Non Drowsy Formula January 30, 2008

Stupid global warming.  This weather is really starting to get to my poor immune system.  I take my vitamins every day.  I drink water.  I wash my hands a lot.  So how come I’m sick?  Because everyone else is, thanks to the weather.  65 degrees one day, and 26 the next…that’s not good for the constitution.  If it’s going to be cold, lets just do it, lets get into it, lets accept it.  I’m tired of this wavering back and forth.  And I’m feeling pretty funny from the non-drowsy cough syrup I ingested, right before that three hour nap I accidentally took.   I haven’t made it to crew in the last two days…I know that the paint charge is probably cursing my name, but I just feel like crap.  The downhill progression definitely begin on Traumatic Friday last week.  I haven’t been right since.   Tomorrow is February 1st.  This makes me panic.  February 1st means that there are only five weeks left in this term, hence the midterms on Monday.  February 1st means Job Fair is in a month and a week.  February 1st means there are only four months left in my education here, and while that is exciting and joyous, it is an emotional business.  I’ve spent every waking moment with this group of roughly 60 people, and I’ve gotten comfortable (and that’s the biggest reason that it’s good that I’m moving on soon) and I feel very confident in the person I am within these confines.   Clearly, it’s time uproot everything and jump out of my comfort zone, once and for all.  Thirty consecutive years in the South is enough.  For now.   Being sick is stupid.  All I want to do is lay in bed with my computer and watch old Kathleen Turner movies.  I’m having a personal renaissance with KT…she’s rockin’ my world all over again.  She did her own stunts in Romancing The Stone.  I’m just sayin’, it takes quite a woman to swing across a ravine in the jungles of Mexico, and still be sexy in a soiled skirt suit.  I had a personal epiphany this week, and make fun if you will, but it’s true: seeing Romancing the Stone at an early age may or may not have been a formative influence in shaping my life’s dreams and tastes.  Is living on a boat my dream, or Jack T. Colton’s?  Is Joan Wilder the reason I’m attracted to sexy intellectuals with a penchant for mischief and adventure?  What if the answer is yes?  How much of a nerd does that make me?  I mean, it’s a good movie, it was a smash hit in 1984, but really?  I think I’d like to meet Kathleen Turner and tell her that she once embodied my ideal woman, essentially constructing the framework for my attraction to women.  If I were a character in the movie, But I’m A Cheerleader, Kathleen Turner would be My Root.   Wow…I should go to bed.  This cough syrup has made me say ridiculous things today.  I asked Kaylan what she thought would happen if we ran into our future selves at the Whole Foods this evening.  She asked me if she should drive the car home.   

Why Yesterday Sucked January 26, 2008

All went well until 10; my puppet class was cancelled, which is a bummer because it’s my favorite class and I totally look forward to it every week.  So, in lieu of puppets, I returned home to deal with paperwork and phone calls relating to the follow-up care from my surgery.  I can’t decide if I was irresponsible and didn’t ask the right questions, or if I was misled.  The doctor here that’s supposed to do my follow-up care just told me yesterday that there is a $1000 transfer of service fee, since I had the operation elsewhere, in addition to a $500 fee to see their psychologist, plus a $350 fee to see their dietician, plus a $400 fee to take some class for people who are thinking of getting the lap-band.  I already did it, folks.  I need to get saline put into my band as soon as possible, and the nurse I’ve been interacting with told me it would be on Feb. 2, but oops! she hadn’t put my name down in the slot for the past several weeks we’ve been talking, and it filled up, so I would have to wait until the end of Feb to see the doctor.  Which is too long to wait. Soooo, on Feb. 11th, I have to be at the airport at 5 am, to make my 1 pm appointment in Detroit (which I just made yesterday because the people in Michigan can see me sooner than the people here…totally screwy), and then hop back on a plane to return home at 5 pm.  Can I officially call myself a jet setter?   The morning was a wash…I cried by 11 am, and that’s never a good sign for the rest of the day.  I went about my business, did some homework, tried to be productive, and then decided that since I was in such a bad mood, triscuits and hummus were in order.  I left my house for twenty minutes to get said items, and by the time I returned, someone had broken into my house.  Apparently, a neighbor had come over during those twenty minutes to see if we were having problems with our water, too (the street crew that jackhammers at 7 am had busted a water main, come to find out, and our water was flowing at a trickle, making showers impossible, and flushing the toilet more than once every two hours a bit of a process) and he must have scared the person off.  Nothing was stolen, and the only signs of tampering were the chunk of wood taken out of my back door where they used a screwdriver to get in, and the jewelry box in my bedroom was open.  Nothing was stolen, but it had been rifled through.  So, in fifteen minutes or less, someone broke in, bypassed the valuable electronics laying out in the open, downstairs, and continued upstairs to my room where they looked through my jewelry box but didn’t steal anything.   These oddities make me think it might be someone who knows me and my roommate, which in turn makes me violently hostile.  If I ever caught some shady fool I knew in my house, I’d at least break one knee cap.  At least.   After all that, me and my roommate and Anchors went down the street to the diner and had dinner, and drinks.  Since I rarely drink, I was faded by 10 pm and asleep by 11:30 on the couch as the Princess Bride played in the background.  I woke up on the couch at 2, scared and disoriented, and then slept for eight MORE hours upstairs in my room.  It was an emotionally draining day.   Today has been better.  I got up at a reasonable time, I went to school and did work for five hours, and now I’m going to meet friends from Greensberry for dinner and a movie…we are going to see Juno.  I will save this weekend from being a total loss if it kills me.  Stupid Friday.   

American Gladiators, New School January 22, 2008

I was skeptical, at first, but I have to admit, I whole-heartedly endorse this makeover, this Renaissance that American Gladiators is undergoing.  It’s an exciting spectacle.  The co-host drives me crazy…I’m convinced ’she’ is a drag queen.  I call her Mary.  Hulk Hogan is large and orange, and Anchors swears that his arms are actually sculpted foam.  I’m not sure.  I think she could be right.  They really are abnormally large.  The best part of the show, in my opinion, is the Assault challenge, where if the challengers hit the target with their Nerf ball, amidst 100 mile an hour tennis balls flying at them, the gladiator at the helm is lifted off their feet, flown through glitter and pyrotechnics, and deposited, rather unceremoniously, in a large pool, face down.  They always belly flop.  It must hurt like hell.  All in all, it’s the best solution to the writers strike I’ve experienced yet.   I loved this show as a child.  

Over It January 22, 2008

I’m ready to graduate.  Now.  I am having a hard time being motivated about much, except for doing what I have to, to get the eff out of here.  I didn’t have Senioritis this bad in high school, even.  At least I am not alone in this feeling…you can see it painted on the faces of all the other seniors I pass in the halls.  Done.  All done.   We’ve been fast and furiously painting an opera ever since school got back in session, and I have to say, objectively, it looks like pure shit.  Which is such a shame…such a shame.  It’s not that we’ve done a bad paint job, it’s just that the design is a little…well…slapped together.  Everyone is started to get frustrated, now that we’ve finished three quarters of the show, and it’s becoming evident how janky everything looks, once it’s grouped together.  Oh well.  I was looking forward to another nice portfolio piece, but I don’t think that’s in the cards from this show.   My head is spinning these days, what with graduation and trying to figure out what to do (grad school?  take the first good job offered me?  move to L.A. and keep my fingers crossed for the writers strike to end?  move to Hawaii with JJJ?) and the end result is something akin to paralysis.  I’m starting to think crazy… all of a sudden, I’m very interested in a grad program at the University of Hawaii (they’ve got a great puppetry program), but the logistics of that is mind-bending.  Also, I’ve been re-inspired to take a look at the Peace Corps… I think their mission is really important and interesting, and I want to live out of the country for a couple years, and they’d pay my loans for undergrad.   The Peace Corps seems to be the Defining Moment Of Life for all the people that I know that have done it…I’d kinda like an experience like that to carry with me; knowing I can step out of my comfort zone, and give my time and efforts to something that actually makes a difference in someone’s life, or enriches a community… I dunno, it sounds good.   Of course, all of these thoughts are just my Panic Response to having to find a job in the real world.   JJJ and I have been talking more frequently these days.  We are in a pretty good place… our conversations are getting more and more honest by the day, and we can still make each other laugh, every time.  I miss her, not gonna lie.  There are hesitations in getting too emotionally involved again, but truthfully, I never got emotionally un-involved… I’ve been hung up on her since I told her it was over, and I certainly don’t hate all the effort she’s been putting in, trying to get me back.  It counts for something, for sure.  We have ten days in Hawaii to see if we are interested in rekindling…although, if I had to guess, I’d bet I won’t say no when we’re in our private bungalow on the beach, with the private pool, hot tub, cabana and butler… she drives a hard bargain, for sure.  Winin’ and dinin’ off the continental US, with scuba trips and luaus and helicopter rides over volcanoes in store.  I mean, that sounds pretty Romantical to me.   But still I’m torn.  There are a handful of people that I’m interested in, all for different reasons, and I’m not sure I’m willing to cut off the possibility of those connections and situations, just yet.  Maybe once school is over, if JJJ and I are living in the same city, I could commit to Having Another Go.  Right now, I like talking to her, and daydreaming about Hawaii… and flirting with these other women while I bide my time.  There’s a problem there, though…  if I let the flirting turn into anything else, then I have to explain that I’m going on a Sexy Vacation with an ex, where I will, indeed, be having sex with Someone Else.   It’s not exactly the best case scenario for dating someone, in the mean time.  I won’t close myself off to the possibility of finding something interesting and good with someone else, but I feel like I’ve got a hook in my heart, and there’s no room for falling in love with anyone else right now.   Shit, what am I talking about?  There’s no room for falling in love with anyone else, anyway.  I’ve got eighty-hundred hours of school this term.   I am about to go paint Hansel and Gretel, an outside job the school has arranged…and of course, today is the day the Weather Channel is calling for snow.  I’m skeptical, but boy! do I want to go sledding!!  And then I need to go get supplies to build my first puppet for class—So Excited about this class!!!  I want to make puppets forever.   

11 of 12 January 10, 2008

Winter Term 2008 has officially commenced…and I already feel like I’ve been here every day for my whole life.  And after such a joyous and relaxing Christmas break, too.   I’m taking 18 hours this term, which makes me a little nauseous and woozy just to say out loud, but it’s a decent balance of things I’m really stoked about and things  I can recognize as essentials.  It doesn’t make 8 a.m.’s any easier.  It doesn’t make the fourteen hour school days go by any quicker.  I want to do cartwheels about this one particular class; myself and Anchors and L and K and D (all close friends) have created an independent study in puppet making and I can’t stop thinking about The Puppet I want to build.  It’s maybe the nerdiest thing I’ve gotten this excited about, but I dare someone to call Jim Henson and Tim Burton nerds (in any derogatory fashion)….puppet-making is cool.   I’m also in scene painting III, costume shop management, professional career development, art history, western thought, and theater history.  In addition to my production hours, which are apparently slated to include some paid work on the weekend for area theaters.  It’s a crazy schedule, but I’m not depressed about it right now.  Yet.   Anchors best friend (our friend…) Baldy was in town this past week….it was good times.  I laughed more and harder this week than I have in a while.  It was a nice way to ease back into school…by completely ignoring my work and having Social Fun Times instead.  Now I have to get serious.  Blaugh.   Off to crew.  I’m painting a four foot tall portrait to serve as the centerpiece for Act II of the winter opera, which will be touring, so I gotta get it right, get it right get it tight!!   

Dick Clark Is A Robot January 3, 2008

I’ve been thinking for years, ever since he had his stroke, that Dick Clark was actually made from cast resin, with strings attached to his hands, like a marionette.  It really depresses me to see him on TV, doing his Rockin’ New Years Eve thing…Madame Tussaud must be really proud of herself for this one.   If New Years Eve was any indicator of how 2008 is going to go, I’m in for a good year.  Myself, R and M hopped in the car on Sunday and headed to DC, to visit Ashantaleezay; of course, it hasn’t rained in for-fucking-ever, and then it torrentially pours the one day we have to drive.  The drive wasn’t awful, though…no nasty traffic, which is a first, where DC is concerned.  We spent Sunday evening in A’s apartment, catching up and having some laughs; A had to work early Monday morning.   On Monday, R and M and I went toodling around DC while A was at work having carpet installed (”Is that code for something?”—M).  We found a cute bagel place to eat a late breakfast and then continued down to the Mall to take in some culture.  The metro was quite impressive; not only was the architecture inside the station at Gallery Place quite pleasing, but there were cushions on the train!  And carpet!  We had intended to hit up the Nat’l Portrait Gallery as well as the Spy Museum, but after getting our fill of espionage, drinks were in order, so we proceeded to some brewery, where we watched an old crazy have the time of her life, talking to herself.  Her cardigan was on backwards, and she wore a double strand of pearls, maybe to accent her shiny-gray dreads she had stuffed into a beanie…Whatever the case, she was having more fun than anyone at the bar.  She just laughed and laughed at whatever her imaginary companion was saying.  I’m still curious about what their conversation was about.   Monday evening, after resting and getting ready and having a photo shoot, we all ventured into Adams Morgan to meet up with Party Monster and Co…lots of old friends from high school that I hadn’t spent a New Years Eve with in twelve years.  It was quite the event.  We rolled up in Party Monster’s older brother’s loft apartment, two blocks of 18th St, which was busting at the seams so many people were packed into the streets.  Cops had to shut the streets down to auto traffic; they were just too many people everywhere.  We had the luxury of enjoying a roof terrace…we watched some far-away fireworks, and the Homeland Security helicopters circling around Important Buildings over downtown.  We also got plenty of New Years whoopin’ and screamin’, shuckin’ and jivin’ done.  Apparently, a baby lives below PM’s brothers, so we were supposed to be quiet in the house…which was an impossibility, with the Forces of Evil reunited again.   After watching the ball drop (and seeing the Persian Princess’ national commercial debut at 11:46 during Rockin’ Eve celebration!) we all headed down to 18th St, into the throngs of drunk and hostile people.  New Years Eve can bring out the worst in people, I think.  We went to the Pharmacy Bar, which was playing some lousy metal when we arrived, but Party Monster straightened that out shortly, and got the DJ to play some good dance jamzzzz.  My ears are still ringing from dancing too close to the speakers when Boston came on.  It was an awesome time.  I Did Not make out with anyone at midnight, which was a bit of a disappointment, but I had a great time, regardless.  That’s saying a lot…no New Years kisses, and it was still the best New Years Eve, yet.   I got wasted off of half a shot of whiskey, over ice.  I will be a cheap date forever.   We finally got into bed at about 4, and I promptly had a giggling fit that lasted an hour.  We all woke up at about eleven, went and had lunch in Dupont Cirlce with A’s sister and her girlfriend, and then packed the car and headed home.  I slept most of the way back, and had the most fascinating and entertaining dreams about being friends with Cher.  She can be quite charming when she feels like it…  As we were pulling into R and M’s home-base city, we got to laughing so hard, I almost peed myself.  I couldn’t see or breathe, and we were shaking the car, the three of us were laughing so hard.  It was a good way to conclude an amazing, brief road trip.   I love my friends.  They are truly the best in the world.  My friends can beat your friends in a dance-off, any day!