An enigmatic recluse with a mysterious past and even stranger loyalties, you are an intensely serious presence.
HA!
Thursday
Better.
An enigmatic recluse with a mysterious past and even stranger loyalties, you are an intensely serious presence.
HA!
Wednesday
It was delayed in customs.
Man, I hate having a job. I feel like there's no time for all the stuff I'm supposed to be doing. Because, hilariously, I don't seem to think of an office job that pays me money as something I'm *supposed* to be doing. No, what I'm supposed to be doing is checking my email, writing a review, calling a theatre, mailing out some headshots, making a sandwich and taking a nap. And reading a very important book.
So, should I even be writting this right now? I feel like I'm in a good writing place. Things have been coming out of me lately that sound like how I wanted them to sound. And I figure I probably shouldn't waste the opportunity.
This entry is not about Harry Potter (sorry Steph) but it has something vaguely to do with it, and the fact that the internet is insane.
If you look around this fair 'net of ours, well, maybe, if you look a few days back, you will see people marking their completion of the sixth Harry Potter book. Usually totalled in hours. Like a badge of honor. The same thing happened the when the last one came out. That one that was something like a thousand pages. I can't even remember. I read it over the course of the weekend it came out on. Saturday and Sunday. Midday around each. With a pause for sleep. Maybe somewhere around 16 hours total reading time. And I was drained by the end of it, and then I still had to see people talk about how they finished it in four hours or less.
It's weird to describe how I feel about this. I'm not against reading fast. I'm not against speed reading. I can read fairly fast. If I have to. I read faster than I type, anyway. Yet I don't really like reading fast. Why I did it with Order of the Phoenix I think was a combination of peer emulation and fear of being spoiled. And I wanted to stay with the crowd. Everyone's talking about it, I want to talk about it. I don't want to be filled with the desire to converse and discuss when everyone else has been over it already for a week. It's not like an episode of a television show, where everyone gets that same one hour, and then you're all on the same page. No, this requires some endurance and stamina. Some concentration and motivation. Some willpower and some goals.
And to be honest, I don't want any of that shit when I read. I know I'm not alone.
When I went out to California this spring, I went over to Kirk and Mary-Jane's and we watched Veronica Mars. The boy wasn't into that, and instead opted to borrow from Kirk's library and read. LIKE A GEEEEEEEEEEK! Ahem. Anyway, after the hour was over he had all but finished 'I Am Legend' or whatever it was he had picked up. I mean, nothing substantial, but at least a few hundred pages. I was moderately in awe at the speed of his reading. Our hosts may remember that there was an ensuant discussion about the speed of reading. Kirk agreed with me that it was weird to read that fast. He wasn't down. I find I'm like Kirk about things like that. We don't like spoilers, and our significant others are all about them. Kirk doesn't read fast. Neither do I.
And, as I've said, it's not that I can't. It's that I don't want to. Flying through a story is not what reading is for me. I like to read. I always have. And I mean, I really like it. I like words. I like reading words. I like looking at words. I like seeing them connect and follow, and I like thinking about them. I like reading a powerful or interesting passage and then closing my eyes and holding the book to my chest for moment. And then I read the passage again. I say the words out loud inside my head. I smile at sentences. I enjoy the hell out of a good book.
When I read Order of the Phoenix, I did not do this. I sped through it, as best I could while still reading every word. (I *read* every word, by the way.) And when I was done ... I did not feel so great. I actually felt a little physically uncomfortable, like I had eaten too much in one sitting. My brain was struggling to catch up with all the information that I'd put into it. All the emotion and all the events and everything was just there and gone so freaking fast. I felt unsatisfied. I felt like I wanted more to read, only of course there was no more, because I'd finished it all. I wanted to stay in the spell. The mood. The moment. But it was already gone. It was over. And that made me a little sad.
It's not just about finding out what happens. I was reading my favorite book this week. I've read it at least ten times over the past few years. It's less than five hundred pages. I'm only through half of it. It would probably take me until the end of the week to finish it, and I'm not going to, because I want to start on Harry. But I'm sure as hell not going to be done with it tomorrow. Or the next day. I'm actually not even projecting an end date for this. I'm not doing that this time.
This time, like I usually do, I'm going to savor my book, instead of gobbling it. I'll see you in a couple days.
So, should I even be writting this right now? I feel like I'm in a good writing place. Things have been coming out of me lately that sound like how I wanted them to sound. And I figure I probably shouldn't waste the opportunity.
This entry is not about Harry Potter (sorry Steph) but it has something vaguely to do with it, and the fact that the internet is insane.
If you look around this fair 'net of ours, well, maybe, if you look a few days back, you will see people marking their completion of the sixth Harry Potter book. Usually totalled in hours. Like a badge of honor. The same thing happened the when the last one came out. That one that was something like a thousand pages. I can't even remember. I read it over the course of the weekend it came out on. Saturday and Sunday. Midday around each. With a pause for sleep. Maybe somewhere around 16 hours total reading time. And I was drained by the end of it, and then I still had to see people talk about how they finished it in four hours or less.
It's weird to describe how I feel about this. I'm not against reading fast. I'm not against speed reading. I can read fairly fast. If I have to. I read faster than I type, anyway. Yet I don't really like reading fast. Why I did it with Order of the Phoenix I think was a combination of peer emulation and fear of being spoiled. And I wanted to stay with the crowd. Everyone's talking about it, I want to talk about it. I don't want to be filled with the desire to converse and discuss when everyone else has been over it already for a week. It's not like an episode of a television show, where everyone gets that same one hour, and then you're all on the same page. No, this requires some endurance and stamina. Some concentration and motivation. Some willpower and some goals.
And to be honest, I don't want any of that shit when I read. I know I'm not alone.
When I went out to California this spring, I went over to Kirk and Mary-Jane's and we watched Veronica Mars. The boy wasn't into that, and instead opted to borrow from Kirk's library and read. LIKE A GEEEEEEEEEEK! Ahem. Anyway, after the hour was over he had all but finished 'I Am Legend' or whatever it was he had picked up. I mean, nothing substantial, but at least a few hundred pages. I was moderately in awe at the speed of his reading. Our hosts may remember that there was an ensuant discussion about the speed of reading. Kirk agreed with me that it was weird to read that fast. He wasn't down. I find I'm like Kirk about things like that. We don't like spoilers, and our significant others are all about them. Kirk doesn't read fast. Neither do I.
And, as I've said, it's not that I can't. It's that I don't want to. Flying through a story is not what reading is for me. I like to read. I always have. And I mean, I really like it. I like words. I like reading words. I like looking at words. I like seeing them connect and follow, and I like thinking about them. I like reading a powerful or interesting passage and then closing my eyes and holding the book to my chest for moment. And then I read the passage again. I say the words out loud inside my head. I smile at sentences. I enjoy the hell out of a good book.
When I read Order of the Phoenix, I did not do this. I sped through it, as best I could while still reading every word. (I *read* every word, by the way.) And when I was done ... I did not feel so great. I actually felt a little physically uncomfortable, like I had eaten too much in one sitting. My brain was struggling to catch up with all the information that I'd put into it. All the emotion and all the events and everything was just there and gone so freaking fast. I felt unsatisfied. I felt like I wanted more to read, only of course there was no more, because I'd finished it all. I wanted to stay in the spell. The mood. The moment. But it was already gone. It was over. And that made me a little sad.
It's not just about finding out what happens. I was reading my favorite book this week. I've read it at least ten times over the past few years. It's less than five hundred pages. I'm only through half of it. It would probably take me until the end of the week to finish it, and I'm not going to, because I want to start on Harry. But I'm sure as hell not going to be done with it tomorrow. Or the next day. I'm actually not even projecting an end date for this. I'm not doing that this time.
This time, like I usually do, I'm going to savor my book, instead of gobbling it. I'll see you in a couple days.
Saturday
Of singing newsboys, and other matters.
First, I'm totally sick. Or maybe it's just allergies. I can't really tell. I've been at the stage where everything is itchy and gross, and normally this quickly progresses to the stage where I feel like I can't move and am near death. But instead, I've been at this preliminary stage for the past three days. And now there's coughing. And sinus pain. And I'm out of vitamin C.
This could be perhaps because I've been living with heat and a guinea pig in my room for the past week. And I have another week to go. And ... all sorts of stuff is going on, and I've been lately working 8:30 to 5. I hope I fix soon.
I've been rereading my favorite book, and I've reacquired some songs that I used to have from the musical "Newsies." I think I've mentioned in the past that I have a strange love for this movie. In general, I tend to enjoy movies about young men and their bonds of friendship. Typically, it's best if they're in a prep school of some kind, but it doesn't have to be. I've never really cared for movies about school girls bonding, though. I mean, they're all right, but usually all filled with commentaries on the trials of womanhood, and BFFs, and God. BORING.
Anyway, Newsies is one of those movies that I still enjoy, though in a far different way than when I first saw it. First of all, I don't think I'm still in love with Gabriel Damon, even though at the time he had all the sex appeal that an eight year old's brain could recognize. I am, however, still in love with Christian Bale. And this is where it started! Everyone else is a Christian Bale lovin' poser. Also, there are lots of other young men in the film who I've come to love from their later (sparse) careers. Young men such as David Moscow and Michael Goorjian and Luke Edwards.
Also, I like musicals. I just do. And perhaps what I like about the songs from this movie is, not only are they catchy and entertaining, but they're completely impossible to sing along to without affecting the extreme New York accent used in the film. Hee!! And also, when was the last time anyone used the term "piker"? Or told you that they were "one hifalutin' son-of-a-gun"? See? See what I mean?
In a related story, it looks like I'm going to have to get my iPod replaced. AGAIN. Bah! It's almost fascinating that my distrust and vague hatred of Apple products was actually justified and not just a trendy holdover mentality from the 90s.
Goddammit. When is my Harry Potter getting here?
This could be perhaps because I've been living with heat and a guinea pig in my room for the past week. And I have another week to go. And ... all sorts of stuff is going on, and I've been lately working 8:30 to 5. I hope I fix soon.
I've been rereading my favorite book, and I've reacquired some songs that I used to have from the musical "Newsies." I think I've mentioned in the past that I have a strange love for this movie. In general, I tend to enjoy movies about young men and their bonds of friendship. Typically, it's best if they're in a prep school of some kind, but it doesn't have to be. I've never really cared for movies about school girls bonding, though. I mean, they're all right, but usually all filled with commentaries on the trials of womanhood, and BFFs, and God. BORING.
Anyway, Newsies is one of those movies that I still enjoy, though in a far different way than when I first saw it. First of all, I don't think I'm still in love with Gabriel Damon, even though at the time he had all the sex appeal that an eight year old's brain could recognize. I am, however, still in love with Christian Bale. And this is where it started! Everyone else is a Christian Bale lovin' poser. Also, there are lots of other young men in the film who I've come to love from their later (sparse) careers. Young men such as David Moscow and Michael Goorjian and Luke Edwards.
Also, I like musicals. I just do. And perhaps what I like about the songs from this movie is, not only are they catchy and entertaining, but they're completely impossible to sing along to without affecting the extreme New York accent used in the film. Hee!! And also, when was the last time anyone used the term "piker"? Or told you that they were "one hifalutin' son-of-a-gun"? See? See what I mean?
In a related story, it looks like I'm going to have to get my iPod replaced. AGAIN. Bah! It's almost fascinating that my distrust and vague hatred of Apple products was actually justified and not just a trendy holdover mentality from the 90s.
Goddammit. When is my Harry Potter getting here?
Monday
Advantage: Lee.
So, I went to see Episode III again last night. Which, I suppose, more or less constitutes my review of the movie. I'd totally see it again, too.
The following relates not to the plot of the film, but only to the actors in it, which is why I shall be forgoing spoiler tags. Although you should probably know how it ends.
I noticed this the first time I saw it, but had more time to ponder it this go-around: Hayden Christiansen seems like he's pretty tall. And then Jimmy Smits shows up, and he looks like he's about nine feet tall. Holy crap! How tall is Jimmy Smits? Is he taller than Christopher Lee? Why have I never noticed that he was so tall?
According to the Internet Movie Database, Hayden Christiansen is 6'1". Oh. That's not that tall. Which I say because I know several gentlemen who are that tall. That's not that tall. Jimmy Smits, as it happens, is 6'3". That's pretty tall, but not as giant as he appears to be on-screen. Samuel L. Jackson is also 6'3". He didn't look that tall. All of them mere mortals compared to Mr. Lee.
Which then lead me to wonder, How short is Ewan MacGregor? Because when these men appeared so giant, they were usually standing next to him.
Ewan MacGregor is 5'10". That's not too tall.
Of course, lest my readership forget, all of my value judgments about height can be discreditted, because I am a midget.
The following relates not to the plot of the film, but only to the actors in it, which is why I shall be forgoing spoiler tags. Although you should probably know how it ends.
I noticed this the first time I saw it, but had more time to ponder it this go-around: Hayden Christiansen seems like he's pretty tall. And then Jimmy Smits shows up, and he looks like he's about nine feet tall. Holy crap! How tall is Jimmy Smits? Is he taller than Christopher Lee? Why have I never noticed that he was so tall?
According to the Internet Movie Database, Hayden Christiansen is 6'1". Oh. That's not that tall. Which I say because I know several gentlemen who are that tall. That's not that tall. Jimmy Smits, as it happens, is 6'3". That's pretty tall, but not as giant as he appears to be on-screen. Samuel L. Jackson is also 6'3". He didn't look that tall. All of them mere mortals compared to Mr. Lee.
Which then lead me to wonder, How short is Ewan MacGregor? Because when these men appeared so giant, they were usually standing next to him.
Ewan MacGregor is 5'10". That's not too tall.
Of course, lest my readership forget, all of my value judgments about height can be discreditted, because I am a midget.
Saturday
Thank you, L'Occitane!
Today my mother and I went to "The Mall at Short Hills." That place is snooty. We went there because they have a Tiffany's, and a friend of my mother has a son who is marrying a girl, and we bought them crystal candlesticks with which to start their joyous life together. I don't know.
I went because I discovered a gift card shoved in my drawer for $50 for Bloomingdales. As I may have mentioned before, I had something of a habit of getting money that is not cash (ie, checks or gift certificates) and then never doing anything with it. I found a gift check for $100 a while ago, but it had expired two years earlier. Ouch. ... Ouch.
Anyway, the Bloomingdales card, though it said "Merry Christmas" on it, did not have an expiration date. So, I figured, what the heck. Upon trying to use it, we discovered that it had, in fact, expired, but that it could be revived with a quick jaunt over to the "guest services" -- no problem. And this is why Bloomingdales is great.
Incidentally, there's something about the Buffy episode "Family" that has always bothered me. Buffy is talking about a sweater that she thought she'd like to get for Tara, but decided that she wanted it instead. The store she saw it in was Bloomingdales. I read the script for this episode, and discovered that the store referenced was originally Macy*s. Which makes a lot more sense. Because while I'm sure Buffy would much rather shop at "Bloomies" -- she had no freaking money. I mean, not that I do either, but. The hell, Miss Summers! The hell!
Anyway. This is how I purchased a skirt. It's green and linen and really pretty. And a size 6. So much for getting fatter! It's really pretty.
But this is not what's important. What's important is that in The Mall at Short Hills (hereafter "Short Hills Mall" or "the mall") there is a store that's like the Body Shop, only French. And that store is called L'Occitane. And in this store they were selling a fragrance.
Many years ago, my mother took me to the Body Shop. In the Body Shop, they have perfume oils. I tried magnolia. And it was very pretty, and I liked it very much, and it smelled nice on me. And I wanted to purchase it. I was told by my mother that we could get it the next time we came. The Next Time We Came, the fragrance had been discontinued. And it was never to be found again. This incident has become legend.
L'Occitane was selling magnolia perfume. I now own some. I am at peace.
I went because I discovered a gift card shoved in my drawer for $50 for Bloomingdales. As I may have mentioned before, I had something of a habit of getting money that is not cash (ie, checks or gift certificates) and then never doing anything with it. I found a gift check for $100 a while ago, but it had expired two years earlier. Ouch. ... Ouch.
Anyway, the Bloomingdales card, though it said "Merry Christmas" on it, did not have an expiration date. So, I figured, what the heck. Upon trying to use it, we discovered that it had, in fact, expired, but that it could be revived with a quick jaunt over to the "guest services" -- no problem. And this is why Bloomingdales is great.
Incidentally, there's something about the Buffy episode "Family" that has always bothered me. Buffy is talking about a sweater that she thought she'd like to get for Tara, but decided that she wanted it instead. The store she saw it in was Bloomingdales. I read the script for this episode, and discovered that the store referenced was originally Macy*s. Which makes a lot more sense. Because while I'm sure Buffy would much rather shop at "Bloomies" -- she had no freaking money. I mean, not that I do either, but. The hell, Miss Summers! The hell!
Anyway. This is how I purchased a skirt. It's green and linen and really pretty. And a size 6. So much for getting fatter! It's really pretty.
But this is not what's important. What's important is that in The Mall at Short Hills (hereafter "Short Hills Mall" or "the mall") there is a store that's like the Body Shop, only French. And that store is called L'Occitane. And in this store they were selling a fragrance.
Many years ago, my mother took me to the Body Shop. In the Body Shop, they have perfume oils. I tried magnolia. And it was very pretty, and I liked it very much, and it smelled nice on me. And I wanted to purchase it. I was told by my mother that we could get it the next time we came. The Next Time We Came, the fragrance had been discontinued. And it was never to be found again. This incident has become legend.
L'Occitane was selling magnolia perfume. I now own some. I am at peace.
Sunday
Happy Birthday, Batshit Insane!
Heh! Um. Not you Jess!
Apparently today is Tom Cruise's birthday. Hee! This is only entertaining because I saw War Of The Worlds this evening. It was pretty good! A-.
I've seen a whole heck of a lot of movies in a short span of time!
I saw Star Wars ! Finally! It was pretty good! B+.
I saw Land Of The Dead nbsp; ! It was pretty good! B+.
Oh, yeah, and I had that show thing. It was pretty good! A++!
But, you know. Not very many people showed up today. Possibley this has something to do with our nation's impending anniversary. Perhaps the run will be extended. That would be pretty great. I'll keep you posted.
Apparently today is Tom Cruise's birthday. Hee! This is only entertaining because I saw War Of The Worlds this evening. It was pretty good! A-.
I've seen a whole heck of a lot of movies in a short span of time!
I saw Star Wars ! Finally! It was pretty good! B+.
I saw Land Of The Dead nbsp; ! It was pretty good! B+.
Oh, yeah, and I had that show thing. It was pretty good! A++!
But, you know. Not very many people showed up today. Possibley this has something to do with our nation's impending anniversary. Perhaps the run will be extended. That would be pretty great. I'll keep you posted.
Thursday
OBVIOUSLY.
Which Family Guy character are you?
Tha play's going great, by the way. Come see it! Don't give me that distance crap!
Saturday
And a different 66.6%...
Are crazy Buffy fans.
WHAT
So, the other day I set out what is most likely going to be the rehearsal schedule. I gave everyone Monday night off, because everyone needs a break and we are, as I've mentioned "moving apace." The young man from Virginia approved, because apparently Monday is the one night of the week when he has a standing social engagement.
I found out today that that social engagement involves going to a gay bar downtown where they serve half-priced drinks and watch two hours of Whedon shows. They're currently working on Firefly.
Holy crap! I was invited to go along! But I've only seen up to "Shindig."
Today in the bus station, I helped a elderly blind gentleman to his gate.
Then on the bus, I was thrown for a loop because I needed to get off about 10 blocks from my normal stop. Because apparently that was the last stop before the bus became EXPRESS! I don't know! That's never happened before. But I got off by the Dunkin Donuts. And then I walked home. But not before I had a very pleasant chat with this man, who was also on the bus, and also upheaved. He complimented my headphones! It was awesome.
In a little while, my father is going to take me to see Batman Begins .
To borrow a phrase off Soupy: Life's so rad.
WHAT
So, the other day I set out what is most likely going to be the rehearsal schedule. I gave everyone Monday night off, because everyone needs a break and we are, as I've mentioned "moving apace." The young man from Virginia approved, because apparently Monday is the one night of the week when he has a standing social engagement.
I found out today that that social engagement involves going to a gay bar downtown where they serve half-priced drinks and watch two hours of Whedon shows. They're currently working on Firefly.
Holy crap! I was invited to go along! But I've only seen up to "Shindig."
Today in the bus station, I helped a elderly blind gentleman to his gate.
Then on the bus, I was thrown for a loop because I needed to get off about 10 blocks from my normal stop. Because apparently that was the last stop before the bus became EXPRESS! I don't know! That's never happened before. But I got off by the Dunkin Donuts. And then I walked home. But not before I had a very pleasant chat with this man, who was also on the bus, and also upheaved. He complimented my headphones! It was awesome.
In a little while, my father is going to take me to see Batman Begins .
To borrow a phrase off Soupy: Life's so rad.
Friday
Do animals or children instinctively like the character?
I scored 53.
My character needs some work in order to be believable. But at least I'm salvageable.
To be fair, I didn't respond to any of the "Does your character have the same name as you?" questions, because that would just be silly.
My character needs some work in order to be believable. But at least I'm salvageable.
To be fair, I didn't respond to any of the "Does your character have the same name as you?" questions, because that would just be silly.
My cast is adorable.
And 66.6% of it is from Virginia.
WHAT
I swear I didn't do it on purpose! You may ask, didn't they have resumes? Didn't you take a look at what schools they'd gone to and infer where they were from? No, I didn't. I actually only gave a quick glance over the resumes. What I cared most about was the look and the audition. I hope other people are the same way! That would sure help me out. But, anyway. Dude. At least we have something to talk about!
Like the fact that the boy is an alumnus of UVa.
And the girl loves Led Zeppelin. "I knew there was a reason I picked you!" I told her.
Again, WHAT
Yesterday we rehearsed in a pub! Because the theatre never got back to me about my rehearsal schedule. It was pretty good. We talked about what I wanted to accomplished, read through the script, talked about things, and I had a grasshopper.
I think things are moving pleasantly apace. At least for now, two days in. This may all change by Thursday when I may start freaking out. But I don't think so. It doesn't help that we only have one rehearsal on the stage. (They did get back to me today.) I'm trying to haggle at least one more out of them. And it doesn't help that one of my actors will be missing two rehearsals due to work. I mean, I told him it was fine and he has the smallest part, but ... still. HOPEFULLY EVERYTHING WORKS OUT.
The time to panic is not yet!
In the bus terminal yesterday, a man standing behind me was talking on the cell phone. He said into it: "Well, I'm at my spot in the Port Authority, and I was thinking about you." It was very sweet.
Today on the bus I sat behind two little girls who were completely fascinated with me. Because I am loved by small children and animals. Seriously, it's a thing. And because of this, I have for a while been saying that I should take the "Mary Sue" test that Jess posted and apply it to myself. I wonder how high I'd score. I'll post my results!
Also, I have the most readable blog of all my friends. Yes, but can you understand it??
And finally...
WHAT
I swear I didn't do it on purpose! You may ask, didn't they have resumes? Didn't you take a look at what schools they'd gone to and infer where they were from? No, I didn't. I actually only gave a quick glance over the resumes. What I cared most about was the look and the audition. I hope other people are the same way! That would sure help me out. But, anyway. Dude. At least we have something to talk about!
Like the fact that the boy is an alumnus of UVa.
And the girl loves Led Zeppelin. "I knew there was a reason I picked you!" I told her.
Again, WHAT
Yesterday we rehearsed in a pub! Because the theatre never got back to me about my rehearsal schedule. It was pretty good. We talked about what I wanted to accomplished, read through the script, talked about things, and I had a grasshopper.
I think things are moving pleasantly apace. At least for now, two days in. This may all change by Thursday when I may start freaking out. But I don't think so. It doesn't help that we only have one rehearsal on the stage. (They did get back to me today.) I'm trying to haggle at least one more out of them. And it doesn't help that one of my actors will be missing two rehearsals due to work. I mean, I told him it was fine and he has the smallest part, but ... still. HOPEFULLY EVERYTHING WORKS OUT.
The time to panic is not yet!
In the bus terminal yesterday, a man standing behind me was talking on the cell phone. He said into it: "Well, I'm at my spot in the Port Authority, and I was thinking about you." It was very sweet.
Today on the bus I sat behind two little girls who were completely fascinated with me. Because I am loved by small children and animals. Seriously, it's a thing. And because of this, I have for a while been saying that I should take the "Mary Sue" test that Jess posted and apply it to myself. I wonder how high I'd score. I'll post my results!
Also, I have the most readable blog of all my friends. Yes, but can you understand it??
And finally...
Thursday
"It was raining... it was pouring ... I may have been snoring..."
This is a quote from my father, describing the FREAK ASS weather system that hit around and about my living area today. My mother suggested it may have been a tornado. I suggested that she was being dramatic.
I was taking a shower through the bulk of the scariness. Though the thought did cross my mind several times as I was listening to the booming, crashing thunder that I hoped a tree didn't come crashing through my house and cause me to die a painful and undignified death. You have to consider things like this.
Speaking of raining, pouring, and considering things. I just got an email asking me to set up an audition for a play in Princeton. Not at the McCarter, but that's quite alright. The date? July 2nd. The day my show opens. Available times start at 10am, and I'd need to prepare a stylized classical monologue, preferrabley in verse. I was really hoping to get an audition for this. It's for the lead! And for money! Em. I mean ... for art.
So, do you think I can/should get up ass early in the morning, ship myself down to Princeton, audition, and then come back up here and get ready and be at the theatre by 4, which is the call time? Am I nuts!
Also -- Holy Crap!
On a completely unrelated note, a while back I heard something about how playing a bass guitar is much like playing a violin. I don't know if that's actually true, but since then I've been enamoured with the idea of learning to play one. I've even gone so crazily far as to LIE and tell someone that I WAS learning to play one. (Also, this is yet another instance where it seems like I'm trying to model myself after Miss Jenny Taylor, but I swear I'm not doing it on purpose.) So, now, even though I have no idea how to play this instrument and only the vague idea of what it actually *is* ... I have picked out my perfect instrument. I bet it costs a billion dollars.
I am completely uncool.
I was taking a shower through the bulk of the scariness. Though the thought did cross my mind several times as I was listening to the booming, crashing thunder that I hoped a tree didn't come crashing through my house and cause me to die a painful and undignified death. You have to consider things like this.
Speaking of raining, pouring, and considering things. I just got an email asking me to set up an audition for a play in Princeton. Not at the McCarter, but that's quite alright. The date? July 2nd. The day my show opens. Available times start at 10am, and I'd need to prepare a stylized classical monologue, preferrabley in verse. I was really hoping to get an audition for this. It's for the lead! And for money! Em. I mean ... for art.
So, do you think I can/should get up ass early in the morning, ship myself down to Princeton, audition, and then come back up here and get ready and be at the theatre by 4, which is the call time? Am I nuts!
Also -- Holy Crap!
On a completely unrelated note, a while back I heard something about how playing a bass guitar is much like playing a violin. I don't know if that's actually true, but since then I've been enamoured with the idea of learning to play one. I've even gone so crazily far as to LIE and tell someone that I WAS learning to play one. (Also, this is yet another instance where it seems like I'm trying to model myself after Miss Jenny Taylor, but I swear I'm not doing it on purpose.) So, now, even though I have no idea how to play this instrument and only the vague idea of what it actually *is* ... I have picked out my perfect instrument. I bet it costs a billion dollars.
I am completely uncool.
Tuesday
God, my eyes!
I just rejected some people. Ouch!
In unrelated news, let me know if this is crazy. When my mother comes home, if the day is "nice" she opens the front door and the back door. And then *locks* the screen door.
Now, only, like, two people reading this have been to my house, but I think my neighborhood is pretty nice. Even though it is in New Jersey. But, honestly. She's sitting right there! No one is breaking in the goddamn house! And if someone was going to do that, I don't think the screen door would be a deterent, because obviously that person would be batshit insane.
So, one of these days when I spent all day in the city and then came home, she was already home. And I couldn't get in the back, because the screen door was locked. And I couldn't get in the front, because the screen door was locked. Like, thank you, mother, for locking me out of the house.
Furthmore, once I managed to get inside, I went up to my room to discover the door wide open, and the window wide open. Now, see, the door I keep closed so that small furry creatures don't come in it. Because I love my cats, but I cannot breathe in hair and dander when I sleep. I'm fine when I'm up and awake, but at night, my allergies go crazy. The window I keep closed for the same reason. The "fresh air" that my mother so thinks I should have is replete with pollen. There is plant matter all around my house. This entire weekend, I could barely see, because my eyes are half glued-shut and bleary. My voice is rough. I feel like crap. AND I'm taking Allegra.
What makes this even more entertaining is that I have told my mother, repeatedly, not to open my window for ... oh... probably the last decade or so. Every single day that she has opened my window for the past ten years, I close it, and I tell her not to open my window. I explain to her why. I have done this over and over and over and over and over. I mean, Jesus Christ! Does she want me to die?
My mother said to me one time, "Why are you allergic to nuts, again?"
BECAUSE I FELT LIKE IT.
God. My eyes are all bloodshot and gross. And I feel so freaking tired. And I think, maybe, you know, I need some energy? For my upcoming things?
Blah.
In unrelated news, let me know if this is crazy. When my mother comes home, if the day is "nice" she opens the front door and the back door. And then *locks* the screen door.
Now, only, like, two people reading this have been to my house, but I think my neighborhood is pretty nice. Even though it is in New Jersey. But, honestly. She's sitting right there! No one is breaking in the goddamn house! And if someone was going to do that, I don't think the screen door would be a deterent, because obviously that person would be batshit insane.
So, one of these days when I spent all day in the city and then came home, she was already home. And I couldn't get in the back, because the screen door was locked. And I couldn't get in the front, because the screen door was locked. Like, thank you, mother, for locking me out of the house.
Furthmore, once I managed to get inside, I went up to my room to discover the door wide open, and the window wide open. Now, see, the door I keep closed so that small furry creatures don't come in it. Because I love my cats, but I cannot breathe in hair and dander when I sleep. I'm fine when I'm up and awake, but at night, my allergies go crazy. The window I keep closed for the same reason. The "fresh air" that my mother so thinks I should have is replete with pollen. There is plant matter all around my house. This entire weekend, I could barely see, because my eyes are half glued-shut and bleary. My voice is rough. I feel like crap. AND I'm taking Allegra.
What makes this even more entertaining is that I have told my mother, repeatedly, not to open my window for ... oh... probably the last decade or so. Every single day that she has opened my window for the past ten years, I close it, and I tell her not to open my window. I explain to her why. I have done this over and over and over and over and over. I mean, Jesus Christ! Does she want me to die?
My mother said to me one time, "Why are you allergic to nuts, again?"
BECAUSE I FELT LIKE IT.
God. My eyes are all bloodshot and gross. And I feel so freaking tired. And I think, maybe, you know, I need some energy? For my upcoming things?
Blah.
Thursday
I hate actors!
I called 60 actors today. I am waiting to hear back from 21 of them ... for my 11 remaining spaces.
Yikes!
I'd say the majority of them have been cool, with a few tools thrown in, along with a handful of characters. 6 had invalid phone numbers. One has since joined Equity which means I can't work with him (I can't work with those people). And one was moving to California when I called.
More than a few had already done what I'm doing for the theatre. Heh.
I really think the auditions are going to be the hardest part. Mostly because, um. It's just me? I don't know how that's going to work. I think I need at least two other people. One to let people in, and one upstairs to sign people in and give them sides and "show them in." I really don't have people on hand that I can rope into this. I mean, I assume the people who work at the theatre are going to be there... but maybe not! I guess we'll see!
I guess I'm a little freaked out because I just involved other people in this thing, which means that I'm totally doing it. WHAT
Yikes!
I'd say the majority of them have been cool, with a few tools thrown in, along with a handful of characters. 6 had invalid phone numbers. One has since joined Equity which means I can't work with him (I can't work with those people). And one was moving to California when I called.
More than a few had already done what I'm doing for the theatre. Heh.
I really think the auditions are going to be the hardest part. Mostly because, um. It's just me? I don't know how that's going to work. I think I need at least two other people. One to let people in, and one upstairs to sign people in and give them sides and "show them in." I really don't have people on hand that I can rope into this. I mean, I assume the people who work at the theatre are going to be there... but maybe not! I guess we'll see!
I guess I'm a little freaked out because I just involved other people in this thing, which means that I'm totally doing it. WHAT
Wednesday
Baptism by fire.
God, what a toolish title. But it's the only one I can come up with right now.
So, the directing thing, huh? It's going okay! Considering that I only barely have a grasp on what I'm doing, and there's SO MUCH STUFF to do and absolutely no time to do it in.
It occurred to me just a few minutes ago in the kitchen that I probably don't have what it takes to be a director. Because you have to fire in your gut, and metaphors of that nature. And I guess I do, a little bit, but I also HAVE NO IDEA WHAT I'M DOING, and that freaks me out. All I know is that I do not want to fail. I do not want to look like a chump. So I am willing to fight and work and do crap until this all comes together, whatever that takes.
This is a vast difference from this morning, when I really wasn't sure I wanted to do this. I was very sleepy on the bus, which doesn't help, because the bus ride isn't that long. But I was idly wondering if there wasn't something I could do to get out of this. Like I was debating skipping a few classes and wondering if I could still pull off As. But then I thought, okay, if someone gave me the option to not do this, would I quit, or would I keep going? And I decided that I would keep going.
Today I looked at headshots. A whole fucking lot of headshots. And I talked to them. Which was entertaining, in the sense that I was in a room alone and talking to pictures like a crazy person. At one point I was a little sad by how quickly I plowed through some of them. I realized that that must happen to my headshot often, too. But some of the ladies were just too old. And some were honestly too pretty. Too dramatic. Too not what I was looking for. It was so much harder to find young looking boys and middle aged Hispanic men. So much harder. There were piles of young women, and really not that many men at all. Not by comparison.
I'd read things like "Can play 20-29" and say sympathetically, "Oh sweetie. No you can't." There were some people who went to Rutgers. I'm calling one. She was in a play opposite that guy I mentioned who's now on Guiding Light. I really debated whether or not I wanted her in the pile, because knowing what she looks like in person, I don't think she's entirely what I want. But I didn't want to include or exclude her based on her Rutgers association. So I'll call her, but probably not cast her? God! I've suddenly turned into a horrible person that people hate!
There's so much to do. I had to put in a request for audition space, and I don't know when I'm going to get it. And I need to know that before I call all these people. And I don't know how many of them are going to respond, so I don't know how much time I'm going to need. It's an ugly circle. And I have to schedule a meeting to discuss what I'm doing at the first rehearsal, and I have no idea when that will be. Soon, I guess. Because there is NO TIME.
Although while I was wading through headshots, so people came in to rehearse, and a guy asked what I was doing, and I told him my show was the first weekend of July, and he responded that that was more time than people usually get. Which I can't even think about.
There's no hand-holding here. I basically have to take care of a lot of shit that I don't even know how to take care of. I can ask all the questions that I want, but there's really no one helping me. And it's totally scary, because I do not want to fail. I want this to go well. So bad. How am I going to construct my set pieces? How am I going to run my auditions? When are we going to rehearse? How the hell is this all going to go down!
And my mother keeps snarking to me about how this theatre seems to be all "fly-by-night" and it's very aggravating that I get no support in this arena. If I don't say that everything is going "Great!" then I have to hear about something. And honestly? It's not going great. It's going scary and too fast and nerve wracking and confusing and ugly. But I'm so excited about it. My mother was in a pissy mood today anyway, though. Probably because I was out all day, because she is the world's most contradictory person.
I need to have someone with me at the auditions. Because it's sketchy to just be there by myself. But I don't think I have any friends who would do it with me. I need some to let people in at the door, so people don't have to keep buzzing. I need someone to hang around and look official and show people in and collect headshots. I could really use a lovely assistant like I had at my last audition. Hee.
I think assisting is a more appealing option to me. I've done that, and I can handle that. It's a lot to do, but somehow I feel like I'm more on top of everything when I have someone to report to. When I'm only making little decisions and tweaks instead of all the decisions. And that's sort of what acting is, in a way. It's being a part of the creative whole. And it's at the same time a very important part and not important at all. And I don't know if I would always feel this way. I have vaguely entertained the notion of directing, because I'm a control freak, and would love to poring over every detail of something that I love. But that would be later. When I know what I'm doing. When I'm in control. And I'm sure that would happen. I'm sure it can't always be this alien and scary.
At the same time I'm filled with emotion, I'm giggling at myself because I sound like such a lame cliche. Acting is doing. Art is life. Peace out.
Heeee.
So, the directing thing, huh? It's going okay! Considering that I only barely have a grasp on what I'm doing, and there's SO MUCH STUFF to do and absolutely no time to do it in.
It occurred to me just a few minutes ago in the kitchen that I probably don't have what it takes to be a director. Because you have to fire in your gut, and metaphors of that nature. And I guess I do, a little bit, but I also HAVE NO IDEA WHAT I'M DOING, and that freaks me out. All I know is that I do not want to fail. I do not want to look like a chump. So I am willing to fight and work and do crap until this all comes together, whatever that takes.
This is a vast difference from this morning, when I really wasn't sure I wanted to do this. I was very sleepy on the bus, which doesn't help, because the bus ride isn't that long. But I was idly wondering if there wasn't something I could do to get out of this. Like I was debating skipping a few classes and wondering if I could still pull off As. But then I thought, okay, if someone gave me the option to not do this, would I quit, or would I keep going? And I decided that I would keep going.
Today I looked at headshots. A whole fucking lot of headshots. And I talked to them. Which was entertaining, in the sense that I was in a room alone and talking to pictures like a crazy person. At one point I was a little sad by how quickly I plowed through some of them. I realized that that must happen to my headshot often, too. But some of the ladies were just too old. And some were honestly too pretty. Too dramatic. Too not what I was looking for. It was so much harder to find young looking boys and middle aged Hispanic men. So much harder. There were piles of young women, and really not that many men at all. Not by comparison.
I'd read things like "Can play 20-29" and say sympathetically, "Oh sweetie. No you can't." There were some people who went to Rutgers. I'm calling one. She was in a play opposite that guy I mentioned who's now on Guiding Light. I really debated whether or not I wanted her in the pile, because knowing what she looks like in person, I don't think she's entirely what I want. But I didn't want to include or exclude her based on her Rutgers association. So I'll call her, but probably not cast her? God! I've suddenly turned into a horrible person that people hate!
There's so much to do. I had to put in a request for audition space, and I don't know when I'm going to get it. And I need to know that before I call all these people. And I don't know how many of them are going to respond, so I don't know how much time I'm going to need. It's an ugly circle. And I have to schedule a meeting to discuss what I'm doing at the first rehearsal, and I have no idea when that will be. Soon, I guess. Because there is NO TIME.
Although while I was wading through headshots, so people came in to rehearse, and a guy asked what I was doing, and I told him my show was the first weekend of July, and he responded that that was more time than people usually get. Which I can't even think about.
There's no hand-holding here. I basically have to take care of a lot of shit that I don't even know how to take care of. I can ask all the questions that I want, but there's really no one helping me. And it's totally scary, because I do not want to fail. I want this to go well. So bad. How am I going to construct my set pieces? How am I going to run my auditions? When are we going to rehearse? How the hell is this all going to go down!
And my mother keeps snarking to me about how this theatre seems to be all "fly-by-night" and it's very aggravating that I get no support in this arena. If I don't say that everything is going "Great!" then I have to hear about something. And honestly? It's not going great. It's going scary and too fast and nerve wracking and confusing and ugly. But I'm so excited about it. My mother was in a pissy mood today anyway, though. Probably because I was out all day, because she is the world's most contradictory person.
I need to have someone with me at the auditions. Because it's sketchy to just be there by myself. But I don't think I have any friends who would do it with me. I need some to let people in at the door, so people don't have to keep buzzing. I need someone to hang around and look official and show people in and collect headshots. I could really use a lovely assistant like I had at my last audition. Hee.
I think assisting is a more appealing option to me. I've done that, and I can handle that. It's a lot to do, but somehow I feel like I'm more on top of everything when I have someone to report to. When I'm only making little decisions and tweaks instead of all the decisions. And that's sort of what acting is, in a way. It's being a part of the creative whole. And it's at the same time a very important part and not important at all. And I don't know if I would always feel this way. I have vaguely entertained the notion of directing, because I'm a control freak, and would love to poring over every detail of something that I love. But that would be later. When I know what I'm doing. When I'm in control. And I'm sure that would happen. I'm sure it can't always be this alien and scary.
At the same time I'm filled with emotion, I'm giggling at myself because I sound like such a lame cliche. Acting is doing. Art is life. Peace out.
Heeee.
Tuesday
"Oh, now I'm gross."
This is the phrase spoken at the exact moment when you realize that it is suddenly TOO HOT, and that you are sweating through all your clothing. It is a moment, really, and it happens sometime in the afternoon. Because prior to that, it's okay. It hasn't hit 90 yet, and if you sit still and don't do anything, yeah it's warm, but it's not too bad, and you're not sweating.
And then, it is TOO HOT. For me that time is now.
I couldn't get Blogger too work for me yesterday, but that's probably for the best, since the entry would have involved a discussion of food in its relationship in space to my stomach. Not pleasant! It would also have contained strenuous commentaries on the heat. The forecasters say that the heat will end on Thursday! But that's what they said last week!
Yesterday I was wearing some old jeans, because they are thin enough to be cool, because I do not wear shorts. However, as I was out to lunch and getting into a booth, they ripped right above the knee. I was fine with it at the time, but now I'm unsure. Are they still fit to be worn under certain circumstances? Or only for painting now? I do realize that it is not the 80s.
In other news, I now have 100GB at my disposal. SUCKERS! Oh, holy crap. Once again, I feel like technology is too good for me. I don't even know what to do right now.
And then, it is TOO HOT. For me that time is now.
I couldn't get Blogger too work for me yesterday, but that's probably for the best, since the entry would have involved a discussion of food in its relationship in space to my stomach. Not pleasant! It would also have contained strenuous commentaries on the heat. The forecasters say that the heat will end on Thursday! But that's what they said last week!
Yesterday I was wearing some old jeans, because they are thin enough to be cool, because I do not wear shorts. However, as I was out to lunch and getting into a booth, they ripped right above the knee. I was fine with it at the time, but now I'm unsure. Are they still fit to be worn under certain circumstances? Or only for painting now? I do realize that it is not the 80s.
In other news, I now have 100GB at my disposal. SUCKERS! Oh, holy crap. Once again, I feel like technology is too good for me. I don't even know what to do right now.
Sunday
If I were a dude, I'd be so hot.
Seriously, I'd totally do me. But I'm not posting any of those pictures.
Yes, I'm doing that thing like everybody else is doing. Because I'm so pretty!
Me as bonobo.
Me as painted by Sandro Botticelli.
Me as painted by Alphonse Mucha.
Yes, I'm doing that thing like everybody else is doing. Because I'm so pretty!
Me as bonobo.
Me as painted by Sandro Botticelli.
Me as painted by Alphonse Mucha.
Wednesday
What the hell.
There is someone on my AIM buddy list right now, but it can't be who it was meant to be when I put the name there. The screenname was formerly used by my friend Phil, who died almost two years ago. This is messing with me really bad.
It has been a very emotional day.
It has been a very emotional day.
Monday
My hair is growing back.
Just in time for the heat and humidity!
Kidding. I'm very pleased with this development. And as an unintended yet delightful side effect, I seem to have developed Harper-like bangs.
Look!
I know, adorable, right? Actually, you'll have to excuse my completely hideous complexion. It was so freaking hot and gross today. I guess we'll just keep this as evidence that I'm not always glamorous like a power model, as I'm sure you all assumed.
Kidding. I'm very pleased with this development. And as an unintended yet delightful side effect, I seem to have developed Harper-like bangs.
Look!
I know, adorable, right? Actually, you'll have to excuse my completely hideous complexion. It was so freaking hot and gross today. I guess we'll just keep this as evidence that I'm not always glamorous like a power model, as I'm sure you all assumed.
Friday
Awesome.
| Haughty Intellectual You are 57% Rational, 14% Extroverted, 28% Brutal, and 57% Arrogant. |
You are the Haughty Intellectual. You are a very rational person, emphasizing logic over emotion, and you are also rather arrogant and self-aggrandizing. You probably think of yourself as an intellectual, and you would like everyone to know it. Not only that, but you also tend to look down on others, thinking yourself better than them. You could possibly have an unhealthy obsession with yourself as well, thus causing everyone to hate you for being such an elitist twat. On top of all that, you are also introverted and gentle. This means that you are just a quiet thinker who wants fame and recognition, in all likelihood. Rather lacking in emotion, introspective, gentle, and arrogant, you are most certainly a Haughty Intellectual! And, most likely, you will never achieve the recognition or fame you so desire! Sweet!
1. You are more RATIONAL than intuitive. 2. You are more INTROVERTED than extroverted. 3. You are more GENTLE than brutal. 4. You are more ARROGANT than humble. Compatibility:
The Emo Kid: Intuitive, Introverted, Gentle, Humble. The Starving Artist: Intuitive, Introverted, Gentle, Arrogant. The Bitch-Slap: Intuitive, Introverted, Brutal, Humble. The Brute: Intuitive, Introverted, Brutal, Arrogant. The Hippie: Intuitive, Extroverted, Gentle, Humble. The Televangelist: Intuitive, Extroverted, Gentle, Arrogant. The Schoolyard Bully: Intuitive, Extroverted, Brutal, Humble. The Class Clown: Intuitive, Extroverted, Brutal, Arrogant. The Robot: Rational, Introverted, Gentle, Humble. The Haughty Intellectual: Rational, Introverted, Gentle, Arrogant. The Spiteful Loner: Rational, Introverted, Brutal, Humble. The Sociopath: Rational, Introverted, Brutal, Arrogant. The Hand-Raiser: Rational, Extroverted, Gentle, Humble. The Braggart: Rational, Extroverted, Gentle, Arrogant. The Capitalist Pig: Rational, Extroverted, Brutal, Humble. The Smartass: Rational, Extroverted, Brutal, Arrogant. |
 |
My test tracked 4 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender:
|
| Link: The Personality Defect Test written by saint_gasoline on Ok Cupid |
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