Because the interwebs can't stop a determined writer. Or someone who has a little too much time on her hands.

Sunday, June 21, 2009

Bib by bit, beat by beat, part by part

boof...it's been a week. a good one, but full of work and other sundry distractions...

This time around, being a part of production for 'TheWho'sT' aka TWOT - I'm really getting to see how the other side works. How many decisions are made, some based on seemingly arbitrary yet instinctual reasoning. Like casting. And auditions in general. One of the things I've been getting used to is trying to make unbiased and objective decisions. It's not easy. And also, a completely idealized situation - in that it's FICTIONAL. An actor can always make the entire audition process easier on themselves by repeating over and over, "It's just the business...it's just the business." And, I'm learning as associate producer - how much of that is true and how much it isn't. New faces can have such a hard time breaking into the business based on the fact that producers often pick people they know and like over untested talent - it's the reason they started a theater company in the first place! So that their friends who weren't getting cast could finally get cast. Remember, Steppenwolf and Berkeley Rep and the Actors Gang were once fledgling companies full of new talent too; they made their mistakes, built reputations and evolved. It's completely unfair of course, but the best thing for actors to do is just get over it and move on. You will always have greater and better opportunities come along. Or it could be a wake up call to get your ass to class or to make that financial sacrifice for a greater artistic/career return later on.

On the production side, we have to get over the feeling that we're hurting people's feelings for the greater good of the show. There were definitely some decisions made in this process that I did not agree with; I'm only hoping that our director and musical director are making decisions that will make a better show. (We can often lose sight of the greater goal in light of keeping our current relationships intact.) I HATED having to tell my friend who was up for a lead that we were only giving her a smaller female soloist part, esp. since she rocked the audition. But in the grander scheme of things - you have to look at the big picture. She was able to get good feedback from me and the reassurance that it wasn't her talent at all, but her biological age, which is literally nothing she can do about.

It's also learning how to be a bottom liner and a hard ass. I get that people are upset when they don't get cast in the part that they want, but it doesn't mean that we're bad people. We're putting on a show with the cast that makes the best sense. Ian McKellen and Selena Gomez might be fine, fiscally sound decisions for each of their distinct genres - but does that mean we put them into a film together? Mymymy was complaining all through breakfast this morning about Josh Groban's wooden acting in 'Chess'. I'm waiting to see it for myself, but part of me poo-poos her opinion - when did SHE last take an acting class? And at the same time, it IS her opinion, as the unschooled and uneducated audience layperson as it were, that matters to the funders and producers of something as widely televised as a concert version of an Abba musical on PBS. Not every person who goes to see your show is going to be an aficionado. So general appeal is something you always have to be aware of as well as artistic/critical acclaim.

There's also things like chemistry between actors, addictions or diva attitudes any of them might have, other time commitments, commitment level in general, visual appeal or appropriateness, willingness to work/flexibility, blend-chorale voice vs. unusual, union status...all sorts of things go into a casting session.

It's just the business...

****************************
Hiked 6 miles of Muir Wood beauty with Bagel yesterday. Didn't leave the city til 1:30 and got caught up in touristy traffic; but still ended up with an amazing parking spot. We had driven all the way down the hill looking for parking, turned around and decided to head back to one of the larger lots, where we staked out an opening. Bagel started to get antsy, "We're never going to get a spot, there are five people ahead of us." Sometimes, the simple phrase, "Have faith," while said in a moment of jest, means more to one person than another. We got an awesome space when someone behind us left. high-five!

Ironically, he wore a Stanford t-shirt and I was wearing a Cal windbreaker - on purpose. I don't know if we did that to ourselves, but it's weird to have the same sort of brain as somebody else.

Dipsea Trail was a whole lot of up on the way, but offered an amazingly beautiful and often shaded trail. The redwood grove main trail while paved, looked swamped with people - while the one we were on was incredibly serene (probably helped that we were hiking around 3pm) and gave us time to catch up, hike at our own pace and relax. On the way back we ran into three women, foraging, who asked us, "Can we eat these berries?" Uhm...isn't one of the main rules of hiking is that you never eat anything you find on the trail? We were joking later, "Headlines; three women hospitalized after eating poisoned trail berries. Stanford and Cal student sought for questioning."

Tons of darkly moist glens, a good workout and an astounding view of the Bay up at the top while spending more time with a new friend is always a good way to spend your Saturday.

*******
later: Father's Day @ MBC and some more good acting news!

Thursday, June 18, 2009

vaginatron

"There is a special place in hell for women who don’t help other women."

-Madeline Albright

So I just commented on theCh!cktionary aka Lena's post for today, and I'm just frustrated. Frustrated that public sexual harassment still occurs and worse, that another person could validate this injustice with an assumption about Ch!ck's appearance. Frustrated that people do not see their position in this world is to elevate, help and respect others. Frustrated that women are forced to walk this forced line between sexual liberation, dignity and personal safety. And that men are allowed to be sexual and still completely respected and revered for it. (see: Pierce Brosnan, Colin Farrell, Tony Leung, Jimmy Smits, Taye Diggs) While women who are sexual yet smart are crucified for it. (See: Angelina Jolie, Halle Berry, Carla Bruni, Catherine deMedici) The eternal conflict between the virgin and the whore. What happened to the deeply sensual yet intensely intelligent and passionately ambitious woman? Why doesn't she exist?

Probably because at every turn she is demonized and trashed for her choices while the pious and meek are revered. Powerful women are often questioned at every turn; as if they lack the clout to uphold such responsibility. Yet, men sometimes act as given this authority, their god-given right. And I am doubly frustrated that often times, the first people to criticize and judge a sexually liberated woman, is often ANOTHER WOMAN.

Is wearing a skirt for comfort or ease of gait or, yes, because my legs look DAMN fine in one, such a horrible thing?

I ask you, who are you to judge and who are you to lay claim to that right? Because you also have a vagina? Would you want someone to judge you in that manner? I thought not.

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

You should try the pommes frites.

Is it slightly petty that I am glad that the family that supported Prop 8 (as in they had a sign on their front lawn and a PARTY) is moving out?

Must be all the $$ they spent on promoting.

************************
Overheard at work:

Pen: Where'd you guys go for lunch?
Art: mumble{chezmaman}mumble
Pen: WHERE?
Art: Chez Maman.
Pen: Oh.
Art: Why, what did you think I said?
Pen: Hootchie Mama.

Thursday, June 11, 2009

More fruit.

From Dave Navarro's Post on Ego and Productivity:

You know, having certain people view you as a failure isn’t so bad. After all, if someone is going to be so shallow as to shun you because you aren’t willing to settle for burning your soul out prematurely, then that’s a really cool situation - you can weed out the posers and false friends from your life.

Who knows, you might actually end up left all alone … except for the handful of real people who accept you for who you are and are also willing to be transparent and honest about their own limits.

The horror.

via Gala Darling

What the mother-flippin' hell? Why YES, that is a $345.00 Hermes APPLE CARRIER. It also includes a knife to cut the apple. For $345.00 I say it should include a frickin' worldwide concierge service that you can call to cut and peel the apple FOR your exhorbitent overspending ass. And excuuuse me, but are you wearing this carrier around your neck? Oh that's just fabulous, fresh fruit as an accessory. Because people don't have enough useless crap. (via MaybeYouShouldn'tBuyThat)

This is a tiny bit reminiscent of our boss Greenster who just got suckered (or in a fit of sunshine blindess - according to him) into buying an organic fruit delivery "basket" for the office. We just it yesterday. It included: a flat of apples, a flat of peaches and an entire box of Ranier cherries, black cherries, strawberries and blackberries. It's not so much of a fruit "basket" as it was a fruit "wheelbarrow". They were all delicious though. I aint complainin' - cause all that fruit means MORE COBBLER! Whee!!!



In other what the mother-flippin' hey news...

Tuesday, June 9, 2009

Peaches and Beaches

There is no sure cure for heartache they say. Other than time. Maybe it seems to the few of you that read my little corner of the world - I fall in and out of infatuation quicker than a bunny rabbit. What's so interesting about spending three years learning about yourself, is what you need and what you deserve. How loneliness is not a prison sentence and that embracing good people can come at inopportune times or quicker than lighting. And that there is no sure cure for heartache.

But there is travel to faraway exotic places.
While Bagel is in Africa...I'll be in Santorini.
Trying to not remember that the other exists.
Til all we are is a kind memory
Sweet and faint
Sandollar with broken edges
Beaches on opposite shores.

RECIPE FOR DELICIOUSNESS
-Slice overripe peaches
-Add brown sugar, white sugar, orange juice, orange zest, vanilla, brandy, cinnamon, nutmeg
-Cook peaches down in syrup (15-20 minutes)
-Combine 1 c. flour, 1/2 stick cold butter (cut into pats), 2 tsp. baking powder, 1/2 tsp baking soda, 2 tbsp. white sugar, 1/3 c. buttermilk
-heat oven to 400 degrees
-Put cooked peaches into casserole dish
-Make dough into a flattened patty on top of peaches
-Brush with eggwash
-Bake for 20 min. (or til golden brown)

It will make you cry with how good it is...seriously. I just made it and it's smelling up my kitchen wonderfully.

Sunday, June 7, 2009

things I enjoy

Things I would enjoy having when I move out:

a French Press
Pots of herbs: mint, rosemary, tarragon, thyme, parsley
a cat
a fireplace that I never use, but that looks charming below a mantle
a funky shower curtain
a wall painted robin's egg blue
hooks on the walls for my coat and purse
a cookbook stand
a red Kitchen Aid mixer
a little deck where I can drink my morning french press
wooden spoons
books
and I'm stealing the Bissel

***********
option b.

Tell me, is it enough?
Enough that I can rest my head on his shoulder
Listen to him gently croon
He's distracted by screens while
I watch his ribs rise and fall
Til 1am.
This man, singing.
Pitch perfect, all along.
We don't kiss
We don't hold hands
We barely touch
A solitary forehead we'll concede
That's our agreement
Option B...somewhere between alone and couple
Friends. Firm arm link friends.
Even though I want to
Brush my lips to the cleft of his chin
But he never told me he could sing.
Now I'm a goner.
Kiss me goodbye, I'm done.

Fatal flaw of (new) bloggers is inconsistency/lack of posting.

I say to you the same thing that I said to the irate coffeehouse patron who cut me and Bagel off in the long ass line at RedRock in Menlo Park last night, claiming that he, in all his agitated glory, had been standing in a line of his own creation next to the pastry case instead of along the bar with the donuts du jour and not for individual re-sale instant oatmeal packs with the rest of the coffee bar patrons while his passive date waited for his uncaffeinated ass...

"Whatever, dude."


In happier news...TOTALLY obsessed. Completely, utterly, sublimely obsessed. This is why technology rules. Our washer pooped out on us last weekend, so in lieu of facing my wrath - Mr. Jones agreed that we would go and get a new washer today. (that and my angrily written check with a fair chunk of my change included after hand wringing out 1/2 a load of laundry) So we got a new Kenmore.

While we were paying for the washer, I admitted to Mymymy that I was thinking of going to Target to get the Little Green Machine. The commercials, you have to admit, are thoroughly convincing and the high traffic areas in our house are filthy and unfortunately done up in rose colored carpet. Since the washer purchase was nearly hassle free - Mr. Jones agreed to drive us to Target and we got the LGM...

O.M.G.

This might be the best $100 you will ever spend if you have really dirty high traffic areas. I had an apple juice stain on my rug that was roughly a year old and the turbo attachment just took care of that bad boy in about two minutes flat. There is a cool spray dingly doo with a rotating brush and suction...it's like the Jaguar or Aston Martin of steam cleaners. It's light, cool looking and amazingly efficient. I think the only thing it's probably NOT good for is for cleaning is an entire living room's worth of carpet. But I'm about to tackle the stairs.

You've been warned.

Moi aussi!

20 something. Singer/designer/blogger. My last blog is now permanently lost in the ether, but I've been writing online since 1995. And so it begins...

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