March 30, 2006

Bored with my Thoughts? Try Better Ones!

Boredom: The desire for desires

~Leo Tolstoy

I figured out how to add things to my sidebar (turns out all I had to do was think about it!) and I’ve added links to my favorite places on the web. All but ebaumsworld and addictinggames.com, because these places are full of so much spyware you’ll want to tear your hair out. I go to these places against my better judgment, then I have to spend an hour and a half doing a full virus/spyware scan with four different programs so that I can pay my credit card and cell phone bills with peace of mind.

The first one is my incentive to read. Many of my friends do book reviews, and I thought I should join them, even though my pleasure reading is far beneath any of theirs. Half an hour on the subway twice a day (at least) plus many impoverishly-bored evenings have lent themselves to developing new healthy happy habits. I’ve really read many books (well, more than typical) since I came to New York, and I just have to force myself to talk about them. So bug me. Motivate me.

March 24, 2006

ThreePirates Opera / Penny of Penzance

So I had to get the drag queen story out of my system. Now to talk about the rest of the show: The Threepenny Opera. A brand new Broadway show that will be starting previews very shortly. I’ve talked about it a little bit before, but last night was the first time I got to see the whole shebang. It was the invited dress, the very first performance in front of an audience. It was neat.

The play is by Bertolt Brecht. That name may sound familiar if you were on the Shaw trip this past fall when we went to see Happy End (“Herro, Harrerujah Ririan”), among other things. His form of writing, back in ’29, he called Epic Drama. His goal was to distance the audience from the characters and the plot in order to draw their attention to the production itself. This really pissed us all off in Happy End. But now that I’ve seen Threepenny, it makes a little more sense.

But even though it gives me a sense of pretension that I understand a little bit of what’s going on, it’s still a freakin’ weird show. Again, I’ve talked about the background enough, so the show:

Sex on stage in neon hot pants. A song titled “The Overwhelming Power of Sex.” Murder, drugs, bisexual make-outs, trannies singing in German (surprisingly well) with subtitles, etc. Truly a bizarre bohemian jewel. I don’t think people are going to like it. At least not the people that can afford to see it. I laughed—a lot. Jim Dale is truly spectacular. Cyndi Lauper surprised everyone with her talent. Nellie MacKay is great. Alan Cumming is simply the coolest person ever. And Ana Gasteyer seems to have found a comfortable new venue. I'm just excited that our education program is bringing in a bunch of kids.

Yay. Rah. Hoo. Ha.

I just want to go home.

And by home I mean Grove City.

And by Grove City I mean Pew.

Yes, I am fully aware that Pirates of Penzance is going on. The only reason I haven’t talked about it all the time is because I knew I might not be able to go. And I didn’t want to get myself excited. And I didn’t want to get everyone else excited. All just for a big fat disappointment. So that’s where we are: a disappointment. But it isn’t quite as big or as fat.

I’ve tried telling myself that watching tech for Threepenny was better because it’s on Broadway. Even when I thought I'd be able to go see Pirates, just because I wanted to gloat. But I just want to do college theatre again. It's been three months and I can't stand it. And it's getting worse. I couldn't sleep last night. I finally nodded off as the sun rose.

I do want to say "break a leg" to
Robbie - remember that time we were in TC?
Meagan - remember that time we were married?
Derrick - remember that time we were amazing on stage together?
Kate - remember that time we forgot the words for Opera Workshop?
Megan - remember that time I knocked you up in back story?
Kristen - remember that time you were a witch and I was kind of afraid?
Pat - remember that time we both drove to Newark alone?
Jes - remember thunder and lightning?
Jesse - remember Aquaman?
Dan - remember that time you didn't do theatre until I left?
Darin - remember that time I was your first director in college?
Pierce - remember being the token freshman? Same shoes, buddy.
Aaron - remember being in Creative Writing together and I was afraid to talk to you because I felt really awful about your knee?
and Doug - remember that time you were allowed to begin your second and more amazing rise to greatness after I sparked your initial decline?
Everybody else - I don't know who you are. And I blame you for making me old. I hope you really do break your legs.

But really, there’s nowhere I’d rather be right now than in the makeup room, getting makeup put on me while I put my head in Beth’s lap. Or in the costume shop where Caitlin and Laura desperately pin and glue something I broke so I can go out on stage decent. Or in the dressing room with Charlie and Josiah doing God-knows-what. Or in the booth with Shelly and Neil, on com, making fun of all the actors and pretending I’m not one. Or in the practice room with Diana and Megan or with Monica.Or in the gallery with Luke and Berkey, whining because my girly hands hurt and I don’t want to bring in the grand. Or on the grid, looking straight down on the tops of people’s heads, wasting time until they ask me to add more weight. Or sitting with a bunch of children, chewing my fingers raw hoping that everything comes together. Or in the little theatre, standing in a big circle gushing about how great everyone is and how much we’ll miss so-and-so. Or in the green room studying and counting how many people sent me flowers. Or in the back hallway, quietly hating the underclassmen techies for taking up so much space. Or at my locker, finding a note from my secret shark. Or at the Dixon’s for a lovely bite of pizza and brownies and bitter hot tea. Or at Mrs. Craig’s for some gigantic chocolate cake and finger foods galore. Or on an abandoned set couch in the back hall pretending to do homework. Or in the cats, hanging lights and envisioning myself plunging to my death. Or standing between the legs, waiting to go on, completely blanking on my lines. Or…

You get the point. I have to work now.

At Least I’ve Never Been Flashed by a Tranny-- Oh Wait…

I guess a drag queen's like an oil painting: You gotta stand back from it to
get the full effect.

~Harvey Fierstein

There are certainties that we all carry with us. These are the certainties we have reserved for the most desperate of situations. They’re so certain that they never even have to be stated. But once these certainties are challenged, your world comes crashing down. Because though it never formed as a full idea, it was something you held to strongly. One of mine, I found, was that no matter how crazy life gets, at least I’ve never been flashed by a tranny.

This is no longer true, and that makes me sad. My world has unraveled, and I am lost. All because a girl with a penis had to prove it.

March 18, 2006

We Bring the Sacrifice of Praise

King of endless worth / No one could express / How much You deserve

In lieu of leaving a long comment on James’s blog, I’ve opted to make my own entry. And just in time for Sunday.

In case you don’t believe in using a mouse when reading blogs, Collegian perspectives board member talked about how they don’t like chapel, chapel staff member responded on his blog, admissions staff member commented. Both articles are a little over-stated and opinionated, but that’s just the caliber of journalism the Collegian strives to bring to its readers.

I find contemporary worship unappealing entirely. But I do concede that it’s beneficial for certain people. Right now I’m trying to settle on a church, and it came down to two: Morning Star and Redeemer. Morning Star focuses more on worship, whereas Redeemer focuses more on the message. Btw: Tim Keller = hero of the moment.

Looking at all the pros and cons, even if the messages were exactly the same, I would still choose the “message-centered” church. Simply because contemporary worship, for me, is borderline nauseating. There is a lot of personal baggage that goes along with being a worship leader at school during a terribly trying experience at church. But even with all that aside, I know, deep down, that praise and worship is simply bad music. Not that hymns top my personal charts either, but I can’t help but silently notice the conundrum of a guitar strum in the middle of “When the music fade[strum]s,” or that I can cue a 43% increase of raised hands at the key change in Shout to the Lord, or that people are, genuinely or not, reduced to tears at what some dude named Bart “only imagines,” or that the longer we drag out [insert title here] it’s just going to sound more and more like Heart and Soul. I also can’t stand the insufferable use of apostrophes I’m forced to watch in projected PowerPoint: short’ning words of debatable syllabic value by taking out their vow’ls to ensure people made words like pow’r short enough for the tune

It takes a certain level of spiritual maturity to participate in worship like this, and I don’t know if I have more or less. All I know is I can’t, in good conscience, sing these songs and think that God’s happy about it. And I don’t want to attend a service where people look down on me for not closing my eyes and hopping with a silly grin on my face, poised to catch something bigger than a bread basket.

I never, not once, went to chapel before 9:30 and it wasn’t because I loved standing-room.

Which leads us back to Harbison. I was recently talking to a fellow graduate, and they expressed the utter liberation they’ve found in the real world after Grove City College. It wasn’t that they get to drink in their residence or that they could have people visit whenever they wanted. It was simply the fact that they wake up every morning knowing that they will never have to go to another chapel as long as they live. And this is another person who, like me, was never behind in attendance.

Chapel is failing to reach a lot of the students on campus, and it’s not the ones you would assume, like those seven people who are a minority in some way. There are genuine, faithful Christians who are feeling not encouraged and nourished but depleted and bitter about their faith strictly because of their time spent in Harbison.

And I think the problem is that there are key people who simply don’t get it. These are the people who think Clowns for Christ is a brilliant witnessing tool and that emails should be sure to express that it’s God’s will that I give a dollar for a beer glass and patio furniture. They have all the best intentions and carefully-laid plans, but the end result is a dud and many times they fail to notice.

In all of James’ accusations of Jared’s failure to see what Chapel is all about, he doesn’t really offer more than 17 minutes of exposure to a guest speaker / faith background. (And I think we can all understand his hesitance in offering Vespers as anything of value) As a tour guide, I, like our donkey friend, was trained to tell people that GCC encourages students to get involved at a local church. In the three and a half years I spent in western PA, the only decent church I found was much too far away to call it local. As a result, people are left without their church fix and have nowhere better to go, either because of mobility or finances, but ye olde cathedral. There’s a part of me that wants GCC to take more responsibility, to recognize the stagnancy of the surrounding town and to offer something better.

And my note to Jared: no, I don't think we need to sell Starbuck's in order to get people in, but it is important to avoid making church unapproachable, and throwing around terms like "Bible-thumping," and "den of theives" is, to everyone, off-putting.

Which brings us back to church for our end-of-the-post wrap up: There are genuine people out there who are searching, desperately, for people who get it. And I think it’s one of the only ways we can truly justify embrace our faith as an integral part of who we are. My main focus right now is being a normal person and a Christian at the same time. At GCC it was pretty much understood when I met people what both parties believed. Out in the real world, once people find out I’m a Christian I have to convey that I don’t think Ellen Degeneres caused Hurricane Katrina or that Eric and Dylan were out to make martyrs or that Harry Potter is the second beast of the Apocalypse. It's tough to convey that I am a genuine, kind, loving person who wants to offer more than just “have-you-ever-received-Jesus-Christ-into-your-heart-as-your-personal-Lord-and-Savior?” And I know that my church experience and my time at chapel hasn't helped any so far. But that I will hold onto for another time.

March 17, 2006

Happy St. Paddy's

Go n-éirí le séitéireacht, gadaíocht, troid, agus ólachan!
Má dhéanann tu séitéireacht, go ndéana tú séitéireacht ar an mbás,
Má ghoideann tú, go ngoide tú croí mná;
Má throideann tú, go dtroide tú i leith do bhráthar,
Agus má ólann tú, go n-óla tú liom féin.

Here's to cheating, stealing, fighting, and drinking.
If you cheat, may you cheat death.
If you steal, may you steal a woman's heart.
If you fight, may you fight for a brother.
And if you drink, may you drink with me.

March 15, 2006

Amazing, Wonderful, Incredible, Exciting-- Inconceivable!

Why do you keep saying that word? I do not think it means what you think it means.
~Mandy Patinkin

Today was all those words and more. The work day was okay, but it was when six o’clock rolled around that the most thrilling night of my entire life began. Tonight was yet another trip to the infamous Studio 54 to go to a tech rehearsal for Threepenny Opera. (note: I know nothing about this show. Nothing at all. The only reason I have an idea how one of the songs goes is a McDonald’s commercial I remember from my early childhood.)

Going to this event started off bitter-sweet because I know that I wasn’t the only one at a tech rehearsal. My beloved GCC is in tech week for their first show without me. ::Sniff:: But this is a happy post, and let me tell you why:

We’ll start with the least-thrilling and work our way up.

1) Isaac Mizrahi – Really, I just learned who he was tonight.

2) Ana Gasteyer and Alan Cumming tie for non-exciting simply because I already met them. But they were very friendly tonight. And this by no means takes away from their general awesomeness.

3) This man gets a back story. He’s in the show and came to speak to us before he performed. He introduced himself as Jim Dale. I smiled and thought, “that’s nice.” Then I started to think, Jim Dale, Jim Dale, Jim Dale… Why does that sound so familiar? Then he started to dance – really well, by the way – and I forgot to think of where I knew him from. But then he started acting, using his stage voice, and it dawned on me: He’s the voice of Harry Potter on tape!!! This is the man who has lived my dream as a voice actor, the fruition of reading HP to JZ and Charlie junior year! One of my faceless idols now has a face! And he dances, to boot!

Number four gets their own special paragraph.

To get a full grasp of this situation, we have to rewind about a month ago when I went Target to get a hanging unit for my clothes since my apartment doesn’t have a closet. While I was there, I decided to buy Me Talk Pretty One Day and The Princess Bride, because I’ve started reading on the subway and during the minutes I’m not watching TV or working or sleeping. I’ve since finished my Sedaris, and last week I started reading my Morgenstern. Pretty delightful book, great for short trips on the subway.

Fastforward to tonight. I’m watching the rehearsal and I glance to my right to see a little old man shuffle in and sit on the other side of the theatre. I poke Rachel and whisper, “is that who I think it is?!” And indeed it was: Wallace Shawn, also known as Vizzini in The Princess Bride.

Later that evening, I went to take a pee break (rehearsal was four hours) and while I’m in the bathroom, who should appear beside me? Oh yes, I peed with the Sicilian.

Of course I had the book with me in my trusty bag, and I made him sign it when the rehearsal was over. It was my most touristy moment, yet remained one of my most glorious memories.

So basically the two largest literary influences of my life collided into a beautiful evening.

March 13, 2006

a fox named Swift...

I reckon being ill as one of the great pleasures of life, provided one is not too ill and is not obliged to work till one is better.
~Samuel Butler, The Way of All Flesh

I finally went to church again last night. I’d been putting it off because I hadn’t had the opportunity to go with friends since last month. Not so much because I feel intimidated by the congregation, but because I wasn’t sure how to get there (we always meet at JZ’s and walk and I have no idea where we go). But last night, I saw that my subway has a stop literally on the front steps of Redeemer. So with all hindrances abolished, I’d better have myself a Sunday night routine. But it was great last night. Tim Keller gave yet another amazing sermon, and we went to Monsoon afterwards for some lovely Thai.

This whole weekend was very relaxing. Granted, it wasn’t nearly as amazing as birthday weekend, but I need this weekend to recover. I slept for many many hours, laid around in bed a bit, and ordered Chinese. At the same time, though, I decided to make a major life change and get healthy again. It started on Saturday when I got exceptionally bored of watching Goblet of Fire, and decided that it was a nice day and that I should go exploring in my neighborhood (I still needed to find a Laundromat). I know that I live just one block away from the Hudson, but I’d never been down there. As it turns out, there’s a huge beautiful park within five minutes of me. Instead of finding a map or something useful, I decided to simply walk its entire length and back, admiring the pool, football field, track, playgrounds, skate park, etc. I walked for a very long time and came back extraordinarily refreshed.

So I went to the grocery store, stocked up on veggies, and binged on the last of my junk food. Now I’m going to meet JZ three days a week (hopefully) to work out after work, and I hope to start getting up early on nice days and visit my park.

I was also motivated to update my resume and write a cover letter for an open position at work. I’m finally caught up with everything I had to do. I get a gold star for the day.

March 10, 2006

Eye Heart New York

So, I posted on a bad day and then didn’t post again for awhile. This, I feel, has been a bad representation of my life. To remedy this golb affliction, I simply removed my sappy self-pitying post. College yay. Real world boo. We all saw it coming.

And now, for why I love life.

I’m 22 now. It’s the first non-landmark birthday I’ve had in a long time. I guess you could call it a landmark because it’s the first non-landmark, but at best that’s antithetical and lackluster nomatter how you look at it. I guess it just kinda makes me more of an adult, but helps me realize I have a long way to go.

I celebrated my B-day at the office by bringing Nutella and pretzels to work. Kinda like when your mom used to bring cupcakes for the whole class, but with a lot less work. Afterwards me and some office friends went out to Applebee’s, which is a lot like the Applebees’ at home, but about twice as expensive.

There we had the oh-so-fun discussion of how a traditional conservative could possibly get along in this industry. The secret is to lie and to hide it. If you share your beliefs, you’re insensitive and closed-minded. If you respect those around you and stay quiet about your beliefs, they’re able to cling onto them just enough to point out that you don’t care about anyone when they find out.

So lie. And if it gets out, do your best to pretend beliefs don’t exist.

I took a long weekend, and spent the day on the train picking up my parents from JFK. Another tip: when you have friends visiting the city, tell them to get a cab. It’s an hour both ways on the train and $12 to get in and out of the airport. This is even more exhausting when you have to do it twice. Mom and Dad surprised me by flying up Randi, which was great.

It was easy to pick up right where I left off with everyone. I’d planned a whole itinerary for everyone, but I pretty much forgot about it and just did things a little spontaneously. Since it was so cold (unlike this weekend) I pretty much settled on getting them to see as many shows as possible. They’d already bought tickets for Pajama Game because they had to see my show We also went to TKTS and they got tickets to Spelling Bee, which I still haven’t seen. But I got tickets for me and Randi to see Sweeny Todd, because I knew she was a Sondheim fan, and it’s the show that PJ Game is competing with for best revival. Saturday morning Dad and I went to get Spamalot SRO tickets, then checked out the Wicked lottery just in case. Mom won the lottery, and I sold the two extra Spamalot tickets. So five shows all I all, without me being able to pull any strings, and we did it o a pretty good budget. Yay

Mom baked me a German chocolate cake, as per the tradition for my entire life. We ate about half of it, then I got to finish it over the next week in my apartment. Yay. Oh yeah, I got to stay at the Embassy Suites with them. Quiet, clean, and cable. Also yay.

I got to show everyone the World Trade Center, Times Square, Carnegie Hall, Rockefeller Center, etc. Once again, my thirst for tourism was renewed (though this weekend I think I’ll just stay at home…) But I had to act frustrated with them when they took pictures I Times Square. Mainly due to the fact that I had to stay true to my daily frustration with people who get in my way when I’m working.

I was sad when thy left, and really tired. I got to do pretty much everything I thought we should, and I think seeing me doing okay inspired their confidence in me.

This week, at our “behind the scenes look at Three Penny Opera” I got to meet Alan Cumming. He came in and was easily the coolest guy in the building. While others were dressed to impress, Alan walked in wearing purple track pants and a button-down with his work boots, sporting a blonde Mohawk. I really couldn’t think of anything to say to him like, “what possessed you to do Spy Kids?” or “are you serious about your fragrance?” All I could think of was “I-loved-you-as-nightcrawler-in-X2” so I just told him where the bar was. Unabashedly cursing up a storm while talking about his experience in show business and scratching himself hardcore, nobody took offense because of his enchanting Welsh accent. (I’m working on my Welsh, by the way. That shit’s dynamite.)

Anyway, we had lots of hors d’oeuvres like brie and lamb and raw salmon. I got to talk about a possible job opening at Roundabout. Exciting times.

March 01, 2006

if...

So I'm at JZ's and his family is introducing me to new people. This one girl looks familiar and I keep asking her questions like 'where'd you go to highschool?'
After too much hard work on my part, she shared with me that she's the butterfly Sci Fi promo girl.
See? TV can be your friend.