highrise living for a joke like me

I am currently playing simultaneous games of phone tag with two different people, which is always fun. I have also had a really, really long day.

Woke up at 4a, since I was opening at work. Proceeded to stare at the ceiling until 4:30, when I rolled out of bed, dressed, and did other things that would make me presentable to the general public. O picked me up at 10 of and drove us to work; he lives near me, and he's a gentleman when he's not being an ass, so he refused to let me take the bus once he realized we were opening together. (No joy on Thursday, the other day I open this week; L is also lacking in car.) Worked for just under six hours--there's funny stories there, but I'm too tired to relate them--though I spent most of that time using the register/side of the pastry case/wall/broom to keep me upright.

Mum picked me up just as I got out, and we went to Local HMO Offices to have needles poked in our arms (shot for me, blood work for her), and then she dropped me off at therapy. And then I got home, with the plan to write...and have been watching Brotherhood 2.0 since I got home at about 3.

*headdesk*

(This did, however, remind me of two projects--one SUPA SEKRIT and one not so much--I've been meaning to do, so maybe it'll help me get on them.)

Good news, though, is that I am now fully protected from two main strains of HPV, which cause cervical cancer. Maybe. There are like 14+ strains, though only four cause cancer, as I recall, something like that. Whatever. Is done, and my arm and shoulder and side-of-neck hurt. Note to y'all who haven't gotten it done yet: they're right, the third ones burns going in and hurts like a motherfucker afterwards.

Jesus Allah Buddha, it's a good thing I've got two days off now. My head's going to fall off and roll away.

In a new development, the To-Do List is subdivided now, because my brain is a sieve. (Yes, this is the way my brain actually works. I'm a freak, I know.)

( tl;dr )

I'm sure I'm forgetting things, too.

ETA: Wow, how many different ways did I blaspheme in this post? This has got to be a personal record.

• annotate Mother Theresa lines 7:30p
• finish and post stagesoflove Trouble In Paradise part 2 midnight
• finish and post wellymuck day 3 midnight
• Judas rehearsals 7:30p
• lj post 7:30p
• finish and post wellymuck Day 4

*cracks knuckles* Alright, kiddies, let's get some work done.

[Also, go do the LJDQ all. Is tons of fun.]

It doesn't help for you to flod my e-mail with messages saying how worried you are about me. Really. As if I weren't already worried enough? I'll talk to you all when I'm ready, just like I said.

daughter

In other news, it has again been proved that I am shite at accents. I'm going to be devoting a good three hours to writing in syllabic accents for Mother Theresa's lines. I'm going to sound like an idiot, but I really don't care.

In case that made no sense to you, let it be noted that I am appearing in a staged reading of the 2005 play The Last Days of Judas Iscariot by Stephen Adly Guirgis, staged by the University's Undergraduate Theatre Artists Society. It will be performed at CSPAC, Wednesday 5 April, 5-7p. Anyone who is around then really should come see it. It's blasphemously delicious!

Poor computer apparently doesn't like Sundays: last week it deleted my 'net bookmarks, and today it decided to either delete or corrupt one of my system files. Evan from downstairs, who is God, fixed it for me, but it was a scare I certainly didn't need. Not on, computer, not on.

And now, quizlings. The big honking meaningful post should land tomorrow.


What type of Fae are you?

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Ah, it's a delight to get on the set for the first time, bend down to help move the shiny! actual! prop furniture!, and find out you're allergic to the set. Not the floor they built for us or the walls, but the actual set furniture. From some strange reason, they decided to build it out of cedar rather than the usual pine (holds the texture better, perhaps?), and I'm rather allergic. Not OMG *ded* allergic, just runny nose, watery eyes, cough, and itch allergic. I can still carry the stuff around, though I have to wear gloves and it's better if I don't touch with bare skin, and if I'm out of range I'm pretty much ok. Best thing is, once the crews get here, I don't even have to carry the furniture around; my job is costumes and actor-wrangling. Herding cats, that, I swear.

Got to spend most of the rehearsal either chasing them or sitting in the lowest stage right box, so I could see both the actors to take notes and the SM so I could be her gopher. Once we get ClearComs (headsets) at tech, I won't have to be able to see her, but the stage configuration is such that I can't see what's going on onstage when I'm backstage right, my base of operations. There's vid feed in the stagemanager's cabinet, but it's not clear enough to use for costume tracking. Will be setting up a table in the box, I'm not kidding.

That was most of my day. Next post will be my thoughts on Savage in Limbo from last night, so I have notes for when I have a better sense of the write-up we have to do for 115. Most of it won't make much sense if you haven't seen our production and/or don't know the show, but I can forsee the end getting philosophical; the more I think about the play, the more I feel like it describes me way too well. I think that's scary, but the jury's still out.

Now, to do laundry and type up line notes.

Ok, someone explain to my obviously deviant, perverted brain how the naked human body is "gross". Seriously, I really want to know. Does my roommate think that accidentally catching a 5 second view of me hopping from bed (alone, of course) to closet or chair to grab bathrobe will infect her with teh ghey? I don't get it.

Note the first to roommate: It's hard to hold the moral high ground when you wander around in practically nothing (tiny sport bras and shorts, the latter of which she all but falls out of) much of the time. You don't leave anything to the imagination, either, and you walk around like that in public.

Note the second to roommate: It's also hard to hold the moral high ground when you're horrendously hung over from the night before, and therefore bitchy about things. Babe, try asking nicely, would you? Would go a long way to happier relations in this 8x10 cinderblock cell, I promise.

The worst part, I think, is the fact that I tried not to be visibly nude when she was in the room, even before she brought it up, i.e. tossing on a bathrobe if I got up before she'd come back to the room, camping out under the covers until she's left if she beat me back here. But it seems that even my bare shoulders repulse her, because they imply that I'm nekkid under the sheet and thick comforter. Just can't win, can I?

If I were a passive-agressive shit, I would wander around naked more often than I already do, but I'm not that kind of passive agressive, her boyfriend is in here almost as often as she is, and I still have to live with her until May or early June. I have learned to pick my battles, I swear.

Any thoughts?

It must be noted that I now need an icon that says "The best things in life should be done naked" or something like that. (Also need on that says "Puritans ruined my sex life", but that's a long story.)

In other news (a segue from Puritans, so that should explain part of the story), Crucible rehearsals move to the stage starting Sunday. This means that the set, props, and lighting crews are working overtime today to get the thing finished, and that the other SMs and I were at the school until midnight after Friday's rehearsal hauling set pieces, props, and costumes down two floors (thank God for elevators) to the Kay. The set itself, even half-costructed, is awesome: raked, "unfinished" wood floor, enormous plank walls, and live trees hanging upside down from the ceiling (the stage managers still don't under that one). I, as costume manager, am responsible for stage right, so that means actor wrangling and taking all the line notes, though Amy and I are figuring out a system to get them all typed up. And we tech in a week.

Also, I made a mistake on the date of the Shakespeare Fest thing, so not only did I get up some four hours before I had to today, but I also may have wasted $5 because I'm not sure I'll be able to go to it next weekend, and even if I can, I'll probably have to skip out early. Not cool.

[We are not talking about Wednesday yet. Is too fresh in my mind to be able to deal with it. Sorry.]

Dear Certain Actors,

Overacting = bad.

If you're distracting me from line notes, you are overacting.

Overacting = bad.

kthnxbye,
Me

Dear Mental Health Services Receptionist,

I'm not an idiot, I'm just potentially insane. And I was on the phone with you for a good five minutes and didn't burst into tears. You "calm" voice was not appreciated.

No love,
Me

Dear Body,

So, when is Aunt Flo coming to visit? Make up your mind, please! The 3a cramps are not appreciated.

Seriously no love,
Me

Wow, I've been out of rehearsals for almost two hours, and I still have no idea what to do with myself. I'm not used to not having rehearsals or being at home in the evenings. So, there shall be consumption of Ramen, rp and writing, and typing up line notes. Yum.

In other news, it must be noted that Casey is my favorite person today. Not only is he poetry in motion, but he forgave me for fucking up his class last semester. It's awesome to be working with him; he's fight choreographer for Crucible (yay, domestic violence), but I'm still not used to seeing him without the Desdemona goatee. And I think he's teaching 112 in the fall again, so that means I'll really get a second chance. I hope so.

Also, something not only biologically necessary, but also fun, shouldn't hurt and shouldn't involve blood being outside the body. Must make appointment with a gynecologist next week; this is getting silly. Though, to be fair, Steve and I are over; what we were doing would never have worked out emotionally, even if we could get it to work physically. I am also boycotting writing sexfic for the next bit; I will not help perpetuate the "good sex" myth.

Meme (post your reply in the comments):
ANSWER
1. name:
2. birthday:
3. place of residence:
4. what makes you happy:
5. what are you listening to now/have listened to last:
6. do you read my lj:
7. if you do, what is particularly good/bad about it:
8. an interesting fact about you:
9. are you in love/have a crush at the moment:
10. favorite place to be:
11. favorite lyric:
12. best time of the year:

RECOMMEND
1. a film:
2. a book:
3. a band, a song and an album:

PLUS
1. one thing you like about me:
2. two things you like about yourself:
3. put this in your lj so i can tell you what i think of you.

This entry started out as typical bitching about school work, ranting and raving about rehearsals, and catty comments about my snoring roommate, but I made the mistake of picking up the article about the lesbian Yalies that Steven sent to me a few days ago, so now I'm all introspective about sexuality and being 'out'.

I think the 'Homosexual Agenda' Poster on the door (spend time with family, get equal rights, and buy milk, respectively) is the only thing convincing the floor that I'm not just another straight chick. Spending time with Steve behind closed doors doesn't help, but the whole situation makes my skin itch on the inside. It's incredibly difficult to get involved with anyone when ass-deep in rehearsals, since there's no free time, and it's even harder when you don't know whether the person you're flirting with is even attracted to your sex, much less you personally. I don't get to go to either Woman 2 Woman or BAM anymore, since they're smack-dab in the middle of rehearsals, so I don't have a place where I know the women aren't straight anymore. And I'm new enough at this that I don't feel comfortable stepping out on a limb and flirting.

I hang out with three people these days: sommayyouall, Steve, and Evan. I'm not meeting anyone new, really, and the few people I meet through classes I generally don't want to hang out with outside of class. I spend most of my time talking to IBers online, especially kashmir_ki_kali, rather than real people. I don't have a group of people like the Lunch Group, and I certainly don't have any non-straight friends around here. One might point out that it's only the beginning of my second collegiate semester, but during the equivalent period in high school, kashmir_ki_kali and I were already inseparable, and I'd already started eating with the four or five people who became the foundation of the Lunch Group. I'm very much alone here, adrift in a sea of something that I'm too tired to accurately explain.

I think the worst part of all of this is that even when I do have free time, I have nothing to do. I have no interest in touring frat row with the...ladies...on my floor, even if they hadn't given up on inviting me along. In a perfect world, I'd go clubbing Saturday nights, but I have no one to go with, and even if I went to Ladies' Night at Apex, there's no way in hell I'd go alone. So, I spend Saturday and Sunday nights in front of the monitor, playing sheshbesh against someone in Finland and feeling sorry for myself. In a big way, that's why I'm even considering that MTV thing; if I had a camera crew following me around, I could go clubbing. Pathetic, non? Oui, je sais.

Wow, this wasn't supposed to be quite this emo a post, but that's certainly how it came out. I'm going to get back to analysing Oedipus Rex now.

Comments will be turned off for this, because I don't want any more of a pity party than I've already created for myself, but you can IM me if you have something constructive to say.

But now, for something completely different, the Crucible Rehearsal Blog, kept by our fantastic director, Jerry Whiddon. A scary concept, I must tell you, but it should be amusing.

It's too damn early to be awake.

Thank God for hydrogen peroxide, and it's ability to take blood out of fabric. I know it wasn't a lot of blood, but it was almost a week later (not proud of that).

I need tea.

That is all.

Have decided I definitely need to tell Brad to shove it up his ass, but politely.

Dunno which is worse: him misquoting a song from a musical at me that has a name in it that sounds similar to mine, or getting all "I was at the fitting so your renderings are wrong" at me about his costume, even though he's the fecking actor and I'm the one in charge of costumes, so he needs to stfu and do what I say. So I told him to suck it up and wear the damn costume in the most polite way possible, so he couldn't argue, but then he has the nerve to keep on hitting on me afterwards.

So, how do I politely but firmly tell him where to shove it? In theory, it would be best to pull him over and have a talk, but I really don't want to do it that way. I want to find a good way to shut him down that doesn't require corner-type convos. But, short of having Steve show up and kiss me senseless at the end of a rehearsal (bad idea all around), I can't see how. I still have to work for him for a month and a half, so it has to be polite and non-confrontational. I will not create drama, I just won't.

I also don't want to introduce a fictional boyfriend. I've been in that situation before, and I can never think of a way to mention it, off the top of my head. And more importantly, I don't really want to be unavailable in general, just not available to him. I haven't really thought about whether I'm actually interested in anyone else in the cast -- I try not to most of the time -- but they represent some of the heavies in the theatre department, and there's gossip and all that. And conveniently breaking up with fictional boyfriend in a month doesn't solve much, either.

I'll come up with something, I suppose, but help would be nice.

And rehearsals are going well, though I think I can quote along to most of II.iii. at this point. Oh, well.