Heaven, I'm in Heaven

And my heart beats so that I can hardly speak!
And I seem to find the happiness I seek.
When we're out together dancing, cheek to cheek.

Beginning with the quizzes:


You come from Heaven. You're the purest of pure, a
saint. You're probably an angel sent directly
from Heaven.


Where Did Your Soul Originate?
brought to you by Quizilla

(Ah, if only! Run the good race, eh?)


You represent... hope.
You're quite a daydreamer and can be a hopeless
romantic. You enjoy being creative and don't
mind being alone at times. You have goals, and
know what you want in life... even if they are
a little far fetched.


What feeling do you represent?
brought to you by Quizilla

Awwww - isn't that sweet! Kewl - I'll claim it! :D

Anywho, right, so saw Footloose tonight, which set me to thinking - I'm simply going to make a bid for HDW next year. Perhaps Carousal (sp?). You know, I laughed, I cried, it moved me, Bob. Actually, I was singing "When You Walk Through a Storm" to myself in church last week and getting all teary. I have some issues with the play, just a few, and easily worked around to deepen here, expand there, make sense of a few parts - and I suppose we'll just go with the asinine idea of Heaven they promulgate.

As for the show - I was tres tres proud of my Bearskinites. They had eye contact, focus, energy, character - and danced so very well! But the play itself - the script esp. - was simply weak. It lacked focus, plot, direction. The songs - with the exception of the three big ones (oh my goodness - throw me back to first grade will you? Weeeird flashbacks, there) - were mostly horrible. Poor rhyme schemes, no point to why they're singing - and no attempt to give the song a reason. So many of them were simply "let's sing a song - after all it's a musical!" A few exceptions: the Eyes are Watching one was haunting, although could have been choreographed better - you know, more circles, more leaning over Ren, more creepy blocking, more use of chorus in general - and the Mama Told Me So, which was probably the highlight of the whole play. Basically, as Julie pointed out, for a play that's supposed to be all about dance...there wasn't a whole heck of a lot of it. Let's put it this way, in the Country Bar scene, I was watching the chorus. But even so - a lot of it I chalk up to a basically bad script. Sorry all my 80's fans - but the 80's didn't produce much artistically, as far as I can see. Goonies, maybe - the Lucas/Spielberg stuff is good - but elsewise? Ah ca!

Oh, give me Kenneth Branaugh's Love's Labour's Lost! Even though that, too, had issues with - not the dancing, but the filming of the dancing - it had energy, spark, fun.... And of course, one of the BEST parts >drumroll please<

DANCE WITH ME!
I want to feel my ARMS around you!
The charms around you
Will carry me through to -

Heaven! I'm in Heaven! &c.

*sigh*

So, tomorrow, I'm waking up early, scanning photos, and then going to the wedding rehearsal for Sh. God bless her! And may this rehearsal go well. A tad nervous - I know no one but the bride and groom and they've troubles enough of their own without worrying whether I can hold a polite conversation. So polite conversation I will hold, and wear my dress new starched and cross my ankles and all that Grammy taught me *nnngh*. No, I really don't mind it - I just get nervous and awkward in new situations. Stupid, really. But there it is. TTFN - scanning calls!

Mood: Still the prettiest
Music: And the cares that hang around me through the week/Seem to vanish like a gambler's lucky streak/When we're out together dancing, cheek to cheek
What made my day: Still being the prettiest
What ruined my day: Having to wait an hour and a half before discovering I was still the prettiest
What I deserved to be hit over the head for: Being the...urp...savvy?

Squee!

Yaaay! Hip hip hoorah! Huzzah! Da na nana NA nana NAAAA, for a duck might be somebody's moooo-ther! >insert virtual parade replete with confetti and elephants here<

I has written - I has written Anglich real gud. (Tra LA, I lo-ove the Spring!) Yes, mesdames et monsieurs, by putting on my "fanfiction" hat, I have managed to slither by my internal editor and worried new author, and WRITE! (When I go out to dance my Johann meeeeeets me! Frolic through the Alps! Wo bist mein Sven? Zwolf!) The scene - first romantic one - between Elowen and Pwll. (High on the hill, lived a lonely goatherd!)

Now, granted, it's not one of the novels that needs to be worked on, but it is in the same vein, and gets the percolator percolating. Beyond which - and in some ways more satisfactory - one of the reason why I write is because I want to read such and so story and no one else is telling it! (Bad bad naughty Zoots!) And, frankly, I like Elowen and Pwll together - they're both so utterly serious and STUPID and putting them in a room is like watching Jane Austen in the WWF as played by paranoid schitzophrenic cats that ran off Tenessee William's hot tin roof. And if THAT isn't a bad analogy I don't know what is!

But I'm out of good analogies - I've used them up in this writing bit. I am allowed utterly absurd ones. In fact, one of the things I like about E&P is their absurdity (to the reader anyway) - I mean, face it, to the observer, anyone else's life is absurd. To those reading my sobbing below, it's amazingly ridiculous. Life is comedy. Not to denigrate tragedy - no, the two are needed to get the full flavour of life - but there's something wonderfully Heavenly about laughter. I am sure if we were to hear God's laughter, that should floor us more than the parting of the Red Sea or any pillar of fire. As Chesterton pointed out, there was one thing that God kept hidden from us, and which he (Ch.) is sure Christ went on the mountaintops to share with God, with His Father, Himself - and that is His mirth.

What a marvellous word! What beautiful vocabulary! And once again I could go off in raptures (no pun) about the Word. (Love John, love John! Sing, my Evangelist of Music!) *sigh* *snerk* *...squeeeeeeeee...*

In other news, last night Jules came home so I was showing her my attempts at a video (really a slideshow) resume, which at this point includes pics for Salome, Wizard of Oz and Bearskin. I put music over the slideshow, and it's amazing how much the combination of sound and sight - the RIGHT sound with the RIGHT sight - can utterly move one. I don't like Wizard of Oz - and am *sick* of Judy Garland's "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" - but put to the slideshow...? Oh, my goodness! It was so *sweet*! I wanted to rush out with Dorothy and Toto and.... You get the...um...picture. (Oh, I'm just a barrel of laughs today! ;) I'm using Aranjuez for Bearskin - works really well, and Gladiator for Salome.

Anyway, so after watching that and getting all squishy, I decided to have some fun and put different music to the slideshows. I put "Heather on the Hill" to Salome, which had some really funny parts, esp. when it looked like John the Baptist was singing to Fiona's part! Oy! :D Tried "It's the End of the World as We Know It" for Wizard of Oz - eh, OK. But the most frightening one of all...

...I put the "Elephant Love Medly" from Moulin Rouge to Bearskin.... All I can say is (with a shudder)...

I am Baz Luhrman.

Pity me, mortal man! OK, get this straight - I enjoy Baz's stuff. I really do. I really do. But part of my enjoyment - esp. for his R&J, MR & LaB - is that he *almost* gets it right, and then either goes insane in the editing or simply insane, and almost always manages to mess up the ending. I love him, but he's one of my fav. "problem directors." So to watch this piece of music, expecting a good laugh...and to see that every part fits. >shudder< Wuh.

However, that's not to say that Jules and I weren't laughing ourselves sick whilst watching this. Nor to say that it prob. won't go on the DVD (extra if need be), presuming I can figure out HOW to do so. Makes me laugh anyway!

Right, so off to really (really really!) mail off my laptop (really!), and then to the Abbey with a copy of Niamh for their bookstore, and then to buy roses for the Footloose folk, and then to Footloose proper, most likely with notebook in hand should inspiration or criticisms strike. Wheeeeee!

Mood: Voila! Je suis tres giddy! (Where's an orange M&M...?)
Music: Faire Celts, I told you so! Oh, and Secret Garden from upstairs (the new age group, not the musical)
Quote du jour: Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow

Weeell, so tomorrow is the day: I send my laptop off into the void of the postal system. *sniff* Which means that if I don't get to go see the dress rehearsal of Godspell tonight, I'll at least get to finish the Bearskin page and all will be at least *done* in that world. Then I will simply spend time lobbying for rights to the scanner to get in all the Brigadoon & Twelfth Night pictures that I can and build those pages.

Went to Sh.'s bridal party today. Very nice. Very Winchesterian. Classical music and formal tea. Some fun games that I must remember for whenever. I kept thinking back to all those 1950's plays like "Hay Fever" and "You Can't Take it With You" - nothing so raunchy, though. Rather, acronym stuff, literary games, etc. I think, if I've any say in the matter, I'd want a bit more activity at such a reception for myself - this is, of course, presuming that the occasion is ever warranted. Indeed, yesterday, when out with Mom seeing Seabiscuit (cute, a little sappy in places for me, but well done), and then dinner, I commented that if *ever* I get married, I'll need the six months engagement at least to plan around productions! Oy!

So, once again, I am contemplating the single life. Of course, all this contemplation, re: single or married, in a sense is altogether moot. In a sense: who cares? I have a vocation now in drama, teaching and writing - quite enough, thank you very much! - without adding in a husband or children to the mix. How - how - could I be a mother and still pursue my careers, which, knowing me, I simply will do. I don't want to be a negligent mother. And yet I fear that I won't give enough attention to my own children, should I ever have any.

Again, this is moot. Ridiculous. One is given grace to do what God intends to be done. Witness Bearskin and whatnots. Witness teaching! All in good time, my pretty.... Not quite the source one would want for such a quote, yet true nonetheless.

Of course, that's not really what's bothering me. The question of presentation is. Of what JPII is calling us to - and how to do so in a world so...at odds with itself! We are a world divided - meant for Heaven, fit for Hell. (That's a great phrase - ought to go in a sonnet somewhere - only it needs one more foot on each line....) Makes for *great* drama, though. Absolutely - great drama comes from the realization of what is meant to have been vs. what is. So comedy is when what is meant to be happens, and tragedy is when what is meant to be fails. Seems fairly pat to me! And yet if one believes that *nothing* is meant to be, what do you get? Bad plots, that's what you get. Of course, I'm not talking fate here - impassive, impersonal, irrational concept. Nor yet destiny, as the word is so often conceived. Yet rather what we are created for, and then through glorious, dramatic free will, what we ultimately achieve or lose. Curious to substitute Christ and the Church for the "Boy meets girl" analogy....

UGH! I want to write! Something amazing, something life-changing, something absolutely genius-like, something Jungian extroverted, something worthy of Aristotle, something to take its place on the shelf along the greats, something Dickens would have liked, something with Hugo's passion and Dostoyevsky's thought - and Austen's romance. I suppose that's Elspeth and Elspeth is so very, very far away.... (((echoechoecho))) The next two books will further that, certainly - hopefully without sacrificing fun - and, y'know what? If I'm going to write, I'm simply going to sit down and write - rather like I plunked my rear in this here chair and began typing James Joycian away without - or rather with too many! - a thought in the world. (Joyce had too many, too - and no editor, alas.)

Further note to self: must get to Ireland sometime. Simply must. "Oh Erin gra machrie (phonetic spelling!)/You're the only one for me...You're the bright star of the west/The land St. Patrick blest/You're the dear, little isle, so far away." One of Sh's aunts was telling me about Ireland and about the rocky sea-shore and looking over the cliffs and absolutely believing "here be dragons." Oh! Where, where is my ticket to Ireland! (Where, where is the money to make such a venture.) We will get there, we swears it, precious.

Right, toodles, off to gambol about in the mists of Liadan or the cobblestones of Lunadie, depending on who speaks first!

Mood: Resiliant
Music: Was Pirates of the Caribbean; Will be Faire Celts
Phonetic spelling of the day: E horo *nn-nn-nn-na-na*, la de da, di da da *aaah!* In you-u, in yo-o, *mumble-hmm-hmm* ooh aah, leshti, massi, gani-oh-ee! (Nevermind going to Ireland, my whining attempts at half-heard Gaelic would get me exported at the very docks!)

Common Sense

I knew there was a reason I loved Catholic Answers. It's great to read common sense.

Otherwise, things are coming together re: the reshoot pick-up scenes (woo hoo!), started on the ficlet and life is good with a project. The costume designer was enthusiastic about my ideas for Pirates (thank God!), and tomorrow I see Seabiscuit with Mom and do a bit of light shopping. Must figure out what to wear for Sh.'s wedding. V. cool, I get to do the second reading. Ephesians all the way! Yee-HAW!

And now, to sleep.

Mood: Je suis fatigue
Music: The light scramble of my fingernails over plastic
Prayer: Our God is an awesome God! Or in the words of St. Theresa of Avila:
Let nothing disturb thee,
Nothing frighten thee;
All things are passing;
God never changeth;
Patient endurance
Attains all things;
He who possesseth God
Wanteth for nothing;
Alone God sufficeth.

Webpages tame the savage beast

First, let me say: God bless Jill! :) Wonderful woman, thank you for calling and chatting! I am now all in a fanfic mood myself - I'll have to see if I can't whip up a little Pwll/Elowen scene as a present for you. Right, backtrack....

Skimming the Saga of Emily's Laptop (actually, didja know I named the laptop Elowen the Fair waaaay back in December 2001? I'd forgotten that until I was looking up the "backstage" stuff on it to see if I could free up memory), and then hitting the "oh look - aren't we cute and holding in our emotions and aren't mundanities silly?" post and can we say irony folks? That ought to go in a book or a play somewhere. Very Mrs. Bennet-y - rather as though Jane Austen had decided to write Jeckyll & Hyde! Oh, the wavering stupidities of me! Thank God, thank God for Mom, for letting me just weep and then getting me all set up to do the website (which will be uploaded this afternoon - what I have of it). But alas, poor thing!, now she's at a loss of what to do re: geneology? Oy!

Woke up to an anxiety dream this morning. *nnngh* Something about being back at FUS and being a teacher, but an asst. one so not have enough power, and having to teach my six seniors again but they were putting on this concert featuring JKR and I had somehow slept for several months and so a) forgotten my schedule and b) paid no nevermind to this concert I was supposedly producing, all the while I'm trapped in the dorm, squeezing my nightgowned way up and down this spiraling staircase that's choked by this humungous vine that doubles as a railing but makes ascent nearly impossible and....

Forget Freud. Dreams are just plain and simple weird. (Except for the significant ones, but we write those down and then forget about them until needed. Beyond which, I haven't had one for a *very* long time - and that's just fine! ;)

Right - so I think I'll make the bed look nice, turn over the laundry, plump the pillows on the bed, finish up some stuff on my laptop and then *sniffle* send it off via the box after putting in my contacts and spiffing up myself so that I don't shudder when I look in the mirror. Human again - I'll be human again! TTFN

Mood: The Calm within the Storm
Music: Something between "Human Again" from Beauty and the Beast, "What do the simple folk do?" from Camelot and "I have made you shoes for dancing" - currently the only song (partially) written for The Twelve Dancing Princesses (yes, another musical!)
What made my day: Jill calling!
What made last night: Making the icons for the webpage - the "headshots" one esp.

Moi, apres la deluge

I finally *did* break down and just sob - straws and camels backs and all. And so now I'm in that exhausted, dry, floating, bobby place - like the air after a really terrific storm. So, it's a no-go re: editing Bearskin right now. *sigh* I went out and bought a new cable and it works! (See below.) So I went out to buy a new firewire (not USB - my bad) but something *is* fried on my laptop and so it doesn't recognize new hardware. *poo* So, I'll have to pray that the box comes in tomorrow so I can send off my laptop and get it all squared away.

In GREAT news, however, I was able to download ALL my stuff onto CD (*angelic choirs insert HERE!*). So, if they need to ditch the old laptop and give me a new one it won't be that big a deal. (AAAAAAAAAAlleluia!) I'm going to bug Circuit City and see if they can't lend me a laptop in the meantime. (Please God?) Otherwise, in continuing good news the CD with the pictures from the photoshoot of Bearskin was left on my door today (love you Darlings!) and so I can at least build a webpage. (King of Kings! Alleluia! Alleluia!) And like I said, I cried my eyes out and so feel much tension relieved.

But what broke the camel's back or the director's for that matter? Turns out, somehow (most likely owing to the interference of an ill-natured Fairy, all the months shall be counted as 30...wait...) I managed to book a flight back from Michigan two days later than I intended. Augh! So I'm on the phone right now listening to annoying moooozak and waiting to shell out entirely too much money to at least up it by a day. Gah. (How in the world did that happen? I mean - obviously - I can guess at the mechanics of it, but I've never done this before! Oy! It's been a BIZARRE summer....)

So, please God - a little equilibrium? A little direction? A little peace re: Pirates of Penzance? A little direction re: all these other decisions? And a special intention - no snickering! - if You please? Danke. Ich leibe Dich, mein Gott!

Mood: Currently? Dealing.
Music: Mooozak a la Travelocity - but with the thought jukebox of Handel's Alleluia Chorus
Thought: It's not entirely pleasant to be caught in a spiritual cross-fire, but by gum, God I claim all this crazy set-backs for Your greater glory! Amen!

The Pixels Protest

Right. I am seriously going to *cry.* I called back the company and got a very nice Indian gentleman who - alas and alack - explained to me how, indeed, it most likely *is* the motherboard, which means there's a very good chance, since it's a laptop, that my harddrive is ALSO fried which means it'll need to be replaced. So - tearfully but (wo)manfully - I put on a stiff upper lip and reminded myself that, fortunately, most everything *necessary* is either already in print, printed out, or on the net. Still...!

Worse than that, though, is that I thought I'd be able to at least hook up the DVD RW to Dad's computer, download the editing software and pray to God that the hook up I have from the camera to my laptop would work for his desktop. No go. A) I can't *find* my USB hookup for the camera thanks to the move downstairs and B) even if I could, the DVD RW only is hooking up to this auxillary tower that I *think* is Dad's D drive but which the computer is NOT acknowledging as even being on, much less having new hardware (aka the DVD RW). So *that's* a no go.

And I know - I know - I don't have to edit now. But my goodness! do I want to! I'm spoiling for a project. I'm missing Bearskin immensely. I want to *do* rather than just sit around and clean - it's mostly clean as is down here, barring the sudden absence of hardware! (AUGH!). Good God! What is up with all this? Lord! Do something! (And no tricks, You know what I mean. *sigh*)

How sad am I.

Mood: Again, cf. above - but in one word: defeated
Music: Just finished Sound of Music
What I Intend to Do: Make another sweep of the room, make one last bid to see if a new power cord won't work, buy another USB if necessary, call Dad at Stargazing Camp and weep.
Sobering Thought: Hitler, apparently, was also a workaholic and would go on these huge tours and rouse everyone and get all frazzled and so would then retire to the country to take a break. On these so-called holidays, he got even more frazzled and stir-crazy and longed for nothing but the *active* sort of overwhelming. May I use my powers for good and not for evil!

Not Happy

So I'm on the phone with the guy from Circuit City (since that's apparently where I have the warranty for my (@&#% laptop) and first he's nearly *impossible!* to understand with this slurring Australian *drawl* and then he's patronizing and making me go through all this stuff I've already done with TWO other companies thus far...and THEN he tells me that it's a NINETY-NINE PERCENT CHANCE that I'll lose everything! on my computer!!!

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUGH!

But no, that's not all. See, the folks at Radio Shack said that *they* just plugged it in with a new power cord and it worked *fine.* But Mr. I'm From Down Under there is saying that it's the motherboard yadda yadda yadda.... GAH! These stupid stupid so-called TECH personnel! My left FOOT!

*huff huff*

We are not amused.

And today *had* been going so well, as well. I had gone to Fiddler on the Roof last night and met up with Ashley. It was a very good production. Nothing to complain about majorly - although the choreography could have been better. But overall it was very solid. And the directors use of Fyetka (sp?) was...FWAH. (That actor was FWAH!) So I come home and I'm all pumped, so I watch through bits and pieces of the other Bearskin tapes and am thrilled and pleased as punch to see that it's going to make for a good edit, and then I find out today that my laptop is IN at Radio Shack and when I went to go pick it up I stopped by Sears and so met up with DJ whom I haven't seen in forever and it was so pleasant to chat with him - oy! It's been so long! - and then....

Circuit City Happened.

*slump*

Right. I'll just march myself down to some store tomorrow, slap DOWN the money for a power cord and check it out myself. And perhaps get it working long enough to back it up. But HONESTLY! (Saucy Australians slurring words what are they doing on a tech line making no sense whatsoever and this is the daughter of the computer guy who can generally speak their lingo sounding like a total LOON because Mr. Mealy Mouth G'day Mate can't speak properly and what's this about NINETY-NINE PERCENT CHANCE - see, see how perturbed I am? I'm abusing puncutation and capitalization and font dohickies to no END! OY!)

*huff huff*

No, precious. We are not happy.

Mood: See above.
Music: The electric droning of the downstairs freezer
Desire: To edit Bearskin and have that DVD party! *wimper*
Going To: L'il Abner for the Hudson Arts Alliance - expect little, but should be good to pick apart. Oh, I'm not critical! >}

Epistlizing

I'm about to up-end the bed over the tarp and smoosh the bookcase against it to keep it from falling (all ye interior decorators, look the other way, please ;P), but thought I'd take a second to check up a few things on the web before hand. And as I did, and ran my eye over this journal (written, admittedly, with a view to being read. There is only so much one will allow out publically), I realized that this very exercise of "blogging" may actually end up being helpful for The Sable Valentine.

Curious, is it not, the importance to which we attach the mundanities of the day: that darn shower curtain dilemma, what to do with the laundry, etc. And yet, how very *real* are those mundanities - not to mention necessary. They pop up between sentences, filling time and space, acting like the Dutch boy's fingers in the polite and social dam that is the letter or the journal which we write. (Curious, too, then the thought that all our pretenses are as strong as paper - and yet paper from what unbending tree?)

Just as curiously, around and within those pleasant mundanities lie deeper thoughts, first principles, the questionings of the world and our mind.... Or at least, so I (sometimes) write. Others, I've seen, hold no paper before their face, but burst and swell with passion - usually poorly written. Still others barely communicate at ALL.

It's simply marvellous to reveal the soul - or to not reveal it, which is its own revelation - via the word. (Indeed, via The Word is the only Revelation! ;) Dramatic narrative at its finest.

I'm looking forward - and dreading - writing TSV. It looks to be a weighty novel, both in content and in word count. Oy! Approx. the size of half of Elspeth - the first half of Elspeth, not Elspeth/Poityr. (It makes sense to me - another interesting thing about journalling - the use of strange references, "home signs." Anywho....)

Which means that it'll simply take longer to write than Niamh did, or potentially Gavron (Book I) will. But that Gavron simply *won't* be written! It keeps stalling itself, tangled in the mess of chapter one, while the Prologue sits quite contentedly finished, buffing its nails and pulling faces at the chapters yet unwritten. Stupid, fat, tricksy novels! Stupid, fat, tricksy Aiden - running off to Liadan rather than staying home with his wife. It'll be an interesting relationship to write - deeper and more difficult than Gavron/Rhianna - but right now ALL parties are being stubborn! Gah! Stupid, fat, tricksy characters.

I shall remove me to the neverending conquest of my room. To mundanities that (hopefully) send me rushing to a notebook to write down new ideas or scenes. To space...the final frontier...naw. To a fourth viewing of Pirates of the Caribbean? (Tempting, but I think I've supported my local pirate movie sufficiently for this week's quota. %) Although it was so FUN to see it last night with Jules and Jill - hadn't known Jill hadn't seen it before. She certainly knew when to squee! Loads o' fun - drinks round for everybody! Darn - the rum's gone.) To duty then. Avast.

Mood: Cheerful
Music: Pirates of the Caribbean, Sinbad the Sailor, & Sarah Brightman's Harem on rotation
Quote du jour: And when the night descends in silence, will you see the edge of time?

What a day this has been...

What a rare mood I'm in,
Why it's -
Aaaaaalmost like beeeeeeeing in love!

Naw, I haven't been rewatching Brigadoon, actually. (Well, OK, we showed the houseguests various clips from recent shows and so Harry/Maggie & Funeral *were* among them, but....) For some reason, which I will not question too closely, today I've been feeling positively romantic. Not for anyone per se - nor yet with an ideal - nor yet with a character (the inimitable Jack Sparrow notwithstanding). But simply remembering what it is like to hug, to have one's hand held - engulfed - within a man's warm hand.

Good golly, I'm practically squishy! I'm certainly far past POMF and SNERK. And here type I, in a positively receptive "Willoughby!" mood - and no hero in a greatcoat in sight. No, not even one with a great many capes a la "da man" Henry Tilney. I am even benevolent towards the usually crimson-turning memories of Kurt. ("Ah! That's the one I forgot! God bless Kurt!") Indeed, *do* bless him, God. You are quite correct and those strange seven months were not without reason.

It's very pleasant to be in this mood, however. It's really very peaceful - rather like the comfort of just sitting before the tabernacle. Oy - I was *so* frustrated at God during Bearskin that He was physically present and yet wasn't - or at least in form that *I* could perceive. Anywho, as I said, I think I'll simply relish this unusual brush with rose-petal contentedness and let that carry me through...

...putting up the curtains in the doorway with my new (mine mine!) electric screwdriver! (Insert Tim the Toolman Taylor's happy grunting here.) And, as an added bonus, I purchased a shower curtain rod (still couldn't find the other - gave up) and so can happily attach the flowery shower curtain to said item. (Flowers and roses for everybody! Gah - what are you little birds twittering around my head for? Ah! Get out get OUT forest creatures! Y'know, sometimes it's simply NOT a good thing to be a dumpy looking Snow White.... And I'm not particularly sure that my *whistling* abilities - Quiddich theme anyone? - would do much to aid my work. Might scare the natives.)

Oh la! Lord Peter Wimsey's mother I am not! (Nor was meant to be? In the room the women come and go....) I shall flee before I indulge in more literature association games. Fa la! I love the Spring!

Mood: Tra la la la LA la LAAAAAAA!
Music: Whatever's currently on the radio
Quote: Willoughby! Willoughbyyyyyyyyyyyy! *thunk* *drip* *sniffle*

Crooks and Nannies of MA

Went to pick up my brother from VBS today and so toodled along a road in Hudson with which I was not familiar. LOVELY little backroad, so very placid and picturesque. One wanted to be in a chaise-and-four rather than a Toyota stationwagon. Greenery, leafery, the occasional gravel avenue, posts that declared "Four Bridges Road" and made one want to claim that as one's habitation. "Yes, I live on Four Bridges." Even better - "Yes, I live in Four Bridges." Very hobbity name that. Must put it in a book somewhere. Dvorne? Brauze? Another world entire? (Could it be snuck into Lunadie? It'd be lovely if Theophilus [soooo thrilled to be able to use that name! *snerk!*] could say that he originally hailed from "Four Bridges in Dvorne." Yes, I think he shall.)

Elsewise, the tendonitisted-heel is acting up yesterday and today. *nnnnngh!* Taking my pills, wearing my glow-in-the-dark heel supports (why glow-in-the-dark? If I have a heel problem I doubt I'll be doing midnight sprinting...), rolling the heel over a tennis ball...and yet! Ah well. Watched Jules & Johnny's Pirates of Penzance last night to garner ideas. Think I have a way to keep the emotional intensity and make plausible the rather silly ending. Only need to add in an instrumental reprise of "Away away!" and manage somehow to have Frederick swing down on a rope to save the Pirate King's rear (hence making the Pirates victorious).... Anywho, kept me up until 3 ay-emma, thinking about blocking and going over and OVER that silly ending. Also spent some precious time thinking about props/choreography for "Climbing Over Rocky Mountains" and attempting to figure out just WHAT the characters/motivations are for Kate and Edith - other than back up Supreme sisters to Mabel. (Oy!) Getting there...getting there.

And now, Peter is firmly ensconced in his own room...his bed is out of mine...I can clean up the OTHER bed and then put it up against the wall. Silly beds! (Kicks are for trids?) And whilst I do so, will find a blank tape and make either a) the encouragement tape for A. or b) a piratical drinking tape. Avast!

Mood: Curiously Cheerful
Music: Ye Jacobites by Name as sung by Clam Chowder
Who I'm On the Phone With: Radioshack folk re: my laptop - IT'S ALIVE!

Sometimes these things *do* cheer one up...(must go see this film again!)


Talk about inner conflict. Looks like you're
Elizabeth and Jack. A lot of times you don't
trust yourself to know what's right, and you
have a hard time loosening up, but you've got a
great sense of humor and you're damn clever.
Love doesn't loom large in your worldview, but
maybe it should.


What couple from Pirates of the Caribbean are you most like? (w/ PICS!)
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And One More (Gee - *how* did they know that scene was so faboo? [Yooou are soooo faboooooooooooo!])


You are "Welcome to the Caribbean, love."
You're more than a little world-weary, but also
intelligent and you keep your head when things
get dodgy. You're everybody's favorite
drinking buddy, but your stubbornness does get
in the way sometimes.


Which one of Captain Jack Sparrow's bizarre sayings from Pirates of the Caribbean are you?
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Schmoozing

I never thought that the things I didn't care for from my foray into Hollywood - that is all the schmoozing, all the "selling of oneself," all the pitching as they call it - would come in handy. In the theatre world. In MA. Curious. I've now done all three (backwards chronologically) to some success. I've pitched the opera/ballet to my lead and won him (thank God! :), I've acted like the world's most fascinating debutante at Readercon and seemed to have convinced a few people that I'm simply a faaaaaaascinating personality, and I've stopped being terrified of schmoozing (aka speaking to friendly acquaintances and chatting them up). Who'da thunk.

Of course, things do still tend to be a bit tense here. Squabbles, reams and reams of houseguests, conflicting schedules and EMPTY schedules which are somehow worse.... And folks who forget that people are living in the downstairs apt. and therefore just come down - which really can't be that begrudged but still...I'd forgotten what a frustration it is. Would like to say more, daren't. Perhaps I've learnt that from Hollywood as well. Need to leave.

Mood: More than usually perturbed
Music: Avril Lavigne - seems to fit
To Question: What constitutes intellectual property?

Sometimes you just need to remind yourself of something nice like this:


You are... 'Wait, this is supposed to be a
punishment?' Yeah, I'm a little confused, too.
Stuck on a beautiful deserted island with a
load of rum and Captain Jack Sparrow...
What's not to like?! If you want to leave this
place, you are CRAZY!


What random made up thought from Pirates of the Caribbean are you?
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Beware the Patisseries of France!

My friend, Nick, formulated this theory while we were toodling around Innsbruck back in '97 that the French were planning to overtake the world by Patisserie. The idea, he said, was that since they'd lost out on everything else - currency, linguistics, world domination - they had decided to subvert the world a la enticing obesity and, once the world was pleasantly flabby, would take over by sheer metabolism.

I have proof of that. Proof circumstantial.

So I'm going grocery shopping tonight - great break to get out of the house, away from the dungeon of semi-cleared apt. and undulating piles of laundry - and on the list are bread and crackers. No prob. Except that everyone in our household is on a rather serious diet. Still no prob. - the items prove no tempting difficulty. EXCEPT that...to reach the low-fat Snackwell crackers one must wade through an entire aisle of cookies, munchies, popcorn, chocolate, cheese, chips - oooooozing with delectability. No, it would be impossible to put the low-fat Snackwell crackers at the END of the aisle, where one could simply nip one on the fly. Nooooooooooooooo...we must put the crackers in the MIDDLE of a dieter's Elm Street. Ditto the low-fat whole-wheat bread. Right next to the ice cream. I won't even mention the cinnamon sticks beside the bananas.

*hrumph*

In other news, the Sable Valentine looks to be alive and well. Must finish outlining it. It wasn't completely ripped to shreds by the ActOne group out here. Indeed, some insightful comments and suggestions. But then they're always lovely. :) Sh. stopped by ergo - Lord love her! - and had a delightful walk and conversation. Quite jabbed her ear off about Liam O'Brien, however (must get laptop back...must work on screenplay!). Stayed up until one last night making the area nearest the door a bit more reasonable. And - ta DA - found my Richard II poster with Samuel West. All Hail His Golden Blond Gorgeousness! He of the Sensual Eyebrows! No longer need I content myself with a postcard from the RSC - I have found my poster. (I have also found my hairbrush. And there was MUCH rejoicing!)

Ta.

Mood: Ich bin murde aber frohlich
Maladies: Meine fuB ist kaPUT!
Mundanities: Off to battle the laundry, however....
Music: I have found my Camelot CD! :D

Don't mind me, I'm just a subplot.

Went to see Sinbad today. I wanted to like it - I really wanted to like it. And it wasn't *bad*, per se, it simply wasn't extraordinary. There didn't seem to be any exuberance from the involved about the project - the voices weren't amazingly cast, the facial animation was wooden, the score swelled a few too many times to make up for that.... However, the scene with the sirens was simply *neat.* Very well done, very unexpected, great music, great visuals, great everything.

But the biggest complaint I had with the entire film revolved around the Sinbad-moral-standpoint-character Proteus. This fellow, besides possessing a chin that could be used as a chopping block, was dull, stiff, poorly drawn, badly voiced, and obvious-clunk-you-over-the-head moral guy. He showed up occasionally brooding, ostensibly to remind everyone that while Sinbad is off galavanting to the world's edge, his best friend is waiting to be executed and aren't you tense yet boys and girls? So, during one "meanwhile, back in the jail" scenes, Jules leaned over and said, "Don't mind me - I'm just a subplot." >grin<

As I started titling this entry, though, I thought - "there's a deeper meaning in that." Really, we as Christians may view our lives as "just a subplot" to the GREAT plot, that is Christ. How many saints have said, "Don't mind me" - Padre Pio, the Little Flower, saints as yet unknown. Those who have lived their lives quietly to God's greater glory.

HowsomeEVER, that does *not* mean that we are called to in any way look down upon our own or other's subplots. This is where the "last shall be first" bit comes into play. In God's eye view, every story is not so much a subplot as a reflection of the plot. Yet, unlike a Platonic worldview, each reflection is good in and of itself - has value.

Perhaps a better phrase would be "variation," as in melodic line. Tolkien would certainly agree with that - God gave us the theme to which we jazz as we will. (Or go completely achordal - which is why I think I've always felt physically ill at "deconstructionist" or atonal "music" - HAH! It's dischord personified - and who is dischord but the fellow we *really don't want* to spend eternity with? Oy. Right - beauty's been done to death; let's try ugly. Honestly, folks - beauty canNOT be done to death, it is life. Ugliness IS death. Thus quoth Zarthrustra.)

In completely unrelated news, I have decided that if I can't keep my living area clean (or at least clean immediately, Mary Poppin having a previous engagement), I can take comfort in at least keeping my WEB boards clean. Except that I have an unfortunate interloper over on PM right now whose tag is far too large and *ruins* the aesthetic of the board. I am in a double crisis: my shower curtain rod has gone missing and my webboard is uneven! Blaugh! Oh the vagaries of life!

Mood: Valiant but weary
Music: In a few seconds, My Fair Lady, unless I can find Camelot first
Where I Ought to Be: On the high seas with far better knees than the ones that I possess
Neat Quote to be Put into a Screenplay Sometime: Julie: How horrible would it be if I were to fall over while standing up? Emily: Well, it depends. Is there a man nearby?

O look - a quiz!

You are a foil fencer. Foil is a weapon of calculation and passion. You glide easily between attack and defense. You can flick to the back or thrust to the chest. What Kind of Fencer Are You?

The things we do.... I suppose I am now officially a blogger.... Gute nacht tout les monde!

Blue, Green, White and Brown

I have officially gone shopping for bathroom supplies today, as well as other sundries for making said apt. look rather more homey. Spent time doodling about Jordan's Furniture and panting over chaise-lounges that were as expensive as armoirs! Alas, no wardrobes to be found amongst them - although one potential armoir with removable shelves which would still play havoc with the ends of dresses but should do well enough for the rest and, when once we are returned to the happy world of closet-owners, looks to be able to be converted into a TELEVISION armoir, which is always something the media-minded ought to keep...in mind.

Elsewise, the room is still resembles something like the exploded and dusty den of a rather pack-ratty scholastic dragon whose hoard has been confiscated and thrown about by the IRS. We are not amused. Nor are we happy with the loss of such items as our hairbrush. Fortunately, we have a comb.

Went sheet-wild tonight, buying up twin sets like nothing else. If I can somehow achieve to make a place of habitation that makes one desire to see the inside of a female White's, I will be satisfied. (Heck, when once everything is out of the CENTER OF THE ROOM I will be glad!)

And now, adieu. Off to take a shower upstairs then set up the shower downstairs. May practicality and aesthetics never meet. Amen. (Oy! ;)

Mood: Relatively Nuanced
Music: Laughter from upstairs
Quote for the Week: "Savvy?"

Right, so I'm putting up this blog because...everyone's doing it, I suppose? Because I'm curious? Because I am attempting to avoid making some sort of sense of the mini-apt. I've just moved into down here? Ah, yes, kemosabe - the latter. Amazing to what lengths we'll go to refuse actual work. Unless, of course, we are overwhelmed with work, in which case "the more you do, the more you do." Finis.

Mood: Puzzled
Music: None, alas
Reading: Spiderwick Chronicals - cute, great pictures