So my little part time under the table gig is slowly driving me crazy. My boss is Captain Chaotica. His super power is that everything he touches turns to chaos. Mechanics go to jail, reasonable college boys have breakdowns because of traffic and quit after only four hours, semi-reliable sales people quit via poorly typed letter shoved through the mail slot, and there I sit at the counter, hour after interminable hour.
I was going to write more about what has been going on, topics including but not limited to: my hair, my recent argument, my dissertation, my theatre work, my exciting trip to Long Beach to see the Final Stage of the Tour of California. Then I decided that I should try to get myself back in the habit of posting, so I deleted all those other tidbits, vowing to write more, and to write posts that are actually cohesive. You know, add an element of style or something.
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
Saturday, February 10, 2007
I'll Take Manhattan
Manhattan, Kansas, that is.
Today I finalized my travel plans for the K State Cultural Studies Entertainment Conference coming up at the start of March. Flight, car, hotel. Check, check, check.
It's because of procrastination skills this honed that I don't yet have my PhD.
Today I finalized my travel plans for the K State Cultural Studies Entertainment Conference coming up at the start of March. Flight, car, hotel. Check, check, check.
But wait, aren't you forgetting something?So that's what I'm doing right now. Writing a conference paper. I have 56 words. 56 whole words, 19 of which are a quote from an email. I think it's safe to say that I'm in a bit of an academic rut right now. Thinking is hard! Focusing is even harder! Which is why, upon writing these 56 words, I decided I ought to take a break, do a little blogging to get the creative juices flowing.
Forgetting something? No, I don't think so. I mean, I've even got my hair appointment set for next week and am planning to purchase a couple of new, conference-appropriate outfits after that.
Something big?
No. Nothing. Not at all. Big? What is big?
Really? Think very hard...
Yes! No! Maybe?
Don't you have a paper to write? Isn't that, after all, what you DO at conferences? Deliver papers? Share ideas?
Um, er, yeah, well...
It's because of procrastination skills this honed that I don't yet have my PhD.
Monday, February 05, 2007
Third Night Not So Much A Charm
So three incredible nights out in a row is a bit much to ask for, even in Los Angeles. On Saturday night I went to see a play, one that I was very excited about because it was penned by a playwright I love and got good reviews in the LA Weekly.
Not so hot a show in my book. Call me crazy, but when things happen - like murders or seductions or screams or weird interludes - people in the scene should react. They might not have to react realistically (in fact, please don't), but they should somehow acknowledge that something is happening a mere two or three feet away from them. Also, lines should be said at different paces, just as movement should occur. Also, not every word is as important as every other word; sometimes the idea behind a long long list is that you don't catch every item on it. Also, even if it is a tragedy, not every moment needs to oppress me with its goddamn heaviness. Also, people should move from time to time, even if they are delivering a long monologue. Finally, a director shouldn't rely completely on the text to convey to the audience all the emotions and issues and meanings and events in the story. Because if it were just a matter of reading out loud, then there's no real reason to stage it, and no real reason for a director.
Not so hot a show in my book. Call me crazy, but when things happen - like murders or seductions or screams or weird interludes - people in the scene should react. They might not have to react realistically (in fact, please don't), but they should somehow acknowledge that something is happening a mere two or three feet away from them. Also, lines should be said at different paces, just as movement should occur. Also, not every word is as important as every other word; sometimes the idea behind a long long list is that you don't catch every item on it. Also, even if it is a tragedy, not every moment needs to oppress me with its goddamn heaviness. Also, people should move from time to time, even if they are delivering a long monologue. Finally, a director shouldn't rely completely on the text to convey to the audience all the emotions and issues and meanings and events in the story. Because if it were just a matter of reading out loud, then there's no real reason to stage it, and no real reason for a director.
Saturday, February 03, 2007
February Starts with a Musical Bang
I've been missmusicclub this month (all two days of it). On Thursday, my honey and I reunited with our past (sordid as it is) by seeing Mike Dillon's GoGo Jungle. Dillon, the former front man from one of our college era's favorite college bands (do you follow me?), Billy Goat, is now a punk rock vibraphonist. And if you don't know what a punk rock vibraphonist is, so much the sorrier is your life.
Last night, after burgers with friends at the tres chic Hotel Roosevelt, my honey and I went to the Hotel Cafe to see my new favorite singer/songwriter Jim Bianco. I really appreciated the tightness of the ensemble and the complex originality of the music. But I also must admit that I'd go down like a sucker for any band that features dark, sexy lyrics; a clarinet/trumpet/accordion/piano playing multi-instrumentalist who also sings harmony; and a guitar player who looks like Michael Palin performing completely unironically as an 80s icon.
Last night, after burgers with friends at the tres chic Hotel Roosevelt, my honey and I went to the Hotel Cafe to see my new favorite singer/songwriter Jim Bianco. I really appreciated the tightness of the ensemble and the complex originality of the music. But I also must admit that I'd go down like a sucker for any band that features dark, sexy lyrics; a clarinet/trumpet/accordion/piano playing multi-instrumentalist who also sings harmony; and a guitar player who looks like Michael Palin performing completely unironically as an 80s icon.
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