NATIONAL NEWS The Supreme Court Rules!... and they also made a ruling
The Supreme Court ruled today on the Ahmed Salim Hamden case. Hamden was the driver/bodyguard of Osama Bin Laden and was detained as an "enemy combatant" at Gitmo in Guantanama Bay (Prisoners Of War have to be part of an army and al Qaeda, while highly organized, is somehow not considered an army). And, because of the symantics--because of the language of who this person was to America--we thought we did not, as a government, have to afford him the same rights that a POW is afforded (thank you Geneva Convention). What today's Supreme Court ruling says--basically--is that the idea of an "enemy combatant" being different than a POW is wrong, and it's time to afford these people the same basic rights as POWs. A better way of putting this, and the way my dad said it in his email is: "the Bush administration did not have authority to set up the war crimes tribunals and found the military commissions illegal under both military justice law and the Geneva Convention."
This seems a large blow to Bush's "Let's get those freedom-haters" attitude and is something of a surprise to me. Bush personally appointed two of these Justices, his father appointed two others... I just assumed (like a moron) that he'd always have at least four votes in his pocket. This particular ruling was 5-3 (with Chief Justice Roberts obstaining from the vote), with the three descenting votes Thomas, Scalia, and Alito. Perhaps that should read Scalia then the other two... as they've both been acqused of blindly following Scalia in their Justice careers. Regardless, it's refreshing to see that no President, no matter how many Justices they appoint, is above the reach of the Court.
Now it's time to figure out what to do with all those people in Gitmo. Bush says he wants to just send them all home and I don't blame him. The only problem now (I'm going to sound so conservative) is that we've just held 400 people in pretty poor conditions and we're going to release them? How pissed would you be if that was you? And how badly do you think they would want to come back here and get some retribution? I think this situation is only going to get more complicated before it gets better. Keep your eyes peeled on this one!
Thursday, June 29, 2006
Wednesday, June 28, 2006
LOCAL NEWS I'm Thinking Pink
Whether you know it or not, over the weekend the CTA opened a brand new train line: the Pink line. The Pink line was named by a local middle school which is, as far as I can tell, an all girls school. There are some ads up on other trains (i.e. the Brown Line) that supposedly show why Pink was picked. The reasons include that Pink is happy; that Pink should be said more often; and that I am a middle-school aged girl and have no grasp of how hard it would be for a college-aged boy to get his drunk ass home from the Cubs game via the "Pink" line. Perhaps the worst thing about the Pink line is the fact that it runs along an already established line (the Blue 54/Cermak)... it's just going to be more frequent than the Blue line to those stops.
I suppose, as stupid as I think naming a train "Pink" is... I honestly can't come up with a better color. Keeping in mind that Yellow, Purple, Red, Blue, Green, Brown, and Orange are already taken, honestly what's left? I mean, also factoring in the Political Correctness inability to name a line White or Black... and the fact that you want the color to be a one- or two-syllable word which is easy to say and is a color distinct enough that when visitors from other countries visit Chicago they can easily distinguish between the lines... what's left? Chelsey came up with one: The Silver line. The trains are already Silver, she said... why not name the line Silver? I honestly don't know why not... Silver is better than any other color I can think of. Pink is actually a little to derivative (of the Red line) to be better than Silver. But if we are doing derivative colors, wouldn't one that's more like Blue be better for a line that's replacing Blue line service?
In addition to the Pink line service, the CTA also did some minor tweaking over the weekend. All of the system maps have been replaced (to include Pink line service), and the train voice-overs have been modified. Now the train polietly asks people to be courtious when talking on a cell phone or listening to music playing devices. Now the train warns that soliciting and GAMBLING are prohibitited on CTA trains. And, the worst change of all, what used to be my favorite stop "This is Chicago"... is now "This is Chicago and Franklin." Not as cool... and there goes my one idea for a movie!
Whether you know it or not, over the weekend the CTA opened a brand new train line: the Pink line. The Pink line was named by a local middle school which is, as far as I can tell, an all girls school. There are some ads up on other trains (i.e. the Brown Line) that supposedly show why Pink was picked. The reasons include that Pink is happy; that Pink should be said more often; and that I am a middle-school aged girl and have no grasp of how hard it would be for a college-aged boy to get his drunk ass home from the Cubs game via the "Pink" line. Perhaps the worst thing about the Pink line is the fact that it runs along an already established line (the Blue 54/Cermak)... it's just going to be more frequent than the Blue line to those stops.
I suppose, as stupid as I think naming a train "Pink" is... I honestly can't come up with a better color. Keeping in mind that Yellow, Purple, Red, Blue, Green, Brown, and Orange are already taken, honestly what's left? I mean, also factoring in the Political Correctness inability to name a line White or Black... and the fact that you want the color to be a one- or two-syllable word which is easy to say and is a color distinct enough that when visitors from other countries visit Chicago they can easily distinguish between the lines... what's left? Chelsey came up with one: The Silver line. The trains are already Silver, she said... why not name the line Silver? I honestly don't know why not... Silver is better than any other color I can think of. Pink is actually a little to derivative (of the Red line) to be better than Silver. But if we are doing derivative colors, wouldn't one that's more like Blue be better for a line that's replacing Blue line service?
In addition to the Pink line service, the CTA also did some minor tweaking over the weekend. All of the system maps have been replaced (to include Pink line service), and the train voice-overs have been modified. Now the train polietly asks people to be courtious when talking on a cell phone or listening to music playing devices. Now the train warns that soliciting and GAMBLING are prohibitited on CTA trains. And, the worst change of all, what used to be my favorite stop "This is Chicago"... is now "This is Chicago and Franklin." Not as cool... and there goes my one idea for a movie!
Wednesday, June 21, 2006
PERSONAL Goin’ to California
As you can see, I’m back from my first visit to Los Angeles. Friday was a very long day. We finished our Skybox show Thursday night at around midnight, and then I headed back to the apartment and packed (who does things last minute? This guy). It was probably around 1:30 by the time I was done packing and ready for bed. That’s normally not so terribly late for me, except that I had to be awake at 4 for my 6:30 flight. I probably got less sleep than it seems, as I’m always anxious the night before a big trip. So I was going on very little sleep… and I think everyone else in the cast was on the same boat. When I got to Midway in the morning, my director—Angie—was pretty much asleep, and her husband was bleary-eyed and keeping track of their luggage.
I should take the time to note something special about this trip here. I have flown a few times, but I’ve never NOT checked baggage on a flight. This flight was short enough that I took a couple carry-ons with me and that was all I needed. That was awesome! Combined with the fact that I could print my boarding pass up to 24 hours before the flight, I was able to go from entrance to gate in about half-an-hour on the flight to LA (and, seriously, about five minutes on the trip to Chicago. LAX is so big, and Monday night such a non-busy time, that I made it through the security check-points without waiting in line). If I can swing it, I’ll never check another bag again.
The flight there actually seemed short because I was able to sleep on the plane. That’s amazing for me, as I can’t sleep on planes, in cars, or in war-zones. I took about half-a-dozen short naps… in between pulling on the guy’s chair in front of me (I’m an asshole) and accidentally kicking the guy behind me. That makes me awesome.
When we landed at LAX, we looked around to find other cast members. We were the first to land, so we had to kill some time (in the food court) and then try to convene with the other cast. The other cast members landed in a different terminal (a foreign concept to me… terminals?! Why doesn’t everyone land in the same building?). When Gillian called me to tell me where they were, she said that they were in the Tom Brady building. This made me confused and angry. “Tom Brady? Why would Tom Brady get a building?” Now Jim will tell you that it’s because he’s got fifteen-hundred Super Bowl rings. But even all those rings can’t justify your own building in an airport of a city in which you never played. So Angie, Tom, and I walked around asking where the Tom Brady building is located… and we had three people tell us before someone said “You mean the Tom Bradley building?” Ah yes… Tom Bradley!
After feeling like a moron for half-an-hour, we finally met up with everyone and rented a car. Gillian decided to spend the extra cash and get a convertible… so there we were, in Southern California, in a convertible. I don’t want to say that I felt like a choch… but I did.
We then headed to Jill’s parent’s house in Pasadena and I got a tour from Jill and her mom (including the big doughnut-shaped doughnut shop, the Staples Center, and the Rose Bowl). The afternoon was spent lying all around a room (on the floor, on a bed, on the ceiling) as a cast talking about life and love and everything in between. Jill had a vision of everyone turning into a big sorority at her house, and we kind of did. It was nice to talk to the cast as people, and get to know them a little.
After the unfunny comedy improv show, the cast and I went around to the front of IO West--the front is a bar which leads to their mainstage. That, my friends, is where I saw Weird Al. You know, the guy who sings the funny songs? Yeah, him. I would have gone up to him and talked to him, but he looked like he didn’t want to be there and I pussed out. If I play my cards right, this won’t be the only chance I get to meet him. If I don’t, it’s not going to be a big deal whether or not I said “Hey” to Weird Al Yankovic. But most of the night was uneventful… and we, as a tired, exhausted, redundant group, headed back to Jill’s to sleep.
Saturday morning, the cast and I went to a local golf course, you know, for breakfast at the clubhouse. Nothing says luxury like clubhouse breakfasts (even though this breakfast was fairly reasonably priced). Additionally, they put avocado in everything out in California. And I mean everything. Gross.
After breakfast, Susan and Adam picked me up. That’s when I met Cubby. Cubby is the adorably precious dog of Adam and Susan. He sniffed me and decided he should be doing something else. I’m not very interesting. Not even to cute dogs.
Adam drove me through LA from Pasadena… making sure to point out anything scenically interesting along the way. We got to their apartment just in time to get lunch at a little place I like to call “Yuca’s.” Now Yuca’s, for those of you who don’t know, is a burrito stand which is basically the size of my first apartment’s bathroom, and is located in a parking lot. I didn’t paint a favorable picture, but that’s to let you experience the pure shock and juxtaposition at the amazing flavor explosion that is Yuca’s. It was yum yum good. And it was the type of flavor (pun intended) that I wanted to experience in LA: get a real sense of what the city is like if broken into smaller neighborhoods.
Saturday evening I met Adam and Susan’s friends, and we met up with Dave… and old friend from Albion who has floated in and out of this hero’s life. We went to a nice outdoor restaurant—had our dinner—then rented some movies. I find it odd that we were six college graduates and we rented two cartoons. After watching cartoons and drinking mudslides (made with vanilla ice cream instead of ice… so good!), most of us were asleep. Those that were awake stayed awake until 3 AM watching the Jackass movie.
Sunday was fun, too. We went as a group to an LA street festival. That’s where I learned the importance of curb-seating. After the festival, we reconvened at the apartment to meet up with Miss Colleen. She had been in Chicago, and missed me terribly. Only half of that sentence is true. While Colleen and I caught up, Susan and Adam made a delicious home-cooked meal. We ate and then I forced everyone to sit through my Second City DVDs. They all seemed to like my Conservatory show the best.
Sunday night, Adam and I went out to the Viper Room to see a band of a friend of his. I was instantly brought back to my days of Outer Core. The room was small (although you wouldn’t know from the $10 drinks at the bar), and everyone was standing around listening to the music—kind of bobbing their heads. The band we went to see was actually pretty good. They sounded like a combination of Nirvana and someone else good… it sounded pretty. And we bonded over the loud, interesting, and over-air conditioned experience.
Monday was interesting, too. Adam and Susan both had to go to work early… and I was left to fend for myself and eventually walk the dog. I’ve never walked a dog by myself before, so I was really excited to be able to have that responsibility. Cubby and I successfully got to the corner, turned the corner, and then he pretty much stopped. There was a mini-Doberman that was with a group of men doing construction and Cubby wanted to smell it, or bite at it, or look at it, or whatever and he stopped walking. After about five minutes I picked him up and walked him away. When I put him back on the ground, he turned around and didn’t move. After a couple minutes of that, I picked him up and moved him further away; set him down; the same thing happened. So we walked back towards the other dog… and that was the walk. We then headed back to the apartment (for some reason he walked through the sprinklers instead of around them… Cubby hates being wet!), and we got back just in time to see Adam who had come home from work to drive me to the airport.
But I wouldn’t get that ride for free (Gross, come on!). We had to do a few things for his work, so I was off to the Beverly Hills City Hall/Police Department/Library building. Nothing says decadence quite like marble in the elevator (not on the floor, on the walls)… and that’s what this city building has. Adam and I waited in two different lines and finally got six “Valet/No Parking” signs. We then went around Beverly Hills (I’m not kidding you) and put these signs over parking meters in such glorious locations such as Rodeo Drive (again, not kidding). After doing a little work, we were off to In and Out Burger (“They have pretty good burgers,” “Shut the phuk up, Donny!”) and then LAX.
That was my weekend in LA. When people have asked me how it went, I really don’t know what to tell them. The weekend seemed to go so fast; and, even though I saw a lot of LA landmarks, I don’t think I got a full enough flavor of what the city is really like. I suppose I’ll have to go back.
As you can see, I’m back from my first visit to Los Angeles. Friday was a very long day. We finished our Skybox show Thursday night at around midnight, and then I headed back to the apartment and packed (who does things last minute? This guy). It was probably around 1:30 by the time I was done packing and ready for bed. That’s normally not so terribly late for me, except that I had to be awake at 4 for my 6:30 flight. I probably got less sleep than it seems, as I’m always anxious the night before a big trip. So I was going on very little sleep… and I think everyone else in the cast was on the same boat. When I got to Midway in the morning, my director—Angie—was pretty much asleep, and her husband was bleary-eyed and keeping track of their luggage.
I should take the time to note something special about this trip here. I have flown a few times, but I’ve never NOT checked baggage on a flight. This flight was short enough that I took a couple carry-ons with me and that was all I needed. That was awesome! Combined with the fact that I could print my boarding pass up to 24 hours before the flight, I was able to go from entrance to gate in about half-an-hour on the flight to LA (and, seriously, about five minutes on the trip to Chicago. LAX is so big, and Monday night such a non-busy time, that I made it through the security check-points without waiting in line). If I can swing it, I’ll never check another bag again.
The flight there actually seemed short because I was able to sleep on the plane. That’s amazing for me, as I can’t sleep on planes, in cars, or in war-zones. I took about half-a-dozen short naps… in between pulling on the guy’s chair in front of me (I’m an asshole) and accidentally kicking the guy behind me. That makes me awesome.
When we landed at LAX, we looked around to find other cast members. We were the first to land, so we had to kill some time (in the food court) and then try to convene with the other cast. The other cast members landed in a different terminal (a foreign concept to me… terminals?! Why doesn’t everyone land in the same building?). When Gillian called me to tell me where they were, she said that they were in the Tom Brady building. This made me confused and angry. “Tom Brady? Why would Tom Brady get a building?” Now Jim will tell you that it’s because he’s got fifteen-hundred Super Bowl rings. But even all those rings can’t justify your own building in an airport of a city in which you never played. So Angie, Tom, and I walked around asking where the Tom Brady building is located… and we had three people tell us before someone said “You mean the Tom Bradley building?” Ah yes… Tom Bradley!
After feeling like a moron for half-an-hour, we finally met up with everyone and rented a car. Gillian decided to spend the extra cash and get a convertible… so there we were, in Southern California, in a convertible. I don’t want to say that I felt like a choch… but I did.
We then headed to Jill’s parent’s house in Pasadena and I got a tour from Jill and her mom (including the big doughnut-shaped doughnut shop, the Staples Center, and the Rose Bowl). The afternoon was spent lying all around a room (on the floor, on a bed, on the ceiling) as a cast talking about life and love and everything in between. Jill had a vision of everyone turning into a big sorority at her house, and we kind of did. It was nice to talk to the cast as people, and get to know them a little.
The reason I was in LA... The LA Improv Comedy Festival
And before we knew it, it was time to head to Hollywood and do a show. Yeah, if you thought I sounded like a choch before; “I had to go to Hollywood to do a show.” Poor me, right? Right? Shut up!
Anyway, the review we had was of a show called “One Way Ticket to Hell” which is a theatre show based on a 50s marijuana propaganda film. Basically the premise seemed to be “If you smoke marijuana, your life will be ruined.” This is where our show started. Oh, did I mention it was a musical? Yeah… it’s a musical. And so was ours. Oh, did I mention I played the lead? Yeah… I was the lead. The cast decided to name me “John” just in case people forgot who the hell I was supposed to be.
So the show was a 50s propaganda musical whose premise was that smoking “reefer” leads to everything going wrong in one’s life. I think, perhaps, I took things a little too literally: My character smoked, drank, listened to jazz music, then stole from the church, and eventually lost his unborn child because his wife took in second-hand marijuana smoke.
Anyway, the review we had was of a show called “One Way Ticket to Hell” which is a theatre show based on a 50s marijuana propaganda film. Basically the premise seemed to be “If you smoke marijuana, your life will be ruined.” This is where our show started. Oh, did I mention it was a musical? Yeah… it’s a musical. And so was ours. Oh, did I mention I played the lead? Yeah… I was the lead. The cast decided to name me “John” just in case people forgot who the hell I was supposed to be.
So the show was a 50s propaganda musical whose premise was that smoking “reefer” leads to everything going wrong in one’s life. I think, perhaps, I took things a little too literally: My character smoked, drank, listened to jazz music, then stole from the church, and eventually lost his unborn child because his wife took in second-hand marijuana smoke.
If the point of the show was just to put on a really good improvised play, I think we kicked ass. Unfortunately, I think everyone had the expectation that we would be putting on a “funny” show… and I don’t think we accomplished that. Such is my problem; when I should be proud of myself for improvising a moving, interesting, musical… I’m upset with myself for it not being funny enough. *sigh*
After the unfunny comedy improv show, the cast and I went around to the front of IO West--the front is a bar which leads to their mainstage. That, my friends, is where I saw Weird Al. You know, the guy who sings the funny songs? Yeah, him. I would have gone up to him and talked to him, but he looked like he didn’t want to be there and I pussed out. If I play my cards right, this won’t be the only chance I get to meet him. If I don’t, it’s not going to be a big deal whether or not I said “Hey” to Weird Al Yankovic. But most of the night was uneventful… and we, as a tired, exhausted, redundant group, headed back to Jill’s to sleep.
Saturday morning, the cast and I went to a local golf course, you know, for breakfast at the clubhouse. Nothing says luxury like clubhouse breakfasts (even though this breakfast was fairly reasonably priced). Additionally, they put avocado in everything out in California. And I mean everything. Gross.
After breakfast, Susan and Adam picked me up. That’s when I met Cubby. Cubby is the adorably precious dog of Adam and Susan. He sniffed me and decided he should be doing something else. I’m not very interesting. Not even to cute dogs.
Here Cubby moonlights as a super-hero. His super power? Being precious.
Adam drove me through LA from Pasadena… making sure to point out anything scenically interesting along the way. We got to their apartment just in time to get lunch at a little place I like to call “Yuca’s.” Now Yuca’s, for those of you who don’t know, is a burrito stand which is basically the size of my first apartment’s bathroom, and is located in a parking lot. I didn’t paint a favorable picture, but that’s to let you experience the pure shock and juxtaposition at the amazing flavor explosion that is Yuca’s. It was yum yum good. And it was the type of flavor (pun intended) that I wanted to experience in LA: get a real sense of what the city is like if broken into smaller neighborhoods.
Saturday evening I met Adam and Susan’s friends, and we met up with Dave… and old friend from Albion who has floated in and out of this hero’s life. We went to a nice outdoor restaurant—had our dinner—then rented some movies. I find it odd that we were six college graduates and we rented two cartoons. After watching cartoons and drinking mudslides (made with vanilla ice cream instead of ice… so good!), most of us were asleep. Those that were awake stayed awake until 3 AM watching the Jackass movie.
Sunday was fun, too. We went as a group to an LA street festival. That’s where I learned the importance of curb-seating. After the festival, we reconvened at the apartment to meet up with Miss Colleen. She had been in Chicago, and missed me terribly. Only half of that sentence is true. While Colleen and I caught up, Susan and Adam made a delicious home-cooked meal. We ate and then I forced everyone to sit through my Second City DVDs. They all seemed to like my Conservatory show the best.
Sunday night, Adam and I went out to the Viper Room to see a band of a friend of his. I was instantly brought back to my days of Outer Core. The room was small (although you wouldn’t know from the $10 drinks at the bar), and everyone was standing around listening to the music—kind of bobbing their heads. The band we went to see was actually pretty good. They sounded like a combination of Nirvana and someone else good… it sounded pretty. And we bonded over the loud, interesting, and over-air conditioned experience.
Monday was interesting, too. Adam and Susan both had to go to work early… and I was left to fend for myself and eventually walk the dog. I’ve never walked a dog by myself before, so I was really excited to be able to have that responsibility. Cubby and I successfully got to the corner, turned the corner, and then he pretty much stopped. There was a mini-Doberman that was with a group of men doing construction and Cubby wanted to smell it, or bite at it, or look at it, or whatever and he stopped walking. After about five minutes I picked him up and walked him away. When I put him back on the ground, he turned around and didn’t move. After a couple minutes of that, I picked him up and moved him further away; set him down; the same thing happened. So we walked back towards the other dog… and that was the walk. We then headed back to the apartment (for some reason he walked through the sprinklers instead of around them… Cubby hates being wet!), and we got back just in time to see Adam who had come home from work to drive me to the airport.
But I wouldn’t get that ride for free (Gross, come on!). We had to do a few things for his work, so I was off to the Beverly Hills City Hall/Police Department/Library building. Nothing says decadence quite like marble in the elevator (not on the floor, on the walls)… and that’s what this city building has. Adam and I waited in two different lines and finally got six “Valet/No Parking” signs. We then went around Beverly Hills (I’m not kidding you) and put these signs over parking meters in such glorious locations such as Rodeo Drive (again, not kidding). After doing a little work, we were off to In and Out Burger (“They have pretty good burgers,” “Shut the phuk up, Donny!”) and then LAX.
This is as close as I got to the Chinese Theatre. This picture was taken from a speeding car and in between two trucks parked in front of the theatre. Not bad... considering.
That was my weekend in LA. When people have asked me how it went, I really don’t know what to tell them. The weekend seemed to go so fast; and, even though I saw a lot of LA landmarks, I don’t think I got a full enough flavor of what the city is really like. I suppose I’ll have to go back.
Friday, June 16, 2006
PERSONAL 24 Little Hours
What a difference a day makes. Wednesday was such a hard day for me: a day where nothing seemed to be going right. Then Thursday came. And Thursday was a nice change in perspective: I was able to finish a fifteen minute workout in the morning; I ate good, healthy meals all day; and, most importantly, I have a lead on a job. I would be working from home (bonus!) and I would basically be categorizing mathematics problems into what the problem actually tests the students--for middle school-aged students. I would be using about a hundred standards for learning mathematics and seeing which apply to the math problems I was given. Did I mention I could work from home? I just recently realized how huge that is for me. I would prefer not to have to work with other people because they drain my energy (and that's less energy I have for the actual work). My mom would say that it's a shame I don't work with people because I have a way with people. A certain charm, a certain charisma... that makes irresistible. But my mom's not here, is she?! Ahh ha ha haaaa!!!
I also had another BR show Thursday night. The review was about an absurdist dark comedy... and I think we played the genre fairly well, even though I'm not a fan of absurdist work. I am just learning that it's difficult to keep each scene consistently funny with our form. We're so busy pushing the plot that we sometimes forget to make people laugh. This is why I like playing the swing (or various) characters. If I'm playing various characters, my goal on stage is to further plot and to get the laughs. Sometimes the director calls this "bits"--if you're not furthering the plot and just trying to get laughs then you're doing "bits." She sees this as a bad thing... but I don't necessarily agree. If you don't have any "bits"... if the show becomes plot, plot, and more plot... then it's not as interesting to the audience as it could be (if you threw in a joke... say anything about blonde neuro-surgeons or the Miami Dolphins). As such, last night I was a swing (various) character and my goal on stage was to give the audience a laugh when the plot got a little heavy. "We're going to do this and this and this," someone would say; and I would respond with "Jokey joke joke." Maybe I exaggerated a little just there, that's not how it happened. That's not what they would say, they would say something that made sense in context... but that is actually a quote of what I said. At the very least, the show went better than the sock puppet Shakespeare. And isn't that all for which we can ask (besides excellent grammar)?
What a difference a day makes. Wednesday was such a hard day for me: a day where nothing seemed to be going right. Then Thursday came. And Thursday was a nice change in perspective: I was able to finish a fifteen minute workout in the morning; I ate good, healthy meals all day; and, most importantly, I have a lead on a job. I would be working from home (bonus!) and I would basically be categorizing mathematics problems into what the problem actually tests the students--for middle school-aged students. I would be using about a hundred standards for learning mathematics and seeing which apply to the math problems I was given. Did I mention I could work from home? I just recently realized how huge that is for me. I would prefer not to have to work with other people because they drain my energy (and that's less energy I have for the actual work). My mom would say that it's a shame I don't work with people because I have a way with people. A certain charm, a certain charisma... that makes irresistible. But my mom's not here, is she?! Ahh ha ha haaaa!!!
I also had another BR show Thursday night. The review was about an absurdist dark comedy... and I think we played the genre fairly well, even though I'm not a fan of absurdist work. I am just learning that it's difficult to keep each scene consistently funny with our form. We're so busy pushing the plot that we sometimes forget to make people laugh. This is why I like playing the swing (or various) characters. If I'm playing various characters, my goal on stage is to further plot and to get the laughs. Sometimes the director calls this "bits"--if you're not furthering the plot and just trying to get laughs then you're doing "bits." She sees this as a bad thing... but I don't necessarily agree. If you don't have any "bits"... if the show becomes plot, plot, and more plot... then it's not as interesting to the audience as it could be (if you threw in a joke... say anything about blonde neuro-surgeons or the Miami Dolphins). As such, last night I was a swing (various) character and my goal on stage was to give the audience a laugh when the plot got a little heavy. "We're going to do this and this and this," someone would say; and I would respond with "Jokey joke joke." Maybe I exaggerated a little just there, that's not how it happened. That's not what they would say, they would say something that made sense in context... but that is actually a quote of what I said. At the very least, the show went better than the sock puppet Shakespeare. And isn't that all for which we can ask (besides excellent grammar)?
Wednesday, June 14, 2006
PERSONAL John and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day
Have you ever had one of those days where it seems like nothing is going right? Nothing is going your way at all and you just want to go to sleep and start over in the morning? Such was my day Wednesday. I started the day with a cardio workout (or, at least, most of one). My new cardio DVD has two settings: Ease me into it; and Challenge. I, being me, figured I could do the challenge without any prior workouts. I was, apparently, not up to the challenge... as I had to stop about 6 minutes into the 15 minute workout.
Then there was only breakfast cereal in my breakfast cereal box.
I tried to get my oil changed today, but the Midas was so busy that I was unable to even park in their lot to tell them I needed an oil change. And, since the nearest Midas is 400 miles of construction away, I was forced to sit in traffic on my way back to the apartment.
I tried to change my blog and only recently (about ten minutes ago) was I able to get the actual published page to look like the preview page. Frustration!
Today was also continuing my annual "melancholy" phase. I can't seem to motivate myself to do anything, as the weight of the world seems too great for me to even attempt to push against. You ever have those days? Where it's tough to motivate yourself against all you would have to do? And everything you could do is simply your attempt to move one step forward in your life? Such is my current state. I'm stuck in that place where, if only I could find a job I enjoyed, everything else would happily fall into place (hopefully). But it's not happening... and I'm hurting myself from all the butt kicking I'm doing to try to motivate myself. I'm just not motivated. And I don't know why. But I got back into writing. That's a start.
Have you ever had one of those days where it seems like nothing is going right? Nothing is going your way at all and you just want to go to sleep and start over in the morning? Such was my day Wednesday. I started the day with a cardio workout (or, at least, most of one). My new cardio DVD has two settings: Ease me into it; and Challenge. I, being me, figured I could do the challenge without any prior workouts. I was, apparently, not up to the challenge... as I had to stop about 6 minutes into the 15 minute workout.
Then there was only breakfast cereal in my breakfast cereal box.
I tried to get my oil changed today, but the Midas was so busy that I was unable to even park in their lot to tell them I needed an oil change. And, since the nearest Midas is 400 miles of construction away, I was forced to sit in traffic on my way back to the apartment.
I tried to change my blog and only recently (about ten minutes ago) was I able to get the actual published page to look like the preview page. Frustration!
Today was also continuing my annual "melancholy" phase. I can't seem to motivate myself to do anything, as the weight of the world seems too great for me to even attempt to push against. You ever have those days? Where it's tough to motivate yourself against all you would have to do? And everything you could do is simply your attempt to move one step forward in your life? Such is my current state. I'm stuck in that place where, if only I could find a job I enjoyed, everything else would happily fall into place (hopefully). But it's not happening... and I'm hurting myself from all the butt kicking I'm doing to try to motivate myself. I'm just not motivated. And I don't know why. But I got back into writing. That's a start.
PERSONAL I'm Back!
That's right kiddies, your ol' pal John is back and with a brand new look. I've been wanting to change the format of this blog for a while and just haven't spent much time on it lately. But here it is, in all it's shiny new glory. What do you think of the title? Pretty sweet, huh? The old title didn't seem to fit me anymore--I'm less crazy now and more of a depressed drunk (i.e. Irish). Let me know what you think of the changes in the new comments section (goodbye to the old comments and hello to the easier, Blogger sponsored comment section)! Also notice the new Google Ads section that will hopefully have something to do with the subjects about which I post. If they don't, click on them anyway to give me money. Actually, click on them, close that window, then come back to my page and click on them again... that should get me money.
I have things to update about my trip with Miss Chelsey to Las Vegas and my trip to Los Angeles to the LA Improv Festival... but first thing's first, here's my new page and new format. Enjoy!
That's right kiddies, your ol' pal John is back and with a brand new look. I've been wanting to change the format of this blog for a while and just haven't spent much time on it lately. But here it is, in all it's shiny new glory. What do you think of the title? Pretty sweet, huh? The old title didn't seem to fit me anymore--I'm less crazy now and more of a depressed drunk (i.e. Irish). Let me know what you think of the changes in the new comments section (goodbye to the old comments and hello to the easier, Blogger sponsored comment section)! Also notice the new Google Ads section that will hopefully have something to do with the subjects about which I post. If they don't, click on them anyway to give me money. Actually, click on them, close that window, then come back to my page and click on them again... that should get me money.
I have things to update about my trip with Miss Chelsey to Las Vegas and my trip to Los Angeles to the LA Improv Festival... but first thing's first, here's my new page and new format. Enjoy!
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