Why do I love the song "I've Just Seen a Face?"
Okay, here's what's up with me: I got a call yesterday as I was driving out to my house with my little sister, Morgan. The guy introduced himself as Jeffrey H******** and told me that CYLA (City Year Los Angeles) wanted to interview me to become a Senior Corps member for the upcoming year. Basically, it's the next step up: I would be in charge of a group of between 6 and 8 of my peers, and I would have to attend planning sessions and extra training. Which is fine. If there is one thing that I'm good at, it's being in charge. I get a thrill off of leadership, and I'm good at organizing tasks and making sure that everything gets done.
The only catch is that I have to interview for the job tomorrow at 4 and, if I get the job, I have to be out there by July 16th to start training. Which means that I'm moving 45 days before the September 1 start date that I thought that I was aiming at. Which means I have to bump everything up.
I'm really thrilled about this opportunity. I mean, most of the people with this job are people from the Corps who are coming back for a second year of AmeriCorps experience. If they think that I can handle the job at this point, then I'm thrilled to offer any extra work that I can do. I just want to try to do some good in the upcoming year.
On the other hand, my mother isn't thrilled. She's supportive, don't get me wrong. Dot would never tell me not to go after something like this, but, at the same time, she thought that I was going to be home a lot longer. So, I'm trying to stay near the home base until I have to go, but it also means that I've got to move up any plans that I had...I mean, I haven't even told Erica that I might be moving.
Basically, I need to start planning if I'm moving that quickly. But I don't know for sure that I am yet. So, I'm in a holding pattern.
Minor Update
The background noise of my life lately has been television on DVD. So far, I've had Buffy Seasons 3 and 4 and Dexter Season 1 playing for the last few weeks. Sometimes, I'll play documentaries in the background on my computer...I don't know...I have a drive to learn stuff. Ever since I've left school, I feel like it's going to be really easy to stop learning stuff. And there is s0 much that I still don't know, so I need to keep up with the education and whatnot. I finally finished Naked Lunch tonight, so I'm 3 for 3 on my major works of the Beat Generation. I can't say that I liked it, but it did intrigue me a great deal. I feel like I need to go back to it when I'm in a more emotional or off-kilter place. It doesn't seem to be best read when under the influence of a well-reasoned temperament.
I'm starting to have remarkably vivid dreams at night. If it keeps up, I"m going to start a dream journal. Passe, I know, but I've never dreamt before. I usuall sleep in blackness. I had about five dreams before this past year, but my subconscious is really starting to kick in.
I didn't realize that it was Memorial Day today. But, whatever, it didn't matter until I tried to mail something and realized the Post Office was closed. Suck.
I don't have anything really witty to say. Come back tomorrow for something more than an elongated status update.
I'm starting to have remarkably vivid dreams at night. If it keeps up, I"m going to start a dream journal. Passe, I know, but I've never dreamt before. I usuall sleep in blackness. I had about five dreams before this past year, but my subconscious is really starting to kick in.
I didn't realize that it was Memorial Day today. But, whatever, it didn't matter until I tried to mail something and realized the Post Office was closed. Suck.
I don't have anything really witty to say. Come back tomorrow for something more than an elongated status update.
Post-Grad Plans
For those of you that don't know, I'm moving to Los Angeles at the end of the summer. My job with City Year Los Angeles starts on September 1, but I have to be there a little bit earlier to do registration and whatnot.
I started looking for apartments tonight. I'm still outside the 60-day window, so mostly I'm just getting a feel for neighborhoods and price ranges. I know that things are ridiculous, so I guess that's why it's not freaking me out too badly. Four of us CYLA people are going to be living together. We're looking for a two-bedroom in Korea Town. The cheapest apartments are 1300 but usually they run in the 1500-1800 range and up from there. Between the four of us, that'll be about half of our monthly combined income. Woohoo AmeriCorps jobs and volunteer pay.
I don't know why moving out to Los Angeles makes me want to panic sometimes. I mean, I know that it's totally understandable. Reasons that it should freak me out:
I think that it makes me panic because I'm afraid that I'm going to fail and end up doing something that I don't believe in because I couldn't cut it out there. I've never really failed at anything that I've really wanted to do. In fact, I usually am spectacularly successful. I have high expectations for myself...and I don't want to disappoint myself or others.
My hometown breaks down like this: 60% are perfectly content staying here forever, 30% screamed so loud about getting out in school, but they had no follow-through and they ended up back in Tifton, broken, pregnant, getting married, dreamless, goalless, and full of compromise. The last 10%...well, we're the one's who went off to school...the one's who left town. Of that, maybe 4% of us will get our degree. And maybe, just maybe, a couple dozen of us will leave the state of Georgia and go on to fantastic things.
I want so much more than where I come from. It's a nice place to hail from, but you have to go somewhere else to hail from there. So, I guess what I'm saying is, I'm going to have to fuck my fear. Because I can't stay here...and I've made a commitment.
As a wise woman once texted me when I almost killed some people outside a Carraba's: It's a challenge now, and we don't lose challenges.
Damn straight.
I started looking for apartments tonight. I'm still outside the 60-day window, so mostly I'm just getting a feel for neighborhoods and price ranges. I know that things are ridiculous, so I guess that's why it's not freaking me out too badly. Four of us CYLA people are going to be living together. We're looking for a two-bedroom in Korea Town. The cheapest apartments are 1300 but usually they run in the 1500-1800 range and up from there. Between the four of us, that'll be about half of our monthly combined income. Woohoo AmeriCorps jobs and volunteer pay.
I don't know why moving out to Los Angeles makes me want to panic sometimes. I mean, I know that it's totally understandable. Reasons that it should freak me out:
- Rome, GA (population: 45,000) is the largest place that I have ever lived. My hometown, Tifton, GA has a population of 28,000, which is about 3/10 of a single percent of the size of LA. There are more than 10x the amount of people in my hometown in the five square miles of Korea Town.
- This is the first place that I'll have lived outside of the normal education plan. I lived at home and then college. This is the first place where I really have to take care of my self.
- I don't know how to survive in a city. I really don't want to be in charge of apartment hunting and whatnot in my group, but my type-A personality just won't let me take a backseat.
I think that it makes me panic because I'm afraid that I'm going to fail and end up doing something that I don't believe in because I couldn't cut it out there. I've never really failed at anything that I've really wanted to do. In fact, I usually am spectacularly successful. I have high expectations for myself...and I don't want to disappoint myself or others.
My hometown breaks down like this: 60% are perfectly content staying here forever, 30% screamed so loud about getting out in school, but they had no follow-through and they ended up back in Tifton, broken, pregnant, getting married, dreamless, goalless, and full of compromise. The last 10%...well, we're the one's who went off to school...the one's who left town. Of that, maybe 4% of us will get our degree. And maybe, just maybe, a couple dozen of us will leave the state of Georgia and go on to fantastic things.
I want so much more than where I come from. It's a nice place to hail from, but you have to go somewhere else to hail from there. So, I guess what I'm saying is, I'm going to have to fuck my fear. Because I can't stay here...and I've made a commitment.
As a wise woman once texted me when I almost killed some people outside a Carraba's: It's a challenge now, and we don't lose challenges.
Damn straight.
Pet Peeve #1
This is my biggest grammar peeve.
When modifying the verb of a sentence with the adjective "bad," it becomes the adverb "badly."
For instance, the sentence "I had to shit so bad," should instead be replaced with the phrase "I had to shit so badly."
Learn it, love it, use it.
Move on.
When modifying the verb of a sentence with the adjective "bad," it becomes the adverb "badly."
For instance, the sentence "I had to shit so bad," should instead be replaced with the phrase "I had to shit so badly."
Learn it, love it, use it.
Move on.
My TV Addictions
Right now, there are five shows that I watch all the time on cable:
My favorite show of all time, however, is Buffy, the Vampire Slayer. I like anything that's going to push the envelope and either be interesting visually or stylistically. There's only so far that plot can take a show; I want something original. That's why I liked the really short-lived Pushing Daisies (thanks, writer's strike). Was the writing or concept the best in the world? No, but I'd watch that show all the time to see what it was going to look like (reminded me a lot of the style of the movie Down With Love). I like sardonic humor and good writing, so I'm in for a Dead Like Me, Scrubs, or anything by Joss Whedon. I also like high camp (if it's mixed with aforementioned taste, humor, and good writing).
Which brings me to a show that I stumbled across while reviewing The Daily Beast today. A new show came out on Fox this past Tuesday. It's called Glee. I remember vaguely seeing a trailer for it in the last few months, but I totally had forgotten that it was coming out. It follows a Spanish teacher who is trying to not only start a family but also to revitalize his high school's Glee club. Mixed with a pretty standard mix of characters (the gay guy, the wheelchair kid, the diva, the entitled girl, and the jock who is also artistic), the show has great potential to flop. But, I think it might just make a go of it. Here's why:
Formulas like this happen because they're successful. We've seen this movie before, but that doesn't mean we're not open to seeing it in a new way. This show is CAMP-Y! In the first episode, we've got a teacher fired for flirting with a student, that same teacher becoming a drug dealer, a guidance counselor with OCD and a germ disorder, a rival glee club singing "Rehab," and they always fabulous Jane Lynch as the cheerleading coach spouting one liners like "You think this is hard? Waterboarding is hard!" and "You want to know about pain? I've got herpes!" while coaching her girls.
The show makes high school out to be a caste system with some wiggle room. Sure, the characters are two dimensional, but they're still fun. And if the writing stays good, I'm going to stay with it. Sure, it's not the best show I've ever seen, but it was good enough that my theatre training can't let go of a campy rendition of an Asian girl with a stutter singing "I Kissed a Girl" or the talented girl screaming "There is nothing ironic about show choir!"
And maybe there isn't, but I hope this show remains detached enough to stay true to what it is: entertaining fluff, not soul-wrenching fare. And Fox, having both Dollhouse and Glee has moved in my mind from the white trash network (which it still is with its American Idol 3000 and whatnot) to being semi-respectable for being willing to take a chance.
Update: Wtf, Fox? So, this was just the pilot teaser and Glee doesn't actually premiere until September? That's so...gay!
- Dollhouse
- Dexter
- Law and Order: Criminal Intent
- Law and Order: Special Victims Unit
- Jeopardy
My favorite show of all time, however, is Buffy, the Vampire Slayer. I like anything that's going to push the envelope and either be interesting visually or stylistically. There's only so far that plot can take a show; I want something original. That's why I liked the really short-lived Pushing Daisies (thanks, writer's strike). Was the writing or concept the best in the world? No, but I'd watch that show all the time to see what it was going to look like (reminded me a lot of the style of the movie Down With Love). I like sardonic humor and good writing, so I'm in for a Dead Like Me, Scrubs, or anything by Joss Whedon. I also like high camp (if it's mixed with aforementioned taste, humor, and good writing).
Which brings me to a show that I stumbled across while reviewing The Daily Beast today. A new show came out on Fox this past Tuesday. It's called Glee. I remember vaguely seeing a trailer for it in the last few months, but I totally had forgotten that it was coming out. It follows a Spanish teacher who is trying to not only start a family but also to revitalize his high school's Glee club. Mixed with a pretty standard mix of characters (the gay guy, the wheelchair kid, the diva, the entitled girl, and the jock who is also artistic), the show has great potential to flop. But, I think it might just make a go of it. Here's why:
Formulas like this happen because they're successful. We've seen this movie before, but that doesn't mean we're not open to seeing it in a new way. This show is CAMP-Y! In the first episode, we've got a teacher fired for flirting with a student, that same teacher becoming a drug dealer, a guidance counselor with OCD and a germ disorder, a rival glee club singing "Rehab," and they always fabulous Jane Lynch as the cheerleading coach spouting one liners like "You think this is hard? Waterboarding is hard!" and "You want to know about pain? I've got herpes!" while coaching her girls.
The show makes high school out to be a caste system with some wiggle room. Sure, the characters are two dimensional, but they're still fun. And if the writing stays good, I'm going to stay with it. Sure, it's not the best show I've ever seen, but it was good enough that my theatre training can't let go of a campy rendition of an Asian girl with a stutter singing "I Kissed a Girl" or the talented girl screaming "There is nothing ironic about show choir!"
And maybe there isn't, but I hope this show remains detached enough to stay true to what it is: entertaining fluff, not soul-wrenching fare. And Fox, having both Dollhouse and Glee has moved in my mind from the white trash network (which it still is with its American Idol 3000 and whatnot) to being semi-respectable for being willing to take a chance.
Update: Wtf, Fox? So, this was just the pilot teaser and Glee doesn't actually premiere until September? That's so...gay!
Mom. Dad. I'm a Liberal.
I've spent most of the last few days watching movies on demand on Netflix...lot of stand-up comedy and documentaries. If you haven't seen John Waters: This Filthy World yet, order this documentary...pirate it...I don't care. I thought it was fantastic. It's just a recording of a talk that Waters gave about society and his movies and I thought it was fantastic. I usually hate movies like that (I didn't care for either of the Evening with Kevin Smith films).
---
I have no idea why I'm a liberal. I don't know if many people can sit down and sass out (I've obviously been watching way too much Buffy) why they believe what they do. I guess that people who sit on issues from a socially conservative standpoint can point to their religious doctrines. People who have been successful under the status quo can always sit under the idea that the way things have been done is the way that they should be done from here on out.
But the more I learn about politics, and the more I study the issues that I feel passionately about, I learn that the issues are not really about the issues. It's about the way that the issues are framed. I was reading this book on the history of the abortion debate from the mid-1980's to the present day, and it's central thesis is that the initial pro-choice stance of the 1980's was protected by re-framing the issue as an issue of governmental regulation instead of as a women's rights issue, because limiting government interference is a more sellable subject than protecting women's rights. This same re-framing is what has led to pro-life victories on requirements of parental and/or spousal notification and the limiting of access to abortions to impoverished women.
I'm pretty liberal. By that, I mean I was the most liberal person in both the English and Theatre Departments at Shorter. I'm certainly the most liberal preson in my family...and probably in my wider social circle. Somehow, I've become the opposite of the majority of my family politically. And I don't know how I got there. All I know is that my positions make sense to me, as I imagine other people's stances make sense to themselves, even if they can't determine how they initially arrived at their position.
I know that I'm pro-gay rights because I'm gay. I'm pro-choice because I've seen a lot of lives of both children and adults ruined by unexpected and unwanted pregnancies. I'm anti-death penalty. I'm pro-state funding for the arts. I'm anti-censorship. I'm pro-women's rights. I'm pro-civic rights. I'm pro-corporate responsibility. Piece-by-piece I have accepted the entire leftist agenda. But, and maybe this is because of my youth, I don't agree with "soccer mom liberalism."
I've got an aunt who used to be a lot of fun. And then, she had her second child and suddenly she went off her trolley and started checking the sodium content on food and comparing the prices of pencils on a unit basis and all of these sorts of things. Suddenly, mixed into her private choices was an overwhelming amount of protectionism that I hadn't seen before. I see this happening in a lot of liberals. They want to allow everything to exist, and then they want to protect people (children especially) from anything that they're uncomfortable.
I'm sorry, two quick truths about life:
-Anything newsworthy or artistic should make someone uncomfortable.
-Everything worth doing leaves bruises.
You can't make everything safe, and by limiting the distances people can go to achieve this "safety," you undermine the principles that defended these limits in the first place.
As a child, I was told that I was free to be whatever I wanted to be because this was America and that was the American Dream. And, because I was a smart child, I wanted to know everything. I came to the conclusion that to explore and to break new ground, I had to do away with limits. And then, in high school, I went through a period where I wasn't honest to myself or anyone else about who I was or what I liked...and afterwards, when I finally began speaking for myself, it was so much better. To have a day without limits...maybe that's my goal.
But I've remained pleasant and approachable politically...and I hope to always stay that way.
---
I have no idea why I'm a liberal. I don't know if many people can sit down and sass out (I've obviously been watching way too much Buffy) why they believe what they do. I guess that people who sit on issues from a socially conservative standpoint can point to their religious doctrines. People who have been successful under the status quo can always sit under the idea that the way things have been done is the way that they should be done from here on out.
But the more I learn about politics, and the more I study the issues that I feel passionately about, I learn that the issues are not really about the issues. It's about the way that the issues are framed. I was reading this book on the history of the abortion debate from the mid-1980's to the present day, and it's central thesis is that the initial pro-choice stance of the 1980's was protected by re-framing the issue as an issue of governmental regulation instead of as a women's rights issue, because limiting government interference is a more sellable subject than protecting women's rights. This same re-framing is what has led to pro-life victories on requirements of parental and/or spousal notification and the limiting of access to abortions to impoverished women.
I'm pretty liberal. By that, I mean I was the most liberal person in both the English and Theatre Departments at Shorter. I'm certainly the most liberal preson in my family...and probably in my wider social circle. Somehow, I've become the opposite of the majority of my family politically. And I don't know how I got there. All I know is that my positions make sense to me, as I imagine other people's stances make sense to themselves, even if they can't determine how they initially arrived at their position.
I know that I'm pro-gay rights because I'm gay. I'm pro-choice because I've seen a lot of lives of both children and adults ruined by unexpected and unwanted pregnancies. I'm anti-death penalty. I'm pro-state funding for the arts. I'm anti-censorship. I'm pro-women's rights. I'm pro-civic rights. I'm pro-corporate responsibility. Piece-by-piece I have accepted the entire leftist agenda. But, and maybe this is because of my youth, I don't agree with "soccer mom liberalism."
I've got an aunt who used to be a lot of fun. And then, she had her second child and suddenly she went off her trolley and started checking the sodium content on food and comparing the prices of pencils on a unit basis and all of these sorts of things. Suddenly, mixed into her private choices was an overwhelming amount of protectionism that I hadn't seen before. I see this happening in a lot of liberals. They want to allow everything to exist, and then they want to protect people (children especially) from anything that they're uncomfortable.
I'm sorry, two quick truths about life:
-Anything newsworthy or artistic should make someone uncomfortable.
-Everything worth doing leaves bruises.
You can't make everything safe, and by limiting the distances people can go to achieve this "safety," you undermine the principles that defended these limits in the first place.
As a child, I was told that I was free to be whatever I wanted to be because this was America and that was the American Dream. And, because I was a smart child, I wanted to know everything. I came to the conclusion that to explore and to break new ground, I had to do away with limits. And then, in high school, I went through a period where I wasn't honest to myself or anyone else about who I was or what I liked...and afterwards, when I finally began speaking for myself, it was so much better. To have a day without limits...maybe that's my goal.
But I've remained pleasant and approachable politically...and I hope to always stay that way.
Stories from the Past: Dot's Gun
Today, I had to go into town to make some phone calls (don't ask...), go by the bank, and drop off a letter at the post office. Of that, I only accomplished making one of the two phone calls I needed to make. It wasn't that I got busy, necessarily. I mean, yesterday I watched the last 14 episodes of Buffy Season 5 (a fantastic way to spend a stormy Sunday if I do say so myself). I was talking to my mother...and then to my father when my mom went to rehearsal. And they were both in the mood to tell me stories about my family. Naturally, I probed the deep dark past. I got answers to a lot of questions that had been puzzling me for a while...but I promised my mother that the stories wouldn't end up on this blog...well, most of them.
Okay, some of them.
Anyway, here's a snippet of a story from this afternoon:
My Grandma Dot shot her husband in the leg.
Okay, not exactly. See, the thing is, my G'ma Dot (my mom's mom) has been married eight times, and the man she was married to at the time, DeWitt, was husband number two. My mom was sixteen and she and her younger brother David were the only two of her four siblings who were still at home. G'ma Dot and DeWitt met, got married, and things seemed to be okay. And then, things started to go bad. DeWitt started drinking and acting crazy. And my grandmother, back in her firecracker days, wasn't going to have any of that.
DeWitt was standing out on the front porch, drunk and banging on the door, demanding to be let in. He was a big man...250 pounds...over six feet...and redneck as hell. Mixing his upbringing with his liquid courage, he pounded on the door, promising that he would beat the hell out of Dot the moment he got inside. My grandmother knew that he wasn't lying. So, she went back to her bedroom, pulled out her pistol, ran to the front door, and shot through the door.
DeWitt immediately began cussing her for all that she was worth and started limping back to his car. Dottie (my mom) screamed "Shoot him again!" Dot barely nicked the man...the bullet when clean through his pants and only grazed his legs (Tis merely a flesh wound). DeWitt drove off, but he swore that he'd be back and get his revenge.
Dot believed that he would be back and that he'd do exactly what he said. She was effectively now a single woman who had two children to look after and protect. So, she pulled a disappearing act. In the course of that single night, she moved all of her stuff out of the house that she shared with DeWitt. She quit her job so that he couldn't follow her to her new house from work and got a new job. She moved on and considered divorcing DeWitt to protect herself and her children.
Well, DeWitt got off the sauce. And Dot came back to him. By this time, DeWitt's daughter (from a previous marriage, as all of Dot's kids were from her first marriage as well) had gotten pregnant and, because she was...white trash-y...she gave the baby to Dot and DeWitt to raise. Well, DeWitt started drinking again. And Dot wasn't going to stand it. So, she pulled another disappearing act. This time, she got her mother Eula involved, and they disappeared with David to Panama City Beach...but not before dropping that baby off at DeWitt's parents house. It was hard to lose that baby, but it was easier to lose that baby than lose her life...and that's how the Panama City chapter of my mother's life began.
Okay, some of them.
Anyway, here's a snippet of a story from this afternoon:
My Grandma Dot shot her husband in the leg.
Okay, not exactly. See, the thing is, my G'ma Dot (my mom's mom) has been married eight times, and the man she was married to at the time, DeWitt, was husband number two. My mom was sixteen and she and her younger brother David were the only two of her four siblings who were still at home. G'ma Dot and DeWitt met, got married, and things seemed to be okay. And then, things started to go bad. DeWitt started drinking and acting crazy. And my grandmother, back in her firecracker days, wasn't going to have any of that.
DeWitt was standing out on the front porch, drunk and banging on the door, demanding to be let in. He was a big man...250 pounds...over six feet...and redneck as hell. Mixing his upbringing with his liquid courage, he pounded on the door, promising that he would beat the hell out of Dot the moment he got inside. My grandmother knew that he wasn't lying. So, she went back to her bedroom, pulled out her pistol, ran to the front door, and shot through the door.
DeWitt immediately began cussing her for all that she was worth and started limping back to his car. Dottie (my mom) screamed "Shoot him again!" Dot barely nicked the man...the bullet when clean through his pants and only grazed his legs (Tis merely a flesh wound). DeWitt drove off, but he swore that he'd be back and get his revenge.
Dot believed that he would be back and that he'd do exactly what he said. She was effectively now a single woman who had two children to look after and protect. So, she pulled a disappearing act. In the course of that single night, she moved all of her stuff out of the house that she shared with DeWitt. She quit her job so that he couldn't follow her to her new house from work and got a new job. She moved on and considered divorcing DeWitt to protect herself and her children.
Well, DeWitt got off the sauce. And Dot came back to him. By this time, DeWitt's daughter (from a previous marriage, as all of Dot's kids were from her first marriage as well) had gotten pregnant and, because she was...white trash-y...she gave the baby to Dot and DeWitt to raise. Well, DeWitt started drinking again. And Dot wasn't going to stand it. So, she pulled another disappearing act. This time, she got her mother Eula involved, and they disappeared with David to Panama City Beach...but not before dropping that baby off at DeWitt's parents house. It was hard to lose that baby, but it was easier to lose that baby than lose her life...and that's how the Panama City chapter of my mother's life began.
Last Weekend at Shorter
I keep a drafted blog update where I keep ideas for things to blog about when something interesting doesn't happen over the course of my day. However, I've really got to start getting more specific, because I no longer understand two of the things that I could potentially write about...so, if any of you from my past get what I mean by "Gangs by gender" or "The Castle," please clue me in...because I really have no idea.
Recap of graduation weekend (Warning: Long story coming):
I graduated last Saturday with a BA in English and Theatre, summa cum laude and with honors...there was a lot of symbology happening next to my name on grad day. Anywho, so the night before that, we had Bacchalaureate, which sounds like it would be a lot of fun--it sounds kind of like Bacchanalia, and thus I assumed that we were getting together as a class one last time to have a rocking good time and drink. But sadly, this didn't happen. Which is why I'm glad I took a book. Somehow, it ended up with all of us sitting in the gym listening to some guy give a sermon. His sermon lasted exactly the same length of time that it took me to re-read The House of Yes. I picked the perfect book for this occasion.
Post-Bacchalaureate, the senior theatre class went to Los Portales...there ended up being about twenty of us in the party. However, Nick, William, Trey, and I were the first four to arrive. Big mistake to come to this restaurant. I knew that there was a reason that I always stayed at my beloved Los Palmas. This place was a hate crime waiting to happen. We walked in the front door and everyone stopped and started staring at us. The people who were being cashed out at the register started talking amongst themselves, saying they could take us if it came to it. Finally, we were seated...in the middle of the restaurant. So, now we're four queens feeling threatened, and we're getting eyes from all over the place.
You know, I really forget that homophobia exists until I'm confronted with it. Most people are so cool and understanding...wait, no, that's just the world around myself that I've created, but whatever.
So, I hung around this place for about an hour and a half (even their chips and dip were gross), and then I went out and grabbed wings with Catie, Krystin, Paul, and Chris. Ate a ton of wings. Went home. Packed. Watched the Dollhouse finale. Slept.
Graduation. Yes, I'm sitting on the front row between a girl I went to high school with and Amy Goggins. The speaker offended me by preaching prosperity gospel and by saying that we as a class should go out and "sell ourselves." I got my diploma (just one, despite the two degrees...their both BAs, so the degrees would have look the exact same. I get it...I just don't agree). As my mother tells it:
On her way to get to me, my mother falls down a ravine. I can't say anything to her except, "Did you fall, Dot?" Two black guys help her up. They all go to Gondoliers and I tell them that I'll be there as soon as the theatre grad photo is over. I'm thinking twenty minutes tops.
In the fifty minutes that I was at the Theatre photo, here's what happened:
-I almost lose my hat and robe.
-Stephanie gets a note in a sealed envelope from Audrey. Audrey says read this when you have time. While waiting on people to make it to the green room to get the picture made, Stephanie opens the note, which expresses the general theme that although she has denied it for a while, Audrey does have feelings for Michael (Stephanie's ex-bf from about a year ago). Someone said the word "cheated" and the room lost its shit. I'm not going to weigh in my opinion here (I'm too much of a lady to use that kind of language), but the timing was shit-tastic. Of course one more crisis is how 2009 STD would end its time.
-Got grad gifts from Mr. B and Georgie. Georgie gave me a novel planner...which I'm about to start using. Mr. B gave all the seniors a book about dreams...and he said, as I was hugging him, that he gave me two books. I didn't get two books and I glanced around and saw that Grant had two...no big. I didn't even mention it because I figure that the universe said he needed it more.
-Was an hour late to lunch. My grandmother and Lani were being stoic. They left about ten minutes after I got there because Lani had to be back. My G'ma Dot couldn't stay after the ceremony because her feet were hurting too badly. Extended family was a little low on the gushing pride...which is kind of what I expected and I'm a little whatever about it all. They didn't come to my Capstone show for one reason or another. Which is totally fine...if you didn't want to come, I didn't want you there. But to not understand that that was the night that I graduated and that walking around in the robe was just some pomp and pageantry...you don't get me or what I do at all. So, lunch was okay...I ate a salad and two bites of pasta.
Outside the restaurant, I stopped my family and told them that Trey's family might be at the apartment when we got back. I told them that Trey's family didn't know that Trey was gay. They immediately began laughing. My mother said, "They have to know. Have they met him?" She thought about it for another second and asked, "Where are they from? The moon?" That made my day and has that racheted to the number one spot on quotes from my mother.
We moved me out and I said goodbye to Shorter. Btw, the SM keys got found. Apparently, I gave them to Chris. I must have been drunk or a zombie when this happened, because I have no recollection of this. I mean, they went missing in the middle of my show...if I would have just kept them, I wouldn't have had to take the lid off of the weapons closet to get the gun.
I spent the night with Krystin in the torrential downpour. And that ends this story, because I fear that I'm starting to ramble.
Tomorrow, I promise an honest-to-God reflection on something...today, all I had in me was plot.
Oh, and theatre folken, you might want to take a gander at indiemonos.blogspot.com. I promised you, didn't I?
Recap of graduation weekend (Warning: Long story coming):
I graduated last Saturday with a BA in English and Theatre, summa cum laude and with honors...there was a lot of symbology happening next to my name on grad day. Anywho, so the night before that, we had Bacchalaureate, which sounds like it would be a lot of fun--it sounds kind of like Bacchanalia, and thus I assumed that we were getting together as a class one last time to have a rocking good time and drink. But sadly, this didn't happen. Which is why I'm glad I took a book. Somehow, it ended up with all of us sitting in the gym listening to some guy give a sermon. His sermon lasted exactly the same length of time that it took me to re-read The House of Yes. I picked the perfect book for this occasion.
Post-Bacchalaureate, the senior theatre class went to Los Portales...there ended up being about twenty of us in the party. However, Nick, William, Trey, and I were the first four to arrive. Big mistake to come to this restaurant. I knew that there was a reason that I always stayed at my beloved Los Palmas. This place was a hate crime waiting to happen. We walked in the front door and everyone stopped and started staring at us. The people who were being cashed out at the register started talking amongst themselves, saying they could take us if it came to it. Finally, we were seated...in the middle of the restaurant. So, now we're four queens feeling threatened, and we're getting eyes from all over the place.
You know, I really forget that homophobia exists until I'm confronted with it. Most people are so cool and understanding...wait, no, that's just the world around myself that I've created, but whatever.
So, I hung around this place for about an hour and a half (even their chips and dip were gross), and then I went out and grabbed wings with Catie, Krystin, Paul, and Chris. Ate a ton of wings. Went home. Packed. Watched the Dollhouse finale. Slept.
Graduation. Yes, I'm sitting on the front row between a girl I went to high school with and Amy Goggins. The speaker offended me by preaching prosperity gospel and by saying that we as a class should go out and "sell ourselves." I got my diploma (just one, despite the two degrees...their both BAs, so the degrees would have look the exact same. I get it...I just don't agree). As my mother tells it:
"I was about to start clapping for you when they said 'John McGowan Freeman, summa cum laude,' but before I could, I pulled my hands apart and the room burst into cheers and applause. You have a lot of fans."I spent my time wisely and I'm well-liked (though how the hell that happened, I have no idea). Anywho, at the end of the ceremony, it was raining so they couldn't let us proceed out into the weather. Instead, they circled us around a back way and ended up holding us behind the stage of graduation. To the left of me (seeing as I was like sixth in line) were a line of fire doors that were propped open. I grabbed my regalia to my chest and turned to my friends, "You coming?" and I stormed out the door to look for my family. What were they going to do to me for not following their rules? Not let me graduate? Already done. Take my diploma back? From my cold, dead, rotting fingers. Anywho, I walk up the hill to go find my family...I am literally the only graduate who made it up there for about ten minutes. So, I see all my profs and whatnot.
On her way to get to me, my mother falls down a ravine. I can't say anything to her except, "Did you fall, Dot?" Two black guys help her up. They all go to Gondoliers and I tell them that I'll be there as soon as the theatre grad photo is over. I'm thinking twenty minutes tops.
In the fifty minutes that I was at the Theatre photo, here's what happened:
-I almost lose my hat and robe.
-Stephanie gets a note in a sealed envelope from Audrey. Audrey says read this when you have time. While waiting on people to make it to the green room to get the picture made, Stephanie opens the note, which expresses the general theme that although she has denied it for a while, Audrey does have feelings for Michael (Stephanie's ex-bf from about a year ago). Someone said the word "cheated" and the room lost its shit. I'm not going to weigh in my opinion here (I'm too much of a lady to use that kind of language), but the timing was shit-tastic. Of course one more crisis is how 2009 STD would end its time.
-Got grad gifts from Mr. B and Georgie. Georgie gave me a novel planner...which I'm about to start using. Mr. B gave all the seniors a book about dreams...and he said, as I was hugging him, that he gave me two books. I didn't get two books and I glanced around and saw that Grant had two...no big. I didn't even mention it because I figure that the universe said he needed it more.
-Was an hour late to lunch. My grandmother and Lani were being stoic. They left about ten minutes after I got there because Lani had to be back. My G'ma Dot couldn't stay after the ceremony because her feet were hurting too badly. Extended family was a little low on the gushing pride...which is kind of what I expected and I'm a little whatever about it all. They didn't come to my Capstone show for one reason or another. Which is totally fine...if you didn't want to come, I didn't want you there. But to not understand that that was the night that I graduated and that walking around in the robe was just some pomp and pageantry...you don't get me or what I do at all. So, lunch was okay...I ate a salad and two bites of pasta.
Outside the restaurant, I stopped my family and told them that Trey's family might be at the apartment when we got back. I told them that Trey's family didn't know that Trey was gay. They immediately began laughing. My mother said, "They have to know. Have they met him?" She thought about it for another second and asked, "Where are they from? The moon?" That made my day and has that racheted to the number one spot on quotes from my mother.
We moved me out and I said goodbye to Shorter. Btw, the SM keys got found. Apparently, I gave them to Chris. I must have been drunk or a zombie when this happened, because I have no recollection of this. I mean, they went missing in the middle of my show...if I would have just kept them, I wouldn't have had to take the lid off of the weapons closet to get the gun.
I spent the night with Krystin in the torrential downpour. And that ends this story, because I fear that I'm starting to ramble.
Tomorrow, I promise an honest-to-God reflection on something...today, all I had in me was plot.
Oh, and theatre folken, you might want to take a gander at indiemonos.blogspot.com. I promised you, didn't I?
In Defense of Community Theatre
First off, I want to say that I know I haven't updated in a hot forever, but that's going to change because I'm spending today building up an archive of things that I've wanted to write about but that I just haven't had the time or the energy or whatever to work on. Thus, check back, because I should be going back to a nearly-daily posting schedule.
Tonight, submitted for the approval of the Midnight Society, I give you
The Tift Theatre Proudly Presents--In Defense of Community Theatres
Having just graduated from Shorter College with my degrees in Theatre and English, I've spent a fair amount of the last month trying to figure out if it was indeed worth it to study in these fields. I mean, neither of them really do any concrete "good" in the world, and my talents might better have been used in the fields of medicine, law, or business. However, this isn't where my passions lay, so instead, I amassed student debt so that I could learn about what I love to do. I easily know twice the amount of things now that I did when I started college, and I met fantastic people, so I consider the experience well worth it. But that's not what I want to talk about. Instead, I want to pose the question: Is theatre here to stay?
I know that I'm going to come back to this topic a lot over the course of this summer, but I feel like there's a lot to be said on this subject. With the average cost of producing a Broadway level musical in the millions of dollars, at what point does theatre go from being an art form into being a business? If it costs so much start-up money to produce a show, then won't art necessarily be strangled by the need for (in the words of Salman Rushdie) a "surefire smasharoonie?" I don't know. There are groups that are subsidized by the government and private firms that allow them the chance for more artistic experimentation. Further, educational theatre is alive and well (and not just living in Paris), and thus, at least that venue is still open to trying things that might prove to be colossal failures.
But, regardless of the artistic or business future of theatre, I don't think that community theatres will ever completely go away. And that's not because I see them as integral parts of the local community arts scene or that they will always be supported. Neither of those statements is always necessarily true. Instead, I think community theatre will stick around because it has the weird knack of saving lives.
That may seem weird, and I don't really have anything to go on except anecdotal evidence, but here we go:
-In high school, I knew a girl who wanted to kill herself. She was the scenic charge artist for her local theatre group, though. She didn't kill herself because there were people counting on her to finish the backdrop. By the time she got done with it, her dark moment had passed.
-All of the theatre groups I've ever been a part of have adopted the mentality that everyone belongs. Granted, not everyone belongs on stage, but there is a job in theatre that you can do well if you want to hang around. If you're around, we will put you to work.
-There are no losers in theatre. Scratch that. There are a lot of losers in theatre. And a lot of freaks. And a lot of weirdos. And we all hate that pretty girl who only sings okay but somehow gets all the leads. We're all shooting daggers at her. And that binds us together.
-Community theatre proves that you don't have to have money or be a professional to attempt greatness. Sure, money makes it easier. But, to put it together with a budget of beg/borrow/steal...that takes creativity.
-People who work community theatre care a lot more than some people I know who want to be professionals. Sure, some people are paid to manage community theatres, but the majority of the people you see hanging around are volunteers. They're there because they love it. They're there because they don't belong anywhere else. They're there because someone has to be. They have jobs and lives and families completely removed from theatre. But they're there because they love it and they want to keep doing it. And I think that that passion is really cool.
So, yeah, community theatres need to turn a profit. And yeah, they can't do the edgiest stuff out there. So what? I'll sit through the millionth revival of Grease and yet another play that was turned into a movie to see some passion. It may not be the best thing in the world, but its done by people care.
I don't know if that's enough, though. And I'll tackle quality in my next installment on Theatre.
Tonight, submitted for the approval of the Midnight Society, I give you
The Tift Theatre Proudly Presents--In Defense of Community Theatres
Having just graduated from Shorter College with my degrees in Theatre and English, I've spent a fair amount of the last month trying to figure out if it was indeed worth it to study in these fields. I mean, neither of them really do any concrete "good" in the world, and my talents might better have been used in the fields of medicine, law, or business. However, this isn't where my passions lay, so instead, I amassed student debt so that I could learn about what I love to do. I easily know twice the amount of things now that I did when I started college, and I met fantastic people, so I consider the experience well worth it. But that's not what I want to talk about. Instead, I want to pose the question: Is theatre here to stay?
I know that I'm going to come back to this topic a lot over the course of this summer, but I feel like there's a lot to be said on this subject. With the average cost of producing a Broadway level musical in the millions of dollars, at what point does theatre go from being an art form into being a business? If it costs so much start-up money to produce a show, then won't art necessarily be strangled by the need for (in the words of Salman Rushdie) a "surefire smasharoonie?" I don't know. There are groups that are subsidized by the government and private firms that allow them the chance for more artistic experimentation. Further, educational theatre is alive and well (and not just living in Paris), and thus, at least that venue is still open to trying things that might prove to be colossal failures.
But, regardless of the artistic or business future of theatre, I don't think that community theatres will ever completely go away. And that's not because I see them as integral parts of the local community arts scene or that they will always be supported. Neither of those statements is always necessarily true. Instead, I think community theatre will stick around because it has the weird knack of saving lives.
That may seem weird, and I don't really have anything to go on except anecdotal evidence, but here we go:
-In high school, I knew a girl who wanted to kill herself. She was the scenic charge artist for her local theatre group, though. She didn't kill herself because there were people counting on her to finish the backdrop. By the time she got done with it, her dark moment had passed.
-All of the theatre groups I've ever been a part of have adopted the mentality that everyone belongs. Granted, not everyone belongs on stage, but there is a job in theatre that you can do well if you want to hang around. If you're around, we will put you to work.
-There are no losers in theatre. Scratch that. There are a lot of losers in theatre. And a lot of freaks. And a lot of weirdos. And we all hate that pretty girl who only sings okay but somehow gets all the leads. We're all shooting daggers at her. And that binds us together.
-Community theatre proves that you don't have to have money or be a professional to attempt greatness. Sure, money makes it easier. But, to put it together with a budget of beg/borrow/steal...that takes creativity.
-People who work community theatre care a lot more than some people I know who want to be professionals. Sure, some people are paid to manage community theatres, but the majority of the people you see hanging around are volunteers. They're there because they love it. They're there because they don't belong anywhere else. They're there because someone has to be. They have jobs and lives and families completely removed from theatre. But they're there because they love it and they want to keep doing it. And I think that that passion is really cool.
So, yeah, community theatres need to turn a profit. And yeah, they can't do the edgiest stuff out there. So what? I'll sit through the millionth revival of Grease and yet another play that was turned into a movie to see some passion. It may not be the best thing in the world, but its done by people care.
I don't know if that's enough, though. And I'll tackle quality in my next installment on Theatre.
http://www.unthinkfc.com/
This link is to a coupon that gives you basically a free meal at KFC to try their new grilled chicken. How do I know about this? I certainly didn't watch Oprah when it was announced. No, my friends, this was a trending topic on Twitter today. I wanted to see why KFC was showing up in a lot of people's tweets, and the service happily obliged.
So...I'm eating lunch free this week. Bitches.
Anywho, I have to get back to the Cinco de Mayo hootenanny that is taking place in my living room before I'm labelled anti-social for the second night in a row.
Oh, and thanks to Mandy, if you've got some time, check out: www.textsfromlastnight.com
This link is to a coupon that gives you basically a free meal at KFC to try their new grilled chicken. How do I know about this? I certainly didn't watch Oprah when it was announced. No, my friends, this was a trending topic on Twitter today. I wanted to see why KFC was showing up in a lot of people's tweets, and the service happily obliged.
So...I'm eating lunch free this week. Bitches.
Anywho, I have to get back to the Cinco de Mayo hootenanny that is taking place in my living room before I'm labelled anti-social for the second night in a row.
Oh, and thanks to Mandy, if you've got some time, check out: www.textsfromlastnight.com
News that Isn't Swine Flu
If I hear nothing else about swine flu, it will be too soon.
So, to all of my friends out there who don't follow the news but are instead focused merely on panic, here's a brief update on two political events that you probably should have heard about this week:
-Senator Specter (R-PA) switched teams this week. That's right: he's gay. Okay, not really, and I'm sorry I even made that joke...it really is beneath me. Anyway, he did switch teams, making the Senate 57-40-2 (with both Independents caucusing Democrat). Wait, you may be asking yourself, that only adds up to 99. Where's the 100th senator? Remember the parable of the lost lamb? And how that sheperd left the flock of 99 lambs to go find the lost lamb? Well, that's where that senator is, if that lamb were Al Franken, and that lamb was instead wrapped up in a court case, recount, re-recount, another court case, and an appeal that will most likely result in Franken being seated some time this summer. With Franken being seated, Democrats have 60 seats in the Senate (aka a "filibuster-proof" majority). We shall see what happens with this.
-Supreme Court Justice David Souter will retire at the end of the current legislative session. Some people are whining that Obama will pick a liberal justice.
Well...obviously.
Number 1: Souter is a liberal justice. Nominated by HW Bush, this halcyon of conservatism turned out to be pretty blue. So, it doesn't add anything to the liberalism of the court.
Number 2: W Bush nominated two of the most conservative members of the Court. Why shouldn't Obama nominate progressivess?
Number 3: Can we please get another woman? I mean, Ginsberg has got to be lonely.
Other news from my life:
-In six days, I will graduate from Shorter College with a BA in Theatre (Capstone: original work Edgar's Ashes) and a BA in English (Capstone: That's Not What I Wrote, But That's Okay: Film Adaptations of the Work of Tennessee Williams and Its Effect on the American Censorship of Film).
-14 professors of Shorter College will not be returning in the fall. Contact me if you want a full list.
-I'm about to start a new play about how internal duality of religion can destroy someone.
-Words that I had to look up in the dictionary yesterday: Quotidian (occuring everyday), solipsism (belief that the self is the only thing that can be known and reality is an illusion)
So, to all of my friends out there who don't follow the news but are instead focused merely on panic, here's a brief update on two political events that you probably should have heard about this week:
-Senator Specter (R-PA) switched teams this week. That's right: he's gay. Okay, not really, and I'm sorry I even made that joke...it really is beneath me. Anyway, he did switch teams, making the Senate 57-40-2 (with both Independents caucusing Democrat). Wait, you may be asking yourself, that only adds up to 99. Where's the 100th senator? Remember the parable of the lost lamb? And how that sheperd left the flock of 99 lambs to go find the lost lamb? Well, that's where that senator is, if that lamb were Al Franken, and that lamb was instead wrapped up in a court case, recount, re-recount, another court case, and an appeal that will most likely result in Franken being seated some time this summer. With Franken being seated, Democrats have 60 seats in the Senate (aka a "filibuster-proof" majority). We shall see what happens with this.
-Supreme Court Justice David Souter will retire at the end of the current legislative session. Some people are whining that Obama will pick a liberal justice.
Well...obviously.
Number 1: Souter is a liberal justice. Nominated by HW Bush, this halcyon of conservatism turned out to be pretty blue. So, it doesn't add anything to the liberalism of the court.
Number 2: W Bush nominated two of the most conservative members of the Court. Why shouldn't Obama nominate progressivess?
Number 3: Can we please get another woman? I mean, Ginsberg has got to be lonely.
Other news from my life:
-In six days, I will graduate from Shorter College with a BA in Theatre (Capstone: original work Edgar's Ashes) and a BA in English (Capstone: That's Not What I Wrote, But That's Okay: Film Adaptations of the Work of Tennessee Williams and Its Effect on the American Censorship of Film).
-14 professors of Shorter College will not be returning in the fall. Contact me if you want a full list.
-I'm about to start a new play about how internal duality of religion can destroy someone.
-Words that I had to look up in the dictionary yesterday: Quotidian (occuring everyday), solipsism (belief that the self is the only thing that can be known and reality is an illusion)
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