing that someone was watching me “sleep,” albeit remotely and infrared.

Day study: Every 2 hours they let you take a 30 minute nap. One paper, this sounds awesome. In reality, it blows. Partially because I am so disoriented from the odd sleep schedule and no windows. Partially because I don’t take catnaps—I take lion naps. And partially because by the time the nap rolls around I am either finally awake or so stupid sleepy that 30 minutes won’t do. Oh, and it’s always less than 30 minutes. Grr.

It’s super frustrating because the room is really small, and I am still hooked up to my circuit box. Making most physical activity kinda impossible. Like I tried a bit of yoga but nearly gave myself a face-concussion with the box. So I am pretty much limited to the bed for movies/TV/book. Except for the fact that my Pavlovian response to reading is sleep. And because I don’t have a table or different, non-sleep space to read, it is pretty much impossible. Did I mention the total lack of internet?! So much for getting work done. Because I look like a messy freak, I don’t want to walk around outside the little blue room. The sleep center is attached to the normal offices, and shares a bathroom. And nothing says socially-awkward like padding into the bathroom in your jammies with your doctor and a new patient walking by. And sharing a wall with a coffee maker is such a tease.

I had made this deal with myself that after this I got to go to Target (it’s the closest one to Athens), but looking and feeling as gross as I do, I think I will ask for a paper bag, cut eye-holes out, and dash to my car to drive back to my shower in Athens. On the plus side, I think I figured out how to pay for a Wii.

Nice weather+free time = Productive

At first I thought it was the holiday weekend, but that wouldn't make any sense, since the point of holidays is to chill. I have my first tan/burn lines from reading outside. It's a bit tricky when you don't have someone to slime you, but Spamber recommends the spray slime. With all this gorgeous weather, I have all the windows open. My apartment smells fresh, with the airflow and all the laundry and dishes done.

Yesterday, I was burning through my to-do list, today I headed back out to the river trail for some intervals. I heart my iPod. The only bummer is that part of the pretty weather is the pollen count. So as I am busting into a run, I basically am inhaling/swallowing lots of pollen. So most of my sprints end in some hacking/choking as I catch my breath and cope with the infusion off crap in my lungs. But it's too damn gorgeous to think twice about it!

on the Tube: Dodgers @ Cubs in the top of the 6th.

Downtime with the Designers

The past week has been largely populated with dinners and playtime with the designers. And designers are more fun to play with anyways. It's the end of the quarter, and most of the designers are shipping out early for various summer gigs around the country (Colorado Shakes was this weekend's exodus).

Tuesday night was the weekly BBQ out with the horses. I think Tuesdays are the new Fridays, because Fives were dwindling, largely because everyone was in the theatre or totally wiped out. So there were a dozen people eating tacos and having appropriately inappropriate dinner conversation. And I was rendered speechless, which amused Smokin' Fairy to no end.

Wednesday we all headed out to Dash-M's gorgeous house for some jumbalaya and Rock Band. Smokin' Fairy set up the equipment, while the rest of us assembled the most amazing fresh fruit salad! 3 kinds of berries, kiwi, pineapple, watermelon. A veritable rainbow of fruit goodness. The jumbalaya was damn tasty too. Nothing overdressed. Just perfectly spiced rice, chicken and sausage. And Rock Band with all 5 players until our fingers fell off. Basically, we just determined if the volume or rock-out enthusiasm was too high if it freaked out the dog. And then I got to try MarioKart for Wii. Which is so going to be my graduation present to myself.

Thursday was the season finale of Grey's, so Smokin' Fairy and Ms. Smokin' Fairy headed over with pizza. And when the Honda commercial involving a guy encased in cement came on, she and I totally lost it.

Friday was a small Fives out near Albany. Which basically involved Riff's "extra crispy" hot dogs and Trivial Pursuit - Pop Culture edition. Riff, "Doug," G.Style and me coming from behind, once we really had the pie hunger. Oh, and there was this amazing chipotle hummus. We adjourned, and I headed out to the Gator to meet up with some different faces.

And last night, to avoid the speakers as big as me that were perched across the driveway, I got to have BW3 with Lil Sis and G.Style before heading out to see the new Indiana Jones. Which I was willing to let slide until the monkey scene. Oy!

But now that our numbers are dwindling, things will probably quiet down, letting me go back to work, the library and my loser evenings in front of the tube. It was a nice week after finishing an intense week of thesis.

on the Toob: SVU marathon!

TPRC - Telepresence Research Collaboration

Tonight the @Lab staged their telepresence event. The idea is to merge live performances in 2 different locations into a single web-broadcast, using Skype, AIM, webcams, etc. Combining video and audio components. We had tap dancers in one place reacting to a beat from a DJ in another place. With other synthesizers, keyboards, guitars.

OK. In theory, this was really cool. In reality, it was kind of a cluster&^$%. Lots of cable run, electrical cacophony, disorganization. The Union Arts location reeked of boy funk. The @Lab was crowded with a bunch of people who wanted to participate or spectate. Too many musicians, not enough organization.

Originally, I was supposed to be in on the artistic team. I suggested contact improvisation (the whole point is to adapt to a constantly changing environment. And then you could motion-capture if you wanted). But I never heard of anything else. Then I found out they needed a stage manager (from Smokin' Fairy who was doing most of the engineering for it). I'm still not sure what my duties are/were beyond moral support and pizza pickup, but hey. If nothing else, this project was nothing like anything I have ever done - theatre and dance are different animals.

Now I do some dishes and prep for my defense.

on the Toob: SVU

Poetry

2 shots of espresso and 2 refills of coffee
no place open at 5.15AM when i finally realise that i'm hungry
birds are chirping, but the steady rain is oddly zen and focusing
1 conclusion and infinite finesses left to do
T minus 8 hours and counting
oh gloria, i will survive
in one piece or many
but hopefully showered

on iTunes: "Lovely Head" - Goldfrapp

Mad thing

The fact that I slept through Theater History today should have been a clue that I should just stay in bed all day. And even on my worse vampire night, I have never missed class. So much so that my MA "Little Sister" actually came to my house and called to make sure I was ok. Not even the bright green pants could save that one.

For a few hours, I pretty much was in constant motion. When I got up at noon, I was shuffling around. Spent an hour at the Convo Center dealing with the Research & Creative Expo. First I didn't have a display board to use. Then when I got the board, it was too damn big to fit into the car. So in the end, I used a whole hour and accomplished nothing. Raced over to my thesis meeting, which of course was positive, but I still have alot of work to do in less than two days. Ran up to the CAD lab to print stuff for my Deathtrap presentation. Ran back downstairs to give my advisor a title for my thesis (so hate titles). Ran up to the lobby to meet my actors, then find space, take photos for my thesis. Actually, this part was fun. My two actors were really easygoing and ready to try anything. I just wish I had more time to actually teach them some tango. Then assemble Deathtrap packets. This was 4.30 when I was done.


My judging time at the Expo was 5.45 with nothing printed. I totally forgot that judging was tonight. I have also been so damn preoccupied with my thesis, I wasn't as on top of things as I would have liked. By the end of the run-around, I was pretty much ready to let things slide, but the only thing that would drive me more crazy than winging-it would be blowing it off entirely.

Blew home, inhaled a slice of pizza and half a beer, photoshopped some images. Dashed over to Kinkos, where a very nice lady helped me. Waited for some stoner to finish with the paper cutter. Rush to Kantner to print text off a Mac. Then fly over to the Convo as I frantically post my stuff, throw up my display as my judges politely stall.


I guess I really wanted to do this because I am really proud of the quality, quantity and breadth of work I did on Macbett. And the images are awesome.

But actually, my day was pretty much saved by the weekly BBQ out with the cows. Yummy (free) food, snarking with people, and having my favorite beer. On one hand, I could have used those 3 hours stressing about my thesis, but somehow, I think this was a better use of time actually. Now I just make a pot of coffee and wait for the thesis to slow down enough for me to get at it.

Stalking my thesis

My relationship with my thesis has turned adversarial. I am trying to sneak up on it to tackle it, wrestle it into submission, then make it pretty. I have discovered that Thesis tends to let its guard down around 2AM. My weapon of choice is my new green pen and heavy objects to hold down said thesis, lest it try to escape.

Currently, I am on hold with the Annex, being subjected to the Muzak version of Phantom, which I don't particularly love in the original. I am trying to track down a back issue of a periodical, because the original request got lost. And the library doesn't understand why I am miffed that it takes a week to be told they can't find what is a primary source that needs to be included in my thesis, which has to be printed and in the hands of my committee by 1PM Friday. I am about to put on the bitch boots and find the damn thing myself.

Also, let me tell you what I think of MLA right about now. Inconsistent, trivial and generally a pain in my ass. The Writing Center and I looked up how to cite non-text media, and found about 3 different variations. There's no point in buying the MLA style guide, because they keep changing it, or contradicting themselves. Reminiscent of my uniquely Classical problem of who to cite - the original Greek author, the translator, or the editor of the anthology.

Currently trying to schedule a photoshoot for my thesis, and sweet talk TAD into letting me include the images as "figures" within the body of the text, because I hate appendices.

OK. I think they found my book. Now I need to find shoes and get over there before they lose it again.

All dressed up

After spending weeks in paint-spatter, blacks or jammies, opening night provides the perfect opportunity to prove that you are capable of looking like a stylin' adult. We're talking laundry, mandated-showers, ties and heels. It's quite the sight to behold.

Friday night, I was very sad I forgot my camera, because the students of the School of Theater were looking pretty damn hot. I saw a pimp suit (on the most unlikely person), a guy with better legs than me in a mini-sweater dress, shoes I covet. And I busted out the nice jewelry and makeup. And apparently shocked the hell out of people by wearing a skirt.

I saw the first act of Knock Me a Kiss, which I thought was pretty good. I was more excited at the turn out of people, particularly students, admittedly most of whom were SOT. There were a couple of moments I liked, and the actor playing DuBois has a gorgeous voice. Maybe this week in my ushing adventures, I will see the second half! Before it's big NY transfer!

on Pandora: "An Honest Mistake" - The Bravery

A walk on the wildside

or Palmer/Mill.
Sometime around 11AM the ambient street noise started. Not unlike the Amnesty festival last Saturday. And I suspect it won't die down until tomorrow.



Palmerfest has vomited all over my neighborhood. There are cheap beer cans, drunk hoochies and red frat cups everywhere. The stench of Natty Light and boy funk wafts up the street with a good breeze. And as a diversion from my thesis, I decided to take a walk, and my camera. It was pretty damn amazing. People on houses, dueling cover bands, and the street the cops have pretty much given up on. All of the houses are overflowing with people, and are all clearly marked with their token "You must be 21 to drink" signs. And some other klassy signs as well. Best guess - either the beginning or the end of Greek week. All I know is that it is a big enough party that the Burrito Buggy has relocated from the corner of University/Court to Stimson/Palmer.

But it does make me miss all the street fests in Chicago during the summer. Every weekend was another event, which forced you to be outside and social. But they all had much better beer options.

But it's a good day. Sunny. My Cubbies won again. And hopefully I will get back to Chicago in a couple of weeks.

on Pandora: "Pieces of the People We Love" - the Rapture

Overreacting

Some things really shouldn't bother me as much as they do. Especially when they aren't my problem.

Situation #1. Sitting outside on the Virgin blanket with my Said primer. Nothing like some light reading while sunning/photosynthesizing. Overhear fight between girl and boy. Basically, she does alot of nice girlfriendly things for him, and he doesn't acknowledge it because (and this is a direct quote) "I'm just not that kind of guy." There was a fight. And what I really wanted was to go up to this girl, calmly explain that she was being completely reasonable, and PS, this guy is a turd who should be flushed promptly.

OK. I don't know why exactly this bothered me as much as it did. It's not my problem. Maybe it's all my feminist theory. Or the fact I have a few years on her. But fundamentally, I hate the idea that this guy thinks his behavior is acceptable, and that this girl will continue to let other people treat her like crap. But since I have a hard enough time not being inappropriate, I decided not to make it worse than it already was. Although when I saw the punk in the library it took every ounce of self-restraint not to share some of my views with him.

Situation #2. Apparently Blockbuster thinks I have profoundly bad taste in movies and that I am too irresponsible to return my stuff on time. I noticed two charges on my Visa from a Blockbuster store that I have not been to in YEARS. Call them. They said they initially charged me a late fee for Apocalypto. Do I LOOK like someone who would give my money to Mel Gibson to watch some racist epic? Then they realised their error and refunded MOST of the money. The guy didn't understand why I was so upset about $1.32 that I was out for a non-refundable "restocking fee." Here's a thought - I never rented the damn movie in the first place? At a store that is hundreds of miles away? It's $1.32 to you, but coffee/life blood to me. I have since canceled my membership; encouraged others to do so as well (and take a careful look at their credit card statements); and I will be writing a marissa-special letter to them when I am done with the thesis.

But I have set up my UCSB account, found some great new sources for the thesis, which I hate less now.

Drunk mommies

This weekend featured not one, but two big OU traditions/events - Palmerfest and Mom's Weekend. Palmerfest is pretty much a ginormous block party. Living in the middle of party central, I was really afraid of the possibilities Palmerfest presented. I had visions of all day-night parties, loud/bad music and evidence of puking. Fortunately, this was less of an issue since I spent most of the weekend in Nelsonville working on the dance show.

What I was not prepared for - Mom's weekend. I didn't realise what a huge event this was. I expected lots of brunches and such. But driving the stage manager, I saw a peek of Court Street, which was mobbed. So Smokin' Fairy, one of the LDs and I headed there for some spectating. The boys got felt up. I took my camera. It was hilarious. Drunk mommies everywhere! All the alcoholic apples falling not too far from their trees. Drunk mommies and daughters shuffling. Drunk mommies being taken home by frat boys. Girls so hooched out and smokerly they are mistaken for moms. Oh the frivolities.

(frat boy with SOMEONE'S mom)

"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