1. My last post was, alas, a dream I had the other morning while I was sleeping on the couch in my basement inside of two sleeping bags. So, New York will just have to wait.
2. Conversation at 5AM while weighing jars of spices for inventory:
Me: Taste Adventure Split Pea Soup? Jamie: Yes, definitely. Me: No, but ... Taste Adventure? Jamie: Yes, it's an adventure ... You know the part in Star Wars where they're stuck in the trash compactor? Some people would call that an adventure. It's like that. Me: So, you're saying it's like a garbage adventure in my mouth? Jamie: Yes, that's what I'm saying. Reconstituted soup tastes like farts.
Somebody has to take a weekend off from ASTRONOME, and I get fitted for their costume just in time for the show to start. Unfortunately, the only thing anyone says to me about what I'm supposed to DO is 'Follow me.'
Luckily, Richard wasn't, for some reason, in attendance at this performance.
I get Brendan to promise to tell me what I'm actually supposed to do before the next night's performance.
I realize I have nowhere to stay while I'm acting in the show. I try desperately to remember how to get to Unoppressive Non-Imperialist Bargain Books, and start walking.
If you live in Minneapolis, please go to Toy Theater After Dark at the Open Eye tonight or tomorrow. You will be missing a really important opportunity to see some amazing works. (The good pieces were so good as to happily erase all ill will I might have had towards the not-so-good pieces.)
Lifting boxes and putting things on shelves all day makes me feel like a noodle. Not a wet, soggy noodle, but an al dente noodle that didn't make it all the way into the pot, so it still has some really crunchy spots.
This crunchy noodle needs to settle into her schedule, take more satisfying naps, get a new set of knees, and feel some spring air on her face. Possibly, this crunchy noodle needs a vacation.
I drank some of this at room temperature (serving suggestion is chilled). Slightly chalky, but not as chalky as rice milk. Definitely nutty, a little bit sweet, apparently from a brown rice sweetener. Steamed for a latte, not quite as neutral a canvas for the coffee as soy, but my taste buds are pretty used to soy at this point. Made for a nutty cup of joe.
Michael Angelo's Roasted Chicken Bolognese
The pasta was nicely al dente, and the tomatoes were flavorful. The chicken's texture was a little bit lacking. Not bad as far as frozen pasta dishes go, although I need to remember to put frozen meals in a proper dish if I'm to feel like it's a real meal. Oh, and it was on sale. That makes it taste better.
Try their vanilla yogurt. Try it by itself before you go adding anything to it. I mean it. Delish.
I need someone who knows me really well to recommend something new for me to listen to. Specifically, something you can burn for me and send me in the mail? Yeah? I need some fresh tunes in my life.
I straightened products in the baking/snack/cereal aisle today, and there are things that I've never, ever noticed, for all of the co-ops I've frequented in my life.
I feel like trying everything in every aisle that I've never had before. Even the gross stuff. Just so I know what it's like. So, once I get some money in my wallet, I'm going to enjoy a little food self-educating, and I'll let you know what I try and how I like it.
I think it's going to take me a long time to figure out where everything is, but as far as first days go, this one was pretty good. And I got found a free orange, a free loaf of sunflower bread, a free cookie, and a free Ginger Spice tea bag before I hit the road.
I'm listening to recordings of my dad playing songs for my friend Megan.
I can hear Megan laugh sometimes, at jokes that I'll never know because I'm not there, and that makes me happy.
I wish we were sitting on my mom's porch, perched on the railing, while my dad plays and I sing along, drinking delicious beverages and feeling glad to know each other, and glad to be alive. You and me and everyone we know who likes that front porch.
***
In other news:
No need to worry, I have another part time job, one that will make sure me and mine are fed full of good foods all the time.
I think that the student DJ on the radio today is playing exactly the same set he played yesterday. Cause I know I heard something by the James Taylor Quartet AND a string version of 'Ding Dong! The Witch Is Dead' yesterday when I was working.
* I've got a brand new pair of *ice* skates, you've got a brand new *?*...
* Astronome at the Ontological looks awesome. Three friends are in it. Who wants to take me to New York on a little vacation to see it?
* I may become a grocery stocker. I may also become counter help at a French bakery that is very far from my house, but I hear makes great French eats. I may, if possible, go on tour doing plays for children.
* My birthday is in one month and one week.
* I still haven't sent out those challenge prizes. Damn that procrastination gene.
* We're making some petite performances. We're thinking to the future. Kevlar, are you thinking about containers? Dawn, remember when we were thinking of eggs and adolescence? I'm about ready to start sitting in cafes that aren't the one I work in, sipping hot drinks and thinking of objects and space.
***
Notes on living:
1. Eat lots of vegetables. 2. Go for walks. 3. Shovel the snow. 4. Clean your bowl right after you eat out of it, even if the dishwasher is full. 5. Plan your garden to dream of spring. 6. Play on the ice to make a dream of winter. 7. Change your socks before you go to bed.
I am excited to see my mom and dad, my aunts, my grandparents, my uncles and cousins and second cousins. I am excited to eat delicious food and have hugs and dancing to jazzy Christmas music all day long. I'm excited to see Kyle and laugh until I can't breathe and see my old schoolmates and tell them over and over that yes, it's effing cold in Minnesota, and yes, I did actually quit smoking, thanks.
I'm excited for a road trip with two of my favoritest friend people.
Heck, I'm excited for the little drive South with another one of my favoritest friend people to get me to the bus.
So what I'm saying here is... watch out! I'm in a goooood mooooooood.
b-tistheseason
P.S. I not only remember how to knit after putting my knitting in the closet for 9 months, I also FINALLY figured out how to finish the end of the first thing I ever knitted! And it's off keeping someone's neck warm! Hooray!
Last night I got caught in the web of the witching hour, and rather than my half-witch powers gaining strength and vivacity, instead my half-human doubts crushed me under their much-multiplied weight.
Tonight, come midnight, I will be fortified and ready.
Now, we are all winners here. We all did some really nice work, and I plan to continue this kind of incessant, often inane posting, because 1. it gives me something to do, 2. it makes me remember how to form written sentences, which might prove useful in the future, and 3. it is an often hilarious way to conversate with my friendlings. I hope that you plan to do the same.
Yeah, yeah. But WHO WON?
Well.
That would MISS ZOE of Joseph and Zoe Tell It Like It Is, by being the only one to not be distracted by weekends, by staying the course, by posting at least once every day for 21 days!
CONGRATULATIONS! Please send me your address and any requests you might have for your Grand Prize.
While Zoe may have Capital-W Won the Challenge, there are other prizes to be handed out, to all those who have participated, because you're awesome and you did a freaking good job. So, send me your addresses, PRONTO. Thankyouthankyou to Todd, Au (dude, you almost tied for the Grand Prize), Justine, Kevin, and Zoe, for adventuring with me. You're all sexy geniuses.
Please note: we're cooking up some weekly themes for those who would like to participate in further challenges, so send me suggestions if you've got them.
Did you have fun? Would you do it again? Will you post daily without a challenge? Do you have a challenge you wish to administer? Let us know...
Almond croissants are good, even when they're not very high quality.
Here's the question, though: why do I like the almond paste in almond croissants and not marzipan? I think marzipan is beautiful...
...but I do not like to eat it. This sad fact makes me a marzipan outcast in my family.
Marzip-anecdote: My sophomore year in college, I went to New York with my uncle and cousin for my cousin's birthday. My uncle pestered me the whole trip about if there were any boys that I liked at school, and finally I admitted to liking a particular one. He said, "Well, alright then. You need to buy him a present from New York!" He even offered to pay for it.
(I think it's funny that he was so insistent that I try to woo said boy. I think he just wanted me to be happy, but it was a little weird.)
So, what do you get for a college boy you like but only kind of know? A Yankees hat? (No.) An I Heart NY t-shirt? (Lame.) A book? A Playbill? What?
Finally, on the last day of our trip, we stopped for canoli, and my uncle said, "Look at that marzipan! That's what you're getting your friend." Now, I have plenty of friends who would totally dig that gift, if for nothing but the novelty, but really? Lacking any better ideas, though, I picked out all of the best marzipan vegetables in the case, including some radishes and carrots.
When I gave it to said young man upon my return, he was appropriately confused by the gift, as I had expected. Needless to say, my vegetable wooing proved fruitless.
I embrace the awkward in life, or try to (I have to. I am, after all, 'The Girl Who Makes Things Awkward'), but for some reason the marzipan incident got blocked from my memory for about 4 years.
Then I moved to New York, and one day I walked past the very shop where the marzipan was purchased. I stopped dead in the street, and remembered suddenly not only the candy but also the recipient, and the years of awkward gift giving that followed that forgotten marzipan, like a truck it all hit me. And I laughed.
I laughed and laughed and laughed.
Sometimes, things are just so weird that you know that life is a funny joke, not a cruel one.
P.S. Almond flavoring smells to me like poison. I had forgotten that until I was making a drink the other day. Teej is a man who knows his poisons, and he told me that cyanide smells like almonds.
"As Harold took a bite of Bavarian sugar cookie, he finally felt as if everything was going to be ok. Sometimes, when we lose ourselves in fear and despair, in routine and constancy, in hopelessness and tragedy, we can thank God for Bavarian sugar cookies. And, fortunately, when there aren't any cookies, we can still find reassurance in a familiar hand on our skin, or a kind and loving gesture, or subtle encouragement, or a loving embrace, or an offer of comfort, not to mention hospital gurneys and nose plugs, an uneaten Danish, soft-spoken secrets, and Fender Stratocasters, and maybe the occasional piece of fiction. And we must remember that all these things, the nuances, the anomalies, the subtleties, which we assume only accessorize our days, are effective for a much larger and nobler cause. They are here to save our lives. I know the idea seems strange, but I also know that it just so happens to be true."
There is a gorgeous light dusting of snow on the ground this morning, and my roommate made me an egg sandwich.
Which put me in a good mood as I left the house at 7:30 for work.
Which is good, since I stayed up too late last night playing Rock Band and drinking champagne. Also, when I walked in the door of the cafe, the espresso machine was clogged and leaking everywhere, and there was a flood on the floor from some mysterious source.
The floor is now mopped and dry and smelling vaguely of lavender, I got the machine to stop leaking (at least so horribly), all of the opening chores are finally done, and soon I'll have my second cup of coffee and decide to really be awake.
What I'm trying to say, I guess, is that my snow- and egg-infused good cheer is kicking the butt of this lame day. So there.
-b-funk
P.S. Dude. San Pellegrino Limonata is delicious.
P.P.S. This totally rad lady comes in every few days for an iced honey americano. She and her husband have different favorite coffeeshops, and rather than switching off where the go, or debating the merits of one over they other, they just go to both.
Every time. No questions asked. She gets a honey americano at Janine's, he gets a medium cup of dark roast with skim milk and one equal from Java Jay's. And they're happy as clams to do it that way.
I think that is awesome.
P.P.P.S. Pascal said of his yogurt today, "This is going to taste me good!"
Which, apparently, is perfect grammar, if you're speaking German.
Well, I definitely didn't touch a computer (but for a friend's iPod Touch - um, those things are SWEET) all fake-weekend (I have Sundays and Mondays off) long. So... whoops, again.
However, I did find out that this FREAKIN' AWESOME GUY is checking out the challenge:
This knowledge has rejuvenated my Challenge Spirit, and I'm ready for a new week.
Some things you should know about that guy up there:
1. He takes his coffee black, unless we're at a diner, in which case he lets me stir in two creams, because he knows that I like to.
2. He used to let me blow my little nose on his shirt sleeve when I was full of snot. I'm sure he still would if I asked.
3. He has a sweet bicycle.
4. He has been quietly wanting a puppy for at least 25 years. No one should have to wait that long for a puppy. Your time is coming, dude, I can feel it.
5. He doesn't fall asleep with peanut butter sandwiches in his mouth. Anymore.
6. He's really good at growing baby flowers.
7. He doesn't like listening to you chew, either.
8. He probably thinks you're pretty awesome. And he probably wants to watch a movie with you or play you some records. So call him up.
Your #1 Fan for Life, b - snot factory - b
P.S. I saw a commercial for an iPhone this weekend that showed an application where you can know the exact whereabouts, on Google Map, of your friends who also have iPhones. This is TOO MUCH. Twitter, blog, text where you are, for everyone to find you, fine, great, but basically, I don't want to WANT to know where my friends are, literally and exactly, at every moment. That just feels too gross.
Now, the iPhone app that lets you hold your phone up to music playing and figures out what song it is and who it's by - that is gadgetry this girl can get behind.
I had big plans to post when I got off work yesterday, but then I ran errands and put squash in the oven, grated cheese and ate pasta and went to rehearsal and then rehearsed some more, watched some hockey highlights, then fell into bed.
All of which is great, but none of which is posting on my blog.
So. At least twice today as penance, okay?
***
Last night, and the night before, we had a rehearsal after rehearsal, and I was transported back to the days of yore when it was common practice to rehearse a show from 7-10 and then start the next rehearsal at 10:15, to continue until everyone fell down from exhaustion
That brings a few gems of college rehearsing to mind (lesson: why it's not safe to be too tired):
1. Watching TBuch try to demonstrate a Fireman's Carry, only to be foiled by the man on her back. Watching her face hit the ground. Catching her blood in my hands, trying not to let it get on the new dance floor in the rehearsal room. (Dr. Faustus, 2002)
2. Seeing Kevin get kicked in the head by Peter AND Flinn pass out from lack of oxygen in the same rehearsal. (Ugly Duckling, 2003)
3. Hitting my head on the ground so hard during a movement warm-up that I gave myself whip-lash. (There Is No More Firmament, 2005)
Oh, for real. Let's all try to be a little bit more careful, shall we?
-b.concussed.b
P.S. Mmmm. I want a bed, an electric blanket, a sleep mask, and two days to spend with said items.
Mmmm, I wish I was under an electric blanket, with a sleep mask on
I had a dream last night that I was helping to throw a dinner party for this guy:
It was being thrown on some tiny college campus somewhere, and something essential to the party was missing (some notebooks), and it was my fault. And anyone who knows that guy, knows that you don't want to be the one who lost anything of his.
To all of my fine friends who are participating in The Challenge:
If you make it to the end of Week 3...
I will make you something special and send it to you in the mail.
How about that?
Heart, beaniebebe
P.S. Cowboy Hat Guy is here right now. Today would be a very good day for a cowboy hat, what with all the freaking sleet.
P.P.S. Can I drink 8 glasses of water a day, like the proverbial 'they' say I should? Glasses of water so far today: 3 1/2. (Note: cups of coffee are approximately 3 1/2 also. Hmmm.)
Somebody needs to start studying for the GRE, and that somebody is me. I miss book learnin', and while it will take a standardized test for me to get there, I need to get myself some more schoolin'.
7AM comes only moments after I lay down, it seems, and I am so warm and cuddly in bed...
But then there is an old fashioned donut and a crunchy donut hole and an extra-strength cappuccino and some good company and Pascal will be here in 5 minutes to bring all the good cheer a girl could need on a rainy day and there will be good music all day long and a crossword puzzle and good friends later.
I have the best friends a girl could ever ask for, spread across the whole world. And while sometimes I get awfully lonely, and start to feel a little lost, I am lucky, and I know it.
Thanks, guys.
(It sounds mushy, I realize, but you know that I mean it.)
Even though he insists he wasn't invited, my favorite Kevin has excepted/accepted the call and if you haven't already been there, go to I Like Drinks, start reading from the beginning, and get yourself all caught up.
Sooooo, now The Challenge is alive and well in Minneapolis, Baltimore, Athens, Lawrence, AND Brooklyn! Another cool thing? Not everyone involved in the challenge knows each other (yet).
While the internet has limitless potential to alienate, I'm glad we're taking this opportunity to connect, friends!
Someone rearranged all of the magnetic poetry on the board that we keep by the window at the coffeeshop into the shape of a heart.
I just went over to look and see what phrase was in the middle of the heart.
"Yesterday is over."
Challenge, Day 2
Au officially accepted the challenge! Read her musings at Secret Plans. She just joined the blogolution, so I'm excited for this opportunity to read something she writes every. damn. day.
Justine will be joining us as well! She is smart and pretty and has adorable children! I'm new to her blog, so that will be some good reading, too! Find her at Welcome to Tink's!
Guys, this is pretty awesome. The challenge now includes amateur bloggers/cool cats living in Minneapolis, Baltimore AND Lawrence. That's fuckin' rock and roll.
***
Things I want for Christmas (if Target can have all their Christmas crap up, then I can start my Christmas list):
Dear Santa:
I've been really good. Please bring me:
Some skates. A bass. A new job for my friend Todd. An Everlasting Gobstopper. The REAL kind, not the kind that comes in a box of 20. A puppy.
And I'd like to make it home in time for Christmas Eve dinner. Can I catch a ride in your sleigh?
The call has been answered! The maestro over at Todd's Place took up my challenge with a *smack*, and Au will accept the challenge once I tell her the following information:
No, length is of no consequence. You can still expect short bursts of inane thought about food from this here blog during the challenge! Aren't you excited??? So don't panic, because you, too, can join! All you need to meet the challenge is at least one post a day for the next three weeks. Why, that's so much easier than getting homework done!
So, that's three of us taking part, isn't it? Any more takers?
Now, Au, please answer the following: Is your blog yet public? Can I share it with the world on my list of blogs written by awesome people? Say yes, say yes!
Today is a List Full of Unrelated Thoughts and a Lot of Exclamation Points!:
1. Let's all vote! 2. Let's all drink a cup of coffee or three! 3. Welcome to the world, little Miles Forrest! 4. Welcome to Minnesota, sugarfree and db! Let's see each other soon and often. 5. There's a beautiful Indian Summer happening in Minnesota, at least for another day. Happy November! Who wants to play in the leaves with me before it snows? 6. Hot dog, french fries and a beer for $7! Oh, Triple Rock, there is more to you than just bouncers who bully Kevin on his birthday. 7. Don't Panic! Not quite yet, anyway!
Last night I was so sleepy at 630PM that I went to get a double espresso to cure what ailed me. I decided the Cliquot Club was the place to go, with it's cute boy waitstaff and it's connection to Kevin (and it's proximity to the Ivy Building where I would be rehearsing shortly).
I turned off the car, closed my burning, tired eyes for a second, and then? I fell asleep in my car for 20 minutes.
When I did wake up, I almost decided to let myself fall back asleep, without checking to see how long I'd been conked out.
I dragged myself into the Club and ordered my coffee, but it's all a blur because basically, I was still asleep.
Choosing to nap in your car is one thing (lunch break at the McJob, waiting to pick up someone from work, etc.), but to fall asleep accidentally... is just kind of bizarre.
I think this means it's time for me to hibernate. See ya in spring, suckers.
The following traits are widely associated with Pisces.
* malleable / impressionable
* gentle
* good natured / easygoing
* likeable / kind
* compassionate / sympathetic
* sensitive
* impractical / dreamy
* instinctive / intuitive
* imaginative / artistically able
* versatile
* gullible / naive / easily led
* spiritual
* escapist
* selfless
Likes: Feeling appreciated, feeling loved, freedom, stability, mystical settings/enchantment, dreaming, having their input valued, being unique
Dislikes: Feeling vulnerable, having no goals to move toward, feeling invalidated, being criticized, illiteracy, noisy scenes and displays, having no sense of structure
Ideal Careers: caring for the needy, as in the fields of medicine or veterinary medicine • anything related to the sea • acting • psychics or mystics • religion • cooking • pharmacist
Woke up, fell outta bed, dragged a comb across my...
No, wait. Wake up, see the beginnings of sunlight, know that's a bad sign, roll over, look at my alarm clock, see 7AM, say MOTHERF***ER (not too loud, don't wake the roommates), pull on pants, find two socks that are vaguely similar, shove everything near me into my bag, curse my STUPID PHONE for shutting itself off in the middle of the night even though it was fully charged, thus not waking me up at 6:15 as planned, put on my shoes, run out the door (did I shut it?), pedal to the metal, GOTTA PEE GOTTA PEE, get in the back door of the shop, turn off the alarm, start the dark roast, open the door, turn on the OPEN sign, go to the bathroom (oh, thank goodness...), settle in, settle down, settle in, settle down.
Off work, three hours to myself, plan for phone repair, new socks, shower, clean hair, nice clothes, ready for DoG, instead drop off phone to get FLASHED (what?), go to Target, find no new socks, buy a drink and some gum, swing by to pick up my phone, sorry not ready, read 1 chapter... read 2 chapters... start a 3rd chapter and realize this is just too long, hey where's my phone, no one answers, I stand, I ask, I sit, I stand, I ask, I watch the guy who helped me first count out his drawer and avoid my eye contact, I ask a woman with a watch for the time, OH MY it's 5:25 and I have to be back at work by 6, lost all chance at shower, clean hair, nice clothes, fixed phone, I ask ONE MORE TIME, a girl comes out and says the flash fried it, nothing left, did anyone warn me that might happen?, no they did not, well, I'll get you a new phone, sorry about this, so sorry, well I have to go right now, can I come back tomorrow, sure come back between 8 and 5 and I'll help you, NO, sorry, I have to work and then play with astronauts.
Pedal to the metal, deep cleansing breaths, breathe in, breathe out, breathe breathe, GO car, GO FASTER.
Pull in.
Big hug.
Big laugh.
Breathing back to normal.
Genuine smile on my face.
Ready to make coffee, dirty face or no. Ready to belly laugh. Ready for the good bit.
Delusions of Grandeur, you rocked little ol' Janine's last night. The place was hopping, full of friendly, loud laughers, and you proved a good date for them all. You showed them a grand time. I, for one, am already ready for more.
What a fine premiere!
Repeat after me, everyone: DoG, Janine's, 1st Friday of every month.
I asked Pascal how old he turned on his birthday, and he held up his fingers - 4. I asked him if he liked being 4, and he nodded.
Papa said that on the morning of Pascal's birthday, he came into the room, arms flung open wide, as though he felt noticeably bigger.
Today, Pascal asked me how I pick out the things that we sell, what is in the refrigerators, where the dishwasher was ('that's me!' I said, 'I'm the washer!).
He said, 'I'll see you next weekend!'
I told him I won't be here, because I'm going to a big party.
So, the tiny, coffee-drinking, french-speaking prince-o-my-heart's name is Pascal.
And today was his birthday, so his papa told me. As an explanation for why he was particularly full of energy, running in and out the front door. I didn't mind all the running around, though, because le petit Pascal has the good manners to run around quietly when he's inside.
He came to ask what the ladles were for while I was doing some dishes, and I told him they were for soup. I told him, "Bon Anniversaire! Happy Birthday!"
To which he replied, "Happy Birthday!"
"What are you going to do for your Birthday?"
"Have presents!"
Later, he came behind the counter while I was making coffee, and asked what the espresso machine was for.
"It's for making coffees like the one your papa was drinking."
Yesterday, my roommate got home just as I was getting done watching the season finale of Grey's Anatomy from last season. I had, as I am wont to do, cried my way through it (I finished my tuna sandwich before the real deluge began), and so there I was: tear-stained, sniffling, ready for the season premiere.
She asked me later why I watch shows that make me cry (lady shows, she called them, thank you for that), and I told her I that I think it's because I find it cathartic. All those emotions that I can't quite find an expression for in my own real life, that don't quite well up to climax of tears, I can let them come out all at once when I watch other people suffering or finding joy. I like to do the same thing when I read books and see performance, as well. (Strangely, more embarrassed to cry when I hurt myself than at a good piece of theater. Why is that, I wonder?) I feel like, maybe, it makes me more prepared and open to my own life, to feel so much for other (fake) people. So long as I don't forget to go out and live my own life, too.
I mean, I also like to laugh at funny shows and be horrified by gritty shows (many can't agree with me on this one), seeing some things I find recognizable from my own life, and others that I, thankfully, can't directly identify with. I feel kind of lucky, that my taste range runs large, so I can love goofy TV and vomit-inducing theater and everything in between.
Really, this post is just so the whole internet knows that I cry when I watch TV, in case anyone didn't already know. It's a good thing, I guess, that I couldn't get that episode of Grey's Anatomy to work while I was at the coffeeshop on Saturday. That would have been a little awkward.
There is a four-year-old in the cafe right now, visiting for a blackberry Izze and a scone with his papa after french class.
Apparently, sometimes they share coffee, even though the little one is, let me say again, 4. Papa wouldn't give him any espresso, because 'it's not the kind of coffee you like,' much to the little one's dismay.
Seriously, this is my kind of kid.
Also, Papa asked him if his class today was easy or hard, and little one said, 'medium.'
He's a four-year-old genius coffee drinker. We're going to be best friends.
I'm going to the first wedding I've been to in 4 years tomorrow afternoon. The only wedding I was invited to that I'm really, truly sad to have missed in all that time was definitely Sara's wedding in Greenville. I'm still regretting not reading at the wedding. Alas, I was trying, unsuccessfully, to save up money to move to NY.
The last wedding (reception) I went to was Emily and Aaron, and I took my friend Steve as my pseudo-date, and he didn't know anyone but me. He got drunk without me noticing and colored me pictures in children's coloring books, and refused, for the most part, to dance. Oh, Steve. I had a good time, I hope you did, too.
Anyway! Now, I have new friends that are getting married! And tonight I will get to hang out at their rehearsal dinner! And tomorrow I will get to don some fun clothes and see two people who are really cool experience a really important ritual together, and see how happy they make each other, and eat food, and see a handsome friend of mine in a handsome rented suit, and dance a lot, and meet new folks.
Somewhere between 8 hours of manual labor and reading for several hours propped up on many pillows last night, I have such a horrible crick in my neck that I keep dropping things at work. Much coffee has ended up on the counter, I can't really look up, and I keep inadvertently cursing under my breath.
I'm not actually in a bad mood about it, which is cool, but I really wish someone would come and fix it. Any takers?
...to all of the many generous tippers to come into Janine's today. You've totally made my day. I'm totally gonna buy an ice cream (or two) in your honor.
So. Where do you go when your one-time pick-me-up destination, your go-to vacation, has recently become your new home town? I'll tell you where.
The majestic mountains of Colorado.
Activities included (but were not limited to): playing cards, building fires, hiking, reading books, watching Firefly in its entirety, getting sunburns, riding horses in the Garden of the Gods, riding SCOOTERS in the Garden of the Gods, getting lost in the car on a dark, dark mountain, taking the Cog Rail all the way to the top of Pike's Peak, playing Skeeball, singing Karaoke, watching friends get engaged, drinking coffee, cooking, sleeping, laughing, and eating sooooo muuuuuch goooood fooooood.
Delicious treats included (but were not limited to): Cracker Barrel French toast, Mom's salad, Radina's and Edesia's coffee, vegetables from my Grandparents' garden, French toast stuffed with ham and swiss cheese, eggs, so much BACON!, Butterfinger ice cream, tortellini, hamburgers with pepperjack and mushrooms, some serious mac and cheese, PIROGIES! with Havarti cheese and horseradish, served with smoked salmon and an egg, fresh salt water taffy, fudge, carne asada, menudo (is that a pig's foot in my soup? yes, it certainly is), tots, barbecue chicken, and lots but not enough SONIC.
Put some on this morning, and it immediately started to lift me out of the funk I found myself drowning in this morning when I woke up.
Between that, the surprisingly cool morning air, and this delicious cup of coffee I've found for myself, I may make it to the end of this day in one piece.
Please whisk me away, from this place that for so long was my Great Escape. Take me back to where I'm from, and then away amongst the trees and the clouds. Let's breathe easier (after the initial strained breath of higher altitudes) and remember how to share and how to be happy. These have been hard weeks and I want to become a better version of myself.
To the mountains, the valleys, the free meals, the big hugs, and the adventure that is to come: CHEERS!
Tuesday morning, I call my boss at Janine's, where I've been working part time since the end of the end at TJL, to ask a quick scheduling question. My boss says she's not sure where I am in my job search (I'd sent out another round of resumes to office jobs that morning), but she thinks I'm doing a really good job and doesn't want to lose me if she can help it, so can we figure out how to make the cafe my real job? Especially since she eventually wants to take some leave to have her baby?
Well, YEAH.
You know what I love? Making coffee. You know what I'm good at? Making coffee and being nice to customers. You know where I'd like to do these things? In a tiny cute shop with cute artwork and homemade soups and a garden in the back (as opposed to corporate chocolate with uniforms and chocolate sludge in my shoes and rules rules rules).
So. I am a happy, employed girl, who will have plenty of time and energy to start working on little theatrical projects and keep playing with her friends. How about that? Sounds like the best way to play grownup.
JASPER JOHNS: 3 Works by Skewed Visions founders Charles Campbell, Gulgun Kayim, and Sean Kelley-Pegg They respond to GREY PAINTINGS, TARGET PAINTINGS, and FLAG PAINTINGS
This Wednesday Through Saturday 8PM at the Ritz Theater in Northeast.
Okay, alright, I'm a lot better than I was this morning. But this morning, when I couldn't breathe through my nose, when my snot was green, when I was coughing hard enough to almost vomit, and I was sitting on the couch using Kleenex not to blow my nose but to wipe up exhausted, spirit-crushed tears... Then I was SICK.
I'm spending the day futzing around on the internet, watching movies, drinking cup after cup of Twinings tea, and generally feeling sorry for myself. I'd just held on so long to the hope that the cold I'd been ignoring would just go the hell away, but today I had to give up hope and just give in to being a sick, crying little girl.
Anyhow, now that I'm feeling a little bit more upbeat (as much as can be expected), I figured it was HIGH TIME to BLOG.
Ready.
Set.
1. End of R&J Thank God.
2. Vacation #2 CALI. Orange. Looks like the set from a movie about making movies. Reality twice removed. The Doctor lives in a cute room in a cute house with beautiful, kind friends, most of whom make movies. I want to move in as soon as possible.
We ate grapefruit with lots of sugar and drank apricot beer and The Doctor read stories out loud and we wore dresses and played with friends and had the best frozen yogurt of my life. I saw LA and the Santa Monica pier and Erin Burns and the Chapman film school, where I ran into a guy I knew from college who's acting in movies now. I found sunglasses and bought shoes. I feel like The Doctor's friends will soon be my friends, too.
I went from being nearly sick with worry and various other forms of bad juju to breathing easy and being happy and seeing pretty visions of my future.
Thank you, OC, and thank you, Doctor.
3. FATAL and My Collegiate Romance with a Robot Bedlam 10-Minute Play Festival FATAL felt for awhile like it would not become... but it did, and at the Sunday performance we just busted that shit out and went CRAZY! What a stellar group of people. I continue to look forward to making it an evening-length shot to the face.
My Collegiate Romance... went from being a thing that LMac told me I should make, to a title, to a cast show, to a WRITTEN, cast show, to a piece that I really enjoyed, made what it was by a bunch of people I like and am really proud of. And other people enjoyed it, as well. Who could possibly ask for more than that? There will be pictures available soon, and I will be happy to share them here, there, and everywhere. Sunday, Eric was in the audience, and it was clear that every secret was open to him, and everything moment of catharsis for me was apparent to him in it, and hearing him laugh was like a gift just for me.
So, four performances, then strike, and a champagne toast, and a lot of beer on the rooftop patio, and me, happy as a clam.
4. This week There is too much to say about the down-sides of this week. But. On the sunnier side. There have been walks, and italian sodas, and movies, and grilled food, and painting, and stories, and a house full of friends, and all sorts of things that make me happy and break my heart at the same time. Which is how it should be, I think.
Okay. I'm going to listen to the rain and finish this movie and try to get all better.
I just wrote a really long post about the failing technology of my workplace, but upon re-reading, find it TOTALLY BORING.
Long story short? In the last week and half, my computer crashed, and was not backed up in any way. My co-worker's computer froze in the middle of a database upload and she has to leave it alone until a technician comes in next week. The phone system went on the fritz, and it took me 2 days, 36 phone calls, an hour on the phone with the technical director reading DOS-like menus outloud, to fix the damn thing.
CAN SOMETHING JUST WORK RIGHT FOR ONE MINUTE?
We are home to gremlins that come out at night and have drunken parties, and our technology is paying the price.
Sorry, I've been learning to throw stage punches from a hot Canadian. Sue me.
Romeo y Julietta opened this weekend, a charmed weekend so I'm told. Friday was the day of several planets aligning for several hours in just such a way that everyone on earth is inevitably going to drop whatever their holding, fall down, lose a limb, forget someone's birthdays, etc. Sunday was the full moon, the special kind that happened when Christ and Buddha... yeah, I don't know, I was only half paying attention to my mom on the phone about this one. Sounded pretty SWEET though - especially the part about llamas.
Anyway.
Saturday's show, in between the planets mis-aligning and that full moon, was so full of mishaps we probably should have just called it quits at intermission. Balthazar shattered a glass bottle with a pipe, then fell on his ass when he fought Tybalt; the Prince punched Juliet in the nose as Romeo accidentally ripped open Juliet's dress at the boobs; Capulet gashed his arm open on - what? someone's zipper? - and on and on. Blood blood and more blood.
May we ward off death and severe injury for the next 9 performances.
IN RELATED NEWS: I'm about to start rehearsals for the 10-minute play that had a name and a cast well before it ever had a script.
Thinking again of inconvenient affections of eras past, of spring time, of big cities. Thinking of anywhere but here. Thinking of streets where all of the snow has been cleared away, of streets that smell like melting, burning, maybe even that sickly sweet smell of the underground. You know you'd better watch out when you'd rather smell subways than wear scarves and caps and sweaters one more day.
So.
I'm taking a vacation. A week from tomorrow I'm getting on a plane, with no money and high hopes. I'll have a whole week of paid vacation during which I will do absolutely anything I want in that dirty pretty city I used to call home. And this is better - every town is better when you're a visitor.
I will sleep on the couch of my old apartment.
I will visit my old haunts.
I will play a ghost in this particular scene.
I will try to regain my wits, since I seem to have lost them several months ago. Maybe I'll have an epiphany. At least I'll have some time to walk around. To do the things that I never had the energy for back then.
Do you think it's brainless to assume that making changes to your window's view will give a new perspective?
Anyway, it's been good so far, all day of it. Gonna be a good year. I can feel it my blood.
Thanks to all the beauties that traveled from the far reaches of the Cities to attend my birthday party. I hope everyone had as good a time as I did, but even if you didn't, thank you thank you thank you.
This . . . is my poor excuse for not writing. I've been planning a "2007: Year In Review," and I'd sure as hell better post it before the end of January or I'm officially a jerk.
Small-world coincidence of this evening: while at a potluck for the Russians, I met a Russian filmmaker who lives/works in New York. She looked really familiar, so I asked her to tell me about what she does in NY, to see if I could figure out a connection. Cool stuff, but no connection, until I told her what I was doing in NY last year. She said, "Oh, yeah. I went to Foreman's show last year." Which means I inevitably gave her her tickets. She was waiting for her boyfriend at the theatre, and he was late, so I likely saw her twice in the lobby when she turned back his ticket so he could pick it up himself, which explains why I remembered her face. (Also, she may have been one of the girls that the Eduardo was momentarily infatuated with - she is awfully pretty.)
Anyway, we talked about performance, she passed along some info on the new biennial performance festival in NY, and gave me her card so I can call her next time I'm in NY.
1. I'm tooling around on the interweb today, looking up venue information for US theatres. I opened the page for St. Ann's, and the picture at the beginning of the flash animation is a big group of people all standing out on the street outside of the warehouse, and right smack in the middle of the picture are Jason and Jessica from Banana Bag and Bodice. They've definitely gotten drunk in my living room.
2. That made me wonder what BBB is up to, and their website tells me that The Rising Fallen have a return engagement at PS 122 in January. If I can catch The Rising Fallen and Deep Trance Behavior in Potatoland in the same trip, I will be one happy lady.
3. I watched some live video feed of Deep Trance Behavior today. It's looking pretty sweet, with two video screens on the same wall, for a double vision effect. Lots of ladies in dresses. Fulya in elbow length gloves. After awhile there was a weird error where the video footage played with a free jazz show as the sound, instead of the sounds of rehearsal. Creepy.
Uh-oh. Missing New York. Better visit soon or I might to run away to Brooklyn before it's time.
Cheese and crackers Curried Sweet Potato Soup Vegan Sourdough Dressing Sausage and Cornbread Stuffing Cranberry Relish Green Bean, Fennel, and Onion Relish Applesauce Peas and Pearl Onions Vegan Garlic Mashed Potatoes Potatoes with Cheese and Sour Cream Homemade Rolls Lentil Loaf Turkey White and Red Wine Red Tea Coffee Apple Pie Pumpkin Pie with Sherry/Contreau Whipped Cream Sweet Potato Pecan Pie
I took a walk in between dinner and dessert and got a side cramp, and I feel a little like my eyes are going to pop out.
I am thankful for my roommates, and I am thankful that my roommates know how to cook.
This is my first foray into musical theatre since. . .when?
Oh, yeah. Guys and Dolls, 2000. Does anyone actually remember me singing in that show? Yeah, that's because I didn't.
Needless to say, not usually my cup of tea, but you know, I'm hitting those notes better than I ever would have guessed. And rehearsals have been making me laugh a lot, which is certainly something I've been in dire need of.
The music is adorable, the show is charming, and we're a cute, weird, ragtag band of actors. If you live in the Twin Cities, I think that you're pretty much morally obligated to come and see it.
If not, I'll be taking requests when I hit the road for my holiday travels.
I just posted a comment on one of my new favorite blogs, and as I was pressing the 'submit' button, realized that not only did I split an infinitive in an atrocious manner, I also changed tense mid-sentence. There's nothing I can do to take it back, my cheeks are burning, and I know, I just know, that the smart kids at Iceland Spar will never love me now.
We are a special breed, we who suffer guilt and shame and general physical discomfort for grammatical mistakes we make on the Internet.
Okay, I've gotta make up for some lost time. Okay, 'some' may be an understatement.
I've come back into the blog-fold for a few reasons: 1. I finally read Kevin's travelblog, and it nearly had me in tears. Inspiring. 2. MegaClar asked me if I'd given up my blog, and she said she kind of missed it. I like to make her happy, and since I can't manage to pick up the phone and call her with any regularity, I thought I would do this for her. 3. Joseph commented on my blog out of the blue, without me having posted anything, and I thought, 'okay, now I have a number 3 in my list of top 3 reasons to start blogging again.'
Plus: I really need a hobby.
Things I Think You Should Know About, If You Do Not Already
The healing power of The New Pornographers.
I've been really grumpy for about a month. All the time. I feel sorry for everyone who's around me. For the most part, I think I keep it to myself, but I know that at least my roommates know, because I can't keep myself from banging around really loudly in the morning to vent my frustration at life. Well, I'm kind of clumsy anyway, especially in the morning, so maybe it doesn't seem any different than regular morning-me. However, I know that I'm clomping on purpose.
Yesterday, when I was walking home, feeling a little like I was doing the Charlie Brown walk, I put on The New Pornographers' Mass Romantic, which I had forgotten has some sort of magical quality – I used to listen to it over and over when I was in New York, I couldn't stop myself, it just made the world seem to make so much more sense. My mom was talking to me a few nights ago about learning to live in the moment – a great idea in theory, but so hard to do – she said something like "Am I okay right now? Yes, I am." A fruity affirmation in writing, but if you know my mother, you can imagine her voice, and it sounds pretty reasonable when you hear it from her. But I digress. I put on Mass Romantic, decided that Halloween is fine day to look like a crazy person walking down the street, and started walk-dancing my way down Central Avenue. When I got home, I bought their 2003 album Electric Version on iTunes (because I didn't want to wait another day for my life to be so much better – sorry, Local Music Store), put on my headphones, and cleaned my room (gasp). While I was listening, I realized I must have heard the album before, though I don't know where, because I knew some of the refrains before they happened. It felt like fate.
I cannot tell you how much better I feel today. Thank you, New Pornographers.
Minnesota Public Radio Membership Drive
If you agree to let them thank you on the air, and fill in that bit in the online form on why you've contributed (or, I assume, tell your operator when you call), they will, in fact, read it on the air. I got this message on callboard from someone I only vaguely know: 'you didn't happen to just donate to NPR during their membership/fund drive did you?
If you did, I TOTALLY heard them mention your name AND tell us why you donated.'
Be careful what you write on the internet. It may end up broadcast on regional radio. (I'm totally putting that on my This American Life application. Watch me.)
***Update: Nathan Keepers and Dominique Serrand also heard me mentioned on NPR. I'M FAMOUS.
Deep Trance Behavior In Potatoland
Richard Foreman's newest work at the Ontological. I'm pretty stoked (did I just type that word? Who am I today?); I just have to decide when I can feasibly arrange a trip to the Big Apple, what with my vacation time not technically kicking in until March. I kind of want to go to opening weekend. . .we'll see.
The big news (news to me, anyway): two of my fellow interns are in the show this year! I'm totally delighted, and a little bit jealous (apparently my stand-in work for the Aviator last year didn't capture Richard's soul to quite the extent I might have hoped.) Caitlin and Fulya both seem to have an appropriate presence for Richard's stage, not to mention they know exactly what to expect in rehearsals. GO INTERNS! Way to get paid a little to be there. That's what I'm talkin' about.
The Deception
Holy crap, is this show beautiful. I wish that everyone could see it. I wish that everyone in Minneapolis WOULD see it. Come on, people, you don't have much time left.
Strange Love
I would pay money to watch Charles Campbell point and scratch his head. In fact, I think that I have (Elliott's piece in Capture!Rama), and I would gladly do it again. Strange Love, though, was so much more than that. The first part – The Device – was a stark labyrinth of surveillance and old, broken things that seemed to have secret lives as instruments of torture – I wished that I hadn't been warned not to take too long in the labyrinth, because then I took note of everything quickly, and once I was through, I felt like I couldn't go back. I also had a strong reaction to going through it with other people. For some reason I felt like I wouldn't get the desired effect if I experienced with other people, so I spent too much time worrying if I was alone. Which was, in itself, part of my experience, so I can't knock it.
The eventual (solo) performance was like nothing I've ever seen, really. I've never seen someone playing a variety of characters, not specifically for comic effect, or within a narrative (see: Spalding Gray) or to some undesired comic effect (see: High School Dramatic Interpretation). His changes between characters were subtle yet clear, always surprising but never inappropriately jarring, and always in some kind of communication with what was happening on the video screen behind him. One of the best uses of video in theatre I've seen. And the few times that he entered into the theatrical conversation as himself, specifically after the planned but unrehearsed interruption of a different guest artist each night (in my case a hula dancer playing a ukulele), were especially surprising and delightful.
Skewed Visions is trying to put together a grant for a residency, and if they work that out, I'm going to be the first in line.
The Dark Side of the Brothers Grimm
Don't let the name fool you - it was awesome.
Puppies In the Workplace
As long as they aren't a certain small dog that likes to bite girls that aren't their own, unprovoked, cute puppies in the workplace is a day maker. I'm waiting for Rico and Zach to have a playdate in the office. I plan to do no work that day, but play with puppies.
I can't believe I like dogs now. I blame Chuck from Dooce.com.
Whew. I think I'm done. Next time: A Gift from Planet BX63, and Why I'll Never Look At Ladybugs the Same Way.
Reverend Billy is reading from his book "What Would Jesus Buy?" on CSPAN-2.
He's looking healthier than the last time I spied him, on the steps of St. Mark's. Not being in jail looks good on him. Speaking of sermons and choirs and histrionics in Disneyland on Christmas day.
Friday Afternoon, 2:00 PM. Used my lunch break to walk across the river to deposit the artistic director's check in the bank (he's in Cambridge. . .I still haven't even met him). Lunch from Surdyk's (not just for booze, who knew): smoked beet salad with sesame seeds and ginger, tuna melt on focaccia. The perks of payday.
Friday Afternoon, 2:45 PM. Walking back across the Hennepin Bridge, goodies in hand, thinking about where Eric and I will have drinks after I get off work. Also concerned with the way my skirt keeps slipping clockwise around my body.
I look up just in time to see Vince Vaughn as I'm about to walk right past him. He's on his cellphone, surrounded by a couple of cronies, looking unusually tall. I smile and nod my head.
Wait.
What the CRAP is Vince Vaughn doing walking across the World's Shortest Suspension Bridge at 2:45 on a Friday afternoon? I moved out of New York, right? Sheesh.
The summers after 4th, 5th and 6th grade, I spent living with my aunt, uncle and cousin in Lawrence, KS. Both my aunt and uncle worked from home, so living with them meant that my mom and dad didn't have to worry about who was going to look after me, what activities I would be involved in, etc.
I went to Library camp and Sports camp, I was on the summer swim team, I spent a lot of time with my cousin and the neighbors spitting watermelon seeds on the sidewalk. I read books and learned to use a computer and watched the Olympics and Mystery on PBS. I had crushes on boys. I tried to learn to knit.
What I'm trying to say is: that was the last time I didn't really have every minute of my day dedicated to something, and even then I had some specific activities that I went to daily or weekly. That was the last time I was truly, as they call it, "carefree." I had a handle on "downtime."
THAT WAS 11 YEARS AGO.
I have so much time on my hands that I've actually gone out jogging twice this week. And I watched a Lifetime movie, start to finish. And I've stopped counting how much sleep I've gotten/how much time I've spent on the internet. I'm so far fallen into this pit of inaction that I can't even get myself to use the internet to find out what's going on in the world. Iran? Who knows. I do know, however, a lot about a few people's lives in Utah and New York, the ins and outs of OK GO's music videos, and the lives of a couple of robots here and there.
The moral? Vacations make me feel like a big ol' creep. HELP ME. I NEED TOO MUCH TO DO.
Last night we had our first official showing of America:aciremA at the Bryant-Lake Bowl. It started out as an unintentional final dress rehearsal, as the performance was exclusively for Ben's parents and occasionally the waitress who was in and out of the space.
However.
A group of four gay Canadians on vacation came in to see the show about 10 minutes after it started, and they gave us their approval. (Eric and Laura seperately cornered them while they were bowling later. They took the cornering well.)
A friend of the cast came in later, also, because she had the wrong time.
So. Our audience grew from 2.25 to 7 within the hour. Who could ask for anything more? AND we're expecting almost infinitely more people tonight.
Now, if only I could teleport to see various Robots and Journeys in the Big Apple, and stars and monsters in the Little one. That would make my theatrical life closer to complete.
Pizza, beer, and whiskey at the Alligator Lounge (reminiscent of the first time I met you, Brendan), and now I'm actually panicking about leaving the dirty, pretty city. A month ago, and I was gung ho. Now that I am packed and have a flight out tomorrow, I am melancholic, to put it mildly.
Don't get me wrong, I am secure in my decision to go and work on theatre with incredible friends in an incredible town. However, I don't know what I'll do without you and others like you.
Thank you for the flowers. Please don't forget me while I'm away.
After the latest hiatus, full of parents and friends and less lonely times, I'd love to offer you brilliant pearls of relevent wisdom.
However, all I really have to impart this evening is this: two very angry French (does this sound familiar?) parents, yelling in English about the opera, yelling in French about how disgusting, disturbing, and rude we all are, while their teenage son stands around, looking at the floor, quietly trying to calm them down. Their daughter picked up the tickets (on time) and is sitting inside, enjoying the show, and they are 5 minutes (too) late and completely livid.
No, we will not ask your daughter to come out here. Why? For the same reason that we won't let you inside to see the show. Hard to understand? Really?
Yesterday, 10:30 A.M. A balmy 62 degrees in NYC. People are out without coats on.
Yesterday, 3:30 P.M. Rainy, 40 degrees. I check mattmat.com for the first time in ages, read the new posts, make plans to start listening to Mr. F's eternal mix as soon as possible.
Today, 4 P.M. It hasn't stopped snowing in 9 hours, and mattmat.com is now a website for flooring.
The world is crumbling all around me. I think I need a hug.