I must be doing something right

Because there was so much going wrong recently. I managed to work myself past the breaking point - which is a pretty far point, let me tell you. The week went something like this:

Monday: School, Choir, Two-hour rehearsal, Make Blocking Form, Copy Blocking Form, Three-hour rehearsal

Tuesday: School, Four-hour rehearsal, Loverly Time on the Town and at Adoration, Staying Up Until 2 a.m. then Waking at 6 a.m. to Finish Grading

Wednesday: School, Mass (Leading Choir), Semi-Cancelled Drama Club (due to feeling ill, feverish and semi-delirious), Two-hour rehearsal (with dancing), Quick End of PoP Blocking, Three-hour rehearsal

Thursday: School, Emergency Choir Meeting, Three-hour rehearsal (split in two with two different groups), Twenty-Minute Dinner, Two-hour Martin Luther King "Celebration," Returning Home Exhausted Only To Read Something Uberdistressing In The State I Was In, Taking Temperature (which wasn't high enough to justify staying home), Going to Sleep after a long talk with Mumsy and then forcing myself to Answer E-mails

Friday: Waking up with only fifteen minutes to get myself together, Finding out my usual route to school is BLOCKED OFF, Teaching "Touchy" Subjects Whilst Admins were in my Class and I Felt More and More Feverish (never a good state to try to make an argument! Either element would make things difficult to begin with: the combination, levelled against a class frequently ungainly as is made the whole thing impossible - ah well, Monday cometh), Cancelling Sixth Period and Asking For Tylenol and Cell Phone (LOL! Both of which things no one is supposed to have. Oy. Y'know - sometimes common sense...?), and then Attempting to Cancel Opera Lesson, Finding Opera Student Can't Receive Calls on Her Phone, Driving Opera Student Home, Pulling Self Together to Get Dinner and Print Off Blocking Form, Discovering That the Hudson Drama Arts Alliance Called (making me laugh; ah, so maybe I won't be taking this Summer off?), Praising God for Fathers Willing to Copy Blocking Forms So Daughters Who Are So Tired They're Shaking Can Sleep for Two Hours before a Three Hour Rehearsal!!!

Saturday: So slept in. And read Entertainment Weekly while listening to Josh Groban. And slept again. And had dinner. And blogged. And now am going to make room more habitable. And then sleep.

Fortunately, my wonderful, wonderful family kept me together this week. Praise God for them. I can't even imagine having gotten through everything without them. And more, for Ch. taking me out of myself. D'you know, in the car yesterday, as I was off to get dinner and attempting to stay alert in the car to GET dinner, I found myself working to remember the lyrics to "Aldonza" from Man of La Mancha. One of my favorite songs - not because I find myself described in that song (or at least not factually), but because it gave me comfort remembering that so many of my students, so many people in the world sadly identify WITH every single line. (Of course, the greater comfort comes from the reprise of "Dulcinea" she sings to Don Quixote at the finale.) But as I sang - belted really - that song in my little Glorielle, I realized that although I did not identify with the lyrics factually, I certainly - and we all, absolutely - identify with Aldonza. We all ARE whores. Every time I sin, I prostrate myself to demons. Every time I sin, I am an adultress against my bridegroom, my Lord. Who, upon really looking at himself, has not said with Aldonza, "Won't you look at me, LOOK at me! God, won't you look at me?" Who has not raged against God for consistently calling us by our true names, by seeing the good within ourselves when we cannot see that good? Who has not been afraid of God for loving us when we know we are not deserving of any love? It's a strange thing, but true, that gentleness and mercy are far more terrifying than anger and abuse. More terrifying, for one cannot blame he who is merciful; one can only blame oneself.

DON QUIXOTE
(spoken) My lady...

ALDONZA
(spoken) I am not your lady!...
I am not any kind of a lady!

(sung) I was spawned in a ditch
By a mother who left me there,
Naked and cold and too hungry to cry;
I never blamed her.
I'm sure she left hoping
That I'd have the good sense to die.

Then, of course, there's my father...
I'm told that young ladies
Can point to their fathers
With maidenly pride;
Mine was some regiment
Here for an hour,
I can't even tell you which side.

So of course I became,
As befitted my delicate birth,
The most casual bride
Of the murdering scum of the earth!

DON QUIXOTE
(spoken) And still thou art my lady.

ALDONZA
(spoken) And still he torments me!
How should I be a lady?

(sung) For a lady has modest and maidenly airs,
And a virtue I somehow suspect that I lack;
It's hard to remember these maidenly airs
In a stable laid flat on your back!

Won't you look at me, look at me,
God, won't you look at me!
Look at the kitchen slut reeking with sweat!
Born on a dung heap to die on a dung heap,
A strumpet men use and forget!

If you feel that you see me
Not quite at my virginal best,
Cross my palm with a coin,
And I'll willingly show you the rest!

DON QUIXOTE
(spoken) Never deny thou art Dulcinea.

ALDONZA
(spoken) Take the clouds from your eyes
and see me as I really am!

(sung) You have shown me the sky,
But what good is the sky
To a creature who'll never
Do better than crawl?

Of all the cruel bastards
Who've badgered and battered me,
You are the cruelest of all!

Can't you see what your gentle
Insanities do to me?
Rob me of anger and give me despair!
Blows and abuse
I can take and give back again,
Tenderness I cannot bear.

So don't reach out to me
For your "Sweet Dulcinea" you call.
I am only Aldonza!
I'm no one, I'm nothing at all!

DON QUIXOTE
(spoken) Now and forever thou art my lady Dulcinea!

(Aldonza screams in despair and collapses.)

~*~

ALDONZA
(sung)Dulcinea... Dulcinea...
Once you found a girl
And called her Dulcinea,
When you spoke the name
An angel seemed to whisper...
Dulcinea... Dulcinea...

Dulcinea... Dulcinea...
Won't you please bring back
The dream of Dulcinea...
Won't you bring me back
The bright and shining glory
Of Dulcinea... Dulcinea...

DON QUIXOTE
(spoken) Then perhaps... it was not a dream...

ALDONZA
(kneeling beside Quixote again.)
(spoken) You spoke of a dream. And about the Quest!

DON QUIXOTE
(spoken) Quest?

ALDONZA
(spoken) Yes, how you must fight and it doesn't matter whether you win or lose if only you follow the Quest.

DON QUIXOTE
(spoken) The words. Tell me the words!

ALDONZA
"To dream the impossible dream"...
but they're your own words!
"To fight the unbeatable foe"...
Don't you remember?
"To be with unbearable sorrow"...
You must remember!
"To run where the brave dare not go!"

DON QUIXOTE
To right the unrightable wrong.

ALDONZA
Yes.

DON QUIXOTE
To love, pure and chaste, from afar

ALDONZA
Yes.

DON QUIXOTE
To try, when your arms are too weary,
To reach the unreachable star!

ALDONZA
Thank you. My Lord!

DON QUIXOTE
But this is not seemly, My Lady.
On thy knees? To me?

ALDONZA
Oh, my Lord, you are not well!

DON QUIXOTE
Not well? What is sickness to the body of a knight-errant? What matter wounds? For each time he falls he shall rise again... and woe to the wicked! Sancho!

SANCHO
Here, Your Grace! More misadventures!

DON QUIXOTE
Adventures, old friend!

DON QUIXOTE
Oh the trumpets of glory
Now call me to ride,
Yes, the trumpets are calling to me,
And wherever I ride,
Ever staunch at my side
My squire and my lady shall be!
I am I, Don Quixote...

DON QUIXOTE, ALDONZA, SANCHO
The Lord of la Mancha
My {Our} destiny calls and I {we} go!
And the wild winds of fortune Shall carry me {us} onward,
Oh, whithersoever...
(Don Quixote falters)

ALDONZA
My Lord!

SANCHO
Master!

DON QUIXOTE
Whithersoever they blow
Onward to glory... I... go...
(crumples to the floor, dead.)

ALDONZA
My Lord...

SANCHO
He is dead! My master is dead.

ALDONZA
A man died. He seemed a good man, but I did not know him....

SANCHO
But...

ALDONZA
Don Quixote is not dead. Believe, Sancho, believe.

SANCHO
Aldonza...

ALDONZA
My name is Dulcinea.

To try, when your arms are too weary....

Mood: Recouping
Music: Oklahoma on the CD, "The Impossible Dream" on the webpage I'm stealing a picture from: Recent Australian Version
Thought: If this is how You treat Your friends, God, no wonder You don't have many! St. Theresa and St. Catherine pray for me!
Link Du Jour: So good to read grown up work a la Mark Shea. BTW, folks, please keep MA in your prayers - should we redefine marriage, the world is watching. What culpability that should be!
And this - just chilling. Even the Greeks, who had ritualized homosexuality, did not elevate it to marriage. And the Greeks, my friends, were blessed with a societal genius that has not been seen or equalled since. Things that make you go "hmmm." But that's one of the great lies we buy into: that the experiences of the past have no bearing on the present. "Those who do not remember history...."

May I ever be convicted

Of seeing good in others. QED. (It's the only thing that's keeping me from despair. %)

What a perilous line we walk.

Mood: Feverish - not feeling well at all. Who's over tired? I am! I am!
Music: Chicago on the mind, but perhaps something instrumental for the lulling off to sleep. (Hmmm, A Winter's Garden?)
Thought: Mothers are wonderful to put things in perspective. Because frequently all that is needed are another pair of clearsighted eyes. "Now what is this and what is that and why does Father leave his rest?" And how ironic is it to read the previous entry and realize it relates better a priotori than a priori? (Is that right use? Shall use regardless.) Retro-writing? No, rather, retro-realization. Let me be a swashbuckler, laughing at life's vagaries.
THIS makes me VERY happy: Courtesy of Jules. Because frequently Rose IS Rose. (HA! I smell like ROSES! Or I stop and smell the roses...or eat the roses...or God bless Rosie....)

The Boy Scouts: Are selling chocolate bars. Said bars are in my house. God loves me.

Obfuscatory

The prospect of falling
From favour, from grace
From sight, mind, and memory
From all the happy moments
Snatched
Beneath the Watcher's nose
Chills the heart of me
As though I have already
Fallen.

Cruel winds bear me for a while
Tattering skin and sleeve,
Whispering malice -
Words against what I have known,
He whom I have known,
He I thought I knew;
Tears my hard-won confidence
Leaves me only with
The whispering wind,
And the thousand sharpened whispers
That chill the heart
Of me.

But the wind does not change you;
You are not swayed by its malice,
You hold your arms about you
And seek for warmer winds
To bear you where you will.
Nor can whispers change the heart of you
The essence of you
Of being.

Only I have fallen,
Allowed myself to slip into the smiling snare
Allowed my ears to pick out words
From the formless, errant air.
What though the wind is jealous?
What though it rages?
Let us go to the summer lands,
You and I.
Let us spread a sail,
Lift wing and glide,
Turn the wind to our advantage,
Laugh at it,
Into it,
And away.

Mood: Ugh - headachy
Music: Chicago
Thunk: Je ne veux pas aller a la theatre! Je suis tres fatigue! AAAAAAAAAAUGH! Arrete! Arrete! Arrete!

It's not so much creativity

As motivation! Hmmm, they got about 75% right - not bad. Always thought I was ambidextrous!

Mind Media Brain Persuasion Test:

"Emily, you exhibit an even balance between left- and right- hemisphere dominance and a slight preference for visual over auditory processing. With a score this balanced, it is likely that you would have slightly different results each time you complete this self-assessment quiz.

You are a well-rounded person, distinctly individualistic and artistic, an active and multidimensional learner. At the same time, you are logical and disciplined, can operate well within an organization, and are sensitive towards others without losing objectivity. You are organized and goal-directed. Although a 'thinking' individual, you 'take in' entire situations readily and can act on intuition.

You sometimes tend to vacillate in your learning styles. Learning might take you longer than someone of equal intellect, but you will tend to be more thorough and retain the material longer than those other individuals. You will alternate between logic and impulse. This vacillation will not normally be intentional or deliberate, so you may experience anxiety in situations where you are not certain which aspect of yourself will be called on.

With a slight preference for visual processing, you tend to be encompassing in your perceptions, process along multidimensional paths and be active in your attacking of situations or learning.
Overall, you should feel content with your life and yourself. You are, perhaps, a little too critical of yourself -- and of others -- while maintaining an 'openness' which tempers that tendency.

Indecisiveness is a problem and your creativity may not be in keeping with your potential. Being a pragmatist, you downplay this aspect of yourself and focus on the more immediate, obvious and the more functional "

In other news, had a loverly time on Saturday, but sadly have confirmed that I don't much care for the third installment of Lord of the Rings *duck.* Hugh Jackman's Oklahoma! on the other hand is still...*shiver of delight.* Sadly, Chicago on the CD player is not aiding the blocking of Sighing Softly to the River (hmmm, can't think WHY! ;). Noticed that I have to have the Bergomask finished by Tuesday - augh! How how how precious? No, you can, dearheart. Nearly done blocking. Nearly there. (Then I realized: I was thinking out loud again.) Reading the same parrotted essay forty-five times is NOT delightful. Off to read the same parrotted essay only thirty-five times next. Danced to All that Jazz - good work out. I do so like things with definitive beats. Coldplay doesn't do enough with their drums. (And the ghost of James Joyce rises from his grave to strangle all those who follow in his footsteps.)

Mood: Snerk. No, they can't take that away from me!
Music: "They Both Reached for the Gun" from Chicago
Prayer: Jesus, I trust in Thee!
Edited to Add: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUGH! Beginning the "tough subjects" Monday: aka Marriage for Sophomores and Abortion for Seniors. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUGH! I know I have all my materials ready, but after such a long absence, it's always a little unnerving to step off into territory that hasn't been covered since last year. But it'll be fine. There's a comfort in having bungled through the mine-field of high schoolers on "issue subjects" before and survived. Must keep Ch.'s method in mind. Seemed to work well. Now, will I have to take his class? Ugh. Well, Lord, Thy will be done - but I'd be glad to keep my free. Will miss...well. Anywho, good thing I printed off all those abortionfacts.com info last year. Files: good stuff. Remembering where you PUT your files: even better. Lord, bless my students! Amen!

Drip, drip, drop, little April Showers

What might have ruined my day:

* I woke up late (what else) and so got to school just as my students got in, which made me feel awful stupid. Fortunately, the teacher with the exams came in a minute after so I looked competent! (Hoopla!) Started with English which is great because it's all essay so near impossible to cheat. (Pain to grade, though. Bless those teachers!)

* The discipline problem I had I let off easy based on the fact that all three deny the charge. I highly doubt the issue still, but since I can't guarantee hard evidence in the case, I couldn't do more than slap their metaphorical wrists. Gah. We'll see. I can at least hold them to a higher standard now, and shall do so.

* We had to rush through rehearsal since several students had to leave uberearly, but fortunately we got through everything at least once. Great. And with nearly all the actors there! And can we say that my take on the last scene of Act IV is so cool and groundbreaking - nyah! Still the prettiest. Maybe. If it works and makes sense. Well, it can't be any worse than the Mirimax abomination.

* When I came home, the pipes had sprung a leak that had started to flood into my room. Thankfully Mom's spider-senses told her that the sounds of the house were off so she caught it pretty early on, but consequently I came home to Peter mopping my room and the need to pick up from there.

* My paycheck wasn't ready today. Hopefully it will be ready for tomorrow so I can give $200 to Mum for bills and $200 to Mum again for the plumber. And I'll need another $230 for wood for MSND platforms. Which means it's a good thing the next payday is the 30th!

What Made My Day Enormously:

* Nearly finishing the humungo class's exams! Hurrah for me! Hurrah for exams that only have two short answers and one essay! Hoopla! Next exam is SO using an answer sheet - that way I don't have to even flip pages. Cheat sheets for teachers. Oy.

* A rehearsal that went FABULOUSLY last night for PoP - I'm so excited for that show now! And MSND is really shaping up - it's curious to discover that so much of making Shakespeare intelligible is TONE of lines. Huh. Knowing what word to stress, how to almost "sing" the line to make it sound "normal" to our ears. Of course, MSND is one of the easier of his plays to do so with.

* Events related over at the usual bat-channel. Events which make me laugh and wonder where the cameras are. Events which necessitate the putting on of Oklahoma!

* That hot water is available to me through a shower. Ah for indoor plumbing!

* For Suz. counting us as her miracle charity! :)

C'est finis. So is it written, so it is done.

Mood: Tra-LA! I love the Spring!
Music: "People Will Say We're in Love" from Oklahoma! - so great that they left in dialogue
Thought re: today's pics: Sigh. I want to be held like that. (Although I suspect in the first it's really mostly on her strength. He's just providing leverage, she's providing the stability. And yet it looks so effortless.)
Question: Is it necessary for every musical to include at least one incredibly obnoxious song? The one "It's an Outrage! It's a Scandal!" that just came on a second before is...ugh. It's like "Jeanie's Packing Up" from Brigadoon. Hugh Jackman's version (I know it's not HIS, but...) is so good in other respects, even making me love "The Farmer and the Cowboy Must Be Friends" and "Poor Jud is Dead" which I've shuddered at before. But some songs CANNOT be redeemed. Ugh.
Thought Redux: We have heard the words, and certainly I have often applied to myself the term, "Romantic Fool." And surely, if by "romantic" we mean "ungrounded eros" fool, then indeed this is the height of folly. If, however, by "romantic" we mean the greater sense revived by Chesterton, that is the great Christian adventure of orthodoxy, the adventure of life, and more of a life lived on the terms of striving for true life, which is Heaven, or an emulation of that true life thereof, then when we add "fool" we mean not the foolishness which is sinful and destructive, but rather we shout with all the saints that "the wisdom of God seems like folly to men." Oh, foolish wisdom! Oh, romantic foolishness! I am a romantic fool. The wild, wheeling, life-inebriated reeling of this world and all her delightful vagaries intoxicates me, makes me giddy - the moreso when I can see my own tight-rope wire before me, when I hold out my arms and hope I don't topple. Aye me. (She speaks! Oh, speak again! Exeunt Juliet, bound for a better play, and to justify the "exeunt" add in a pursuing bear.)
Edited to add at 10:26 p.m.: Jetzt, mit meine keine Geschwister Frau und unser Internetleitung, ich bin wütend . Ich kann nicht unser Klavier spielen; sie hörte auf ihr Musik die ganze Zeit sie machte das Forum für kein aber ihr Herzenswunsch, für Spaß. Das ist gut, aber - immer er ist "das Internet!" Warum? Ack! Gott, eine freunde ist dringend notwendig für ihr! Und, entschuldigen mir für mein schlecht Deutsch.

Siren Sounds Salero

Rule #1 in Life: There is never quite enough time to sleep.

Rule #2: There is never enough hot water - or drains that don't drain at inopportune times.

Rule #3: Fingernails and toenails don't grow at the same rate: making the pedicure you have today the pedicure you'll have for the next several months.

Question #1: Why shaving? (Darn world war II pseudo-nylons!)

Question #2: Who discovered hot wax and ripping strips? May I kiss them?

(Question #2A: Would I want to kiss them?)

Question #3: Who did invent bread?

Conundrum #1: Wherefore "grading"? Why not learning?

Conundrum #2: How is it that a well-made bed makes any room look tidy?

Conundrum #3: How is it that people ever marry if no one is perfect?

Frustration #1: Why is it that those listening only hear the third time around?

Frustration #2: Why is it that worldbuilding that is so well done it's completely believable is not believed by those who read works of worldbuilding?

Frustration #3: Why am I always five beats behind where I ought to be, leaving me only one beat ahead of where I must be?

Solution #1: Pampering can soothe the savage soul. Or at least clean it.

Solution #2: Prayer, particularly the rosary, is a powerful thing.

Solution #3: Reading good literature or better philosophy is conducive to better thinking and right reason - which is in precious short supply.

Mood: Trudge.
Music: Sinbad - need to work in the siren music to MSND if poss. - brilliant piece of work, that.
Thought: "And if I die on that battlefield (Will you mourn me?)/Can I face my God as I am? (Watch over him, if You love me!)/If to my love I've kept silent and cold (Mercy)/Then before Love, how can I stand?"

Oh, I love designing WEBPAGES

But they are neither warm nor fuzzy. Ah ca.

New personal splash and main pages here. Will at some point get all pages uniform.

Off to do what else? Work.

Mood: I need more TIME!
Music: 'The Cowboy and the Farmer Should Be Friends" on mental jutebox
Thought: Weeeeird dream about having the plane I was on explode over some ocean but making it alive because I could suddenly dive and then making it to this island and using a beeper, a digital camera and make-up to relay that we needed to be picked up - but being all upset that Julie had time to clean her tropical island room and I was still futzing with cleaning up the piles of newspapers that we had accidentally littered the island with when we hauled ourselves from the wreckage. Huh. Weird.

Between the desire and the action lies the shadow

And somewhere between these quizzes is some interest. Moseying on back to work....


You are blessed with FAERY wings. Beauty,
laughter, life, magic...that's what you are all
about. You are refreshingly innocent and happy
with your life of purity and play. Life's a
game and it's a good one. In your eyes there's
no way to lose! You can be very mischeivous and
have been known to cause trouble, but it's all
in the name of fun and not meant to really harm
anyone. You like to play tricks on people who
aren't quite as bright or clever as you - which
is almost everyone. Nature is the setting you
prefer to be in - Always. Barefoot and wild you
can't be tamed. You're probably a restless
spirit who loves to travel, and quite a
dreamer. Your creativity is astounding and your
art (of whatever media - from writing to
painting to drama) is like something from
another world - ethereal and often very
fantasy-oriented. You can either be a social
butterfly or a loner with their head in the
clouds - but rarely inbetween. You stubbornly
refuse to accept responsibility or to give in
to the wishes of others - unless you feel like
it. You have a strong passion for music and
can't imagine life without it. You'll grow up
someday, but you'll always be a child at heart.
You are adventurous and love to take risks, and
feel a deep connection with the weather,
plants, and animals. You prefer sunshine to
thunder or snow, the warmth of summer to
autumn's chill, and quiet forests to suburban
backyards. Magic through and through, you are
far more powerful than you seem, and are
capable of being extremely passionate. Though
you can be childish, naive, stubborn, and
self-absorbed, one thing is certain - life with
you will never be boring!


*~*~*Claim Your Wings - Pics and Long Answers*~*~*
brought to you by Quizilla


Your wings are DRAGON wings. Massive and
covered in scales, they shimmer with strength
and magic. They are the most obvious display of
your power - though it runs equally throughout
your heart and mind. You are uncompromising and
grave, with a profound sense of justice. You
have firm ideas about what is right and what is
wrong and set out to fix what problems you can.
You realize that you are more capable of
dealing with life and evil than most, and as
such you see it as your responsibility to
protect those who cannot defend themselves. You
have existed since antiquity and as such you
are wise far beyond your years in this
lifetime. While you strive for fairness and
peace, if someone should steal from your cave
of treasure (though not all that glitters is
gold) or compromise the happiness of you or one
who is close to you - they have signed their
death warrant. You have a mighty vengeance and
will unleash it upon such people immediately
and mercilessly. Arguing with you is
useless...you rarely back down and are known
for holding firm in your beliefs. Sometimes you
feel intensely burdened with the troubles of
others...acting as a Guardian can get so
wearisome. But you never give up...you see it
as your life's mission. Often very introverted,
you can be so smart...it's scary. Such a
combination of intelligence, creativity, power,
beauty, and magic is often intimidating to
those around you - who are also unlikely to
understand you. Arrogant, proud, overserious,
and sometimes a bit greedy or obsessed with
whatever treasure you choose to pursue...you
have enchanted people for centuries, and will
continue to do so.


*~*~*Claim Your Wings - Pics and Long Answers*~*~*
brought to you by Quizilla

Mood: Work work work, I try not to complain
Music: The Best of the Monkees!
Thought: I loves me Julie!
And one more for the road (Edited at 11:04 p.m.)


Tale as Old as Time, Song as Old as Rhyme, BEAUTY
AND THE BEAST!!! Singing Utensils, Frenchmen,
and Disney Magic. Stuck in a Provincial Town,
you're trying to find something greater.
You're suitors aren't helping and the rowdy
townspeople only cause trouble. Don't worry if
you're stuck as an inanimate object under a
spell, just Be Our Guest and soon enough You'll
be Human Again.


In Which New MUSICAL do You Belong? (13 Outcomes & Pictures!)
brought to you by Quizilla

Et maintenant, je dur faire les devoires!

Alors! Tis time to put the nose to the grindstone and work on blocking since snow is preventing the getting of paint for the bathroom, which means there's no WAY I'm going to put stuff up on the unpainted walls. *sigh* A few thoughts:

* Pizza with the family is good. A large pizza for $5 is even better.

* Oklahoma with Hugh Jackman is really REALLY good.

* Thank God for the ability to laugh and the making of silly chase scenes. "Adapt and overcome."

* Trail mix is Heaven sent. Or at least sent from Carlsbad, CA. Which makes one wonder how a town received such an unfortunate name.

* The laying off of the Florida hand-animation department is NOT good. Times like these, I wish I were uberrich now so that I could hire them all myself, give them GOOD scripts and wow the world with the beauty of two dimensions. Part of why fairy tales work (frequently) BETTER in 2-D is because we come to these stories with a "storybook" idea to begin with. To make them live action or something approaching 3-D doesn't feel "real" for them. Example: as much as I'm looking forward to the movie of A Series of Unfortunate Events, I'd actually feel more satisfied if they made the movie out of Mr. Helquist's line drawings. I'd be almost happy if it were B/W! *sigh* Y'know, just because it's not "the lastest technology" DOESN'T outmode it. Two mediums can exist quite happily side-by-side, better equipped for this purpose or the other. One genre does NOT negate another, although one may rise or fall in popularity more than another at any given time. To eradicate a medium is tantamount to eradicating culture - which is perhaps why our Borg-like pseudo-culture is so keen on eradicating anything "so five minutes ago." We are the Worm Jormungand, ever devouring ourselves and recreating ourselves out of our own excrement. Indeed, we are right to revile what Western culture is becoming - but in point of fact, we revile what it is becoming because we mourn what it had been: shining, glorious, Christendom pinnacle of virtue and color. All that's required is for us to stop munching on our rear-ends and start feeding from the Tree of Life! Gah.

Mood: Rassin-frassin Jormungand.
Music: Ballet sequence from Oklahoma - which is nothing like Fantasia's AWESOME ballet sequence! (Tee hee hee! Between that at "Hello Muddah, Hello Faddah" that piece has been ruined for me - but if you catch it half-way through and so get rid of your presuppositions it's a gorgeous piece of music.)
Thought: I'm going to go upstairs and replenish my match supply so I can light a candle down here. Oh, and turn over my sheets.

Media D.T.'s (and pretty pictures)

Hello, my name is Emily and I am media addict. I've been really really really good lately, but tonight (due to several factors) I decided to go out and finally get A Mighty Wind. Oh, and the latest Coldplay album. And is that 28 Days really cheap? Ooooh, discount Best of the Monkees! And Best of the Chieftans ditto. Big Fish a must - couldn't find Secondhand Lions (poot) - but they had Hugh Jackman's Oklahoma! (swoon). But no Mighty Wind found I at WalMart (although they did have Jim Henson's complete Storyteller episodes! Yeah, well, how long will it be available? I missed the boat on the movie albums....), so it's off to Target. And Target's selling discount DVD's of Little Women, Midsummer Night's Dream (3.99, no joke!), Ever After, Much Ado About Nothing and...yes! A Mighty Wind.

Johnny English is out this week, but it will have to wait. And I am still patiently abiding for the full X-Men Trilogy (or whatever it will be), as well as the 12-disc set of LOTR (which had BETTER come out!), and at some point Indiana Jones will have to be gotten...but those are larger purchases and can most definitely wait. They'll still be out, certainly.

I loves me media. And I so needed to see Bob Balaban's ubernervous character get whacked upside the head in A Mighty Wind. *sigh* Great movie. Great music - I'd really love to have a whole Mitch and Mickey album.

But anywho, so I plan to get my bathroom in full working order tomorrow. Paint the walls and then hopefully even decorate them by painting ivy, etc. over it, hang up the shelf, assemble the hamper bought over the summer, and make at least one room completely lovely and habitable. My own larger area will be a greater undertaking - something I haven't the time for right now since I need to convert into hardcopy my blocking notes. What was it Viggo Mortensen (sp?) said again? "Adapt and overcome." That's it, me boyo.

What an utter waste of blog, to paraphrase the great Cleese. Off to Equal Rites by Terry Pratchett if I can stand it. If not, I'll pick up Feet of Clay again after all. Hmmmm, maybe we need our own 28 Days program?

Actually, the other night after a bunch of stress, Dad graciously offered to take me out somewhere so that we could talk. We did so. He explained to me the Small Rift idea. I'd love it if he'd take classes in calculus or whatever he needs to develop this theory further. It's fascinating. Brain steak. So good to think in the realm of advanced science and math, rather than the subjective world of art. I am reminded why I took those subjects in high school. Anywho, so I advanced to him my theory that what with the "rise of ADD behavior" it seems to be directly linked with our own fragmentation of society via an overdose of the senses. Wouldn't Locke laugh - Mr. You Can Only Trust What You Sense himself! See where it leads you! It breaks apart the psyche because nothing holds your senses together. You have no filter and in our society a constant barrage. Remove the spirit, remove silence which is the language of the spirit, and we're grasping after fleeting sound and sight, unable to speak. One desires to burst into Simon and Garfunkle. There's more to this. Must brush up first on my St. Theresa of Avila, St. John of the Cross and Aristotle's Metaphysics. Ugh! And another victim to fragmentation overload! Where are the long stretches of time in which to think? Lord, only in Heaven?

Mood: Wistful. I should like to go to my true home, please.
Music: Clocks by Coldplay
Thought: It cannot be possible to experience boredom outside of time, because boredom is created by the inability to know what to do with time.
Thought Redux: I wonder if light, space and time really are all so closely intertwined. Which came first? Or in our focus on matter re: the beginning of the world, is it that we have forgotten the first and last presuming them to have also always existed? Is light really such an important factor re: the genesis of creation? But it must be result, which makes greater sense. Although to be a result it must be from a source which is itself light. Oooh, I love philosophy theology physics!
Caption above: Emily upon arising: What time is it? Too early to be noon, I hope. Bring me hot chocolate. And a man. Or just the chocolate.
Caption below: Emily before retiring: I ponder, I think, I wear a bonnet and an apron and have a lady in waiting. Or I ponder and think.

This is nothin'!

If I can survive the following in my limited experience, I can survive this. This is nothin.

Anything Goes ~ Actor, Mrs. Harcourt

* At Dress Rehearsal, we completely messed up our lines by one guy feeding me a line from ten pages later, I picked up that, we kept going until we came to one place where we realized we were too far and so jumped back but didn't jump back far enough so we came too soon to the place we first hit and then realized we hadn't introduced a crucial plot point so jumped back again and then jumped forward but jumped too far again and NEARLY got through it but one sentence from the end we broke up laughing.

* Also at Dress Rehearsal, our director yelled at us, broke his cane over his knee and stormed out. I learned later this is what he did at EVERY Dress Rehearsal.

* Last night of performance, in the second number, the romantic lead dislocated his knee...and then continued on with the play, including the part when he had to crawl on the stage.

Our Town ~ Actor, Mrs. Soames

* One night, one of the actors simply didn't show up during an expositional information scene. The other two actors who were new to theatre had to come up with all his lines while not looking like they were answering their own questions.

You Can't Take It With You ~ Actor, Mrs. Kirby

* One character was sent out to buy pickled pigs feet during Act II and was meant to return on his cue - except that he didn't, and he didn't, and he didn't...leaving the guy playing my husband to have to come up with all this extraneous dialogue about the cultivation of orchids.

The French Butler ~ An Evening's Diversion ~ Director, 1998

* We decided to put on the show with only a month to rehearse, my first play ever to rehearse

* Our romantic lead refused to kiss the heroine because his girlfriend was in the audience. They broke up right after the performance regardless.

* Our foppish character who acts as the catalyst had to be replaced two weeks before performance because the fellow who was supposed to play the role hadn't realized he wasn't going to be around the weekend of the show

* Hence our butler had to step up to play the role of the fop, and we had to beg one of our friends to be the butler. The fop, who speaks in paragraphs, wrote down his speeches in his journal prop and read half of his lines on stage.

* At dress rehearsal this group not affiliated with the University at all happened to be using the rehearsal space although we had blocked it out. Much fuming and uber-politeness ensued.

* We were such a small production, our actors had to be the stage crew as well!

Salome ~ Director, 1999

* A week before performance, our Herod still hadn't memorized his last ten pages of dialogue. Consequently, I had to go over every line of dialogue with him on Easter Sunday for five hours.

* We lost one of our guards four weeks before performance due to a schedule conflict. Fortunately, someone else stepped up and was better suited physically to the role.

* At tech/dress I hadn't realized that I had put in too many cues for the tech people to try to combine tech/dress without simply a dry tech. Tempers were very high.

Wizard of Oz ~ Director, 2001

* I was given 425 students ages 3-14 who all had to be in this ONE production

* I was given no budget

* I was given a sound-eating gym with the new stage and the priest who ran the school didn't want me to have a sound system (fortunately we got one donated anyway)

* We got the sound system so late that several of our sound cues were WAY off (Dorothy hitting the Tin Man's chest and then five seconds LATER we hear the rap on his chest!)

* Likewise, the wireless mikes kept brushing on the costumes, not working, falling off, etc. The stage mikes kept falling into the actors and our Wizard had no mike whatsoever so the first night the Scarecrow grabbed a mike off the stand in front of him and ran to the curtain with it BEFORE they were supposed to see the Wizard!

* The stage was linoleum so I couldn't build a set on it with any safety

* The stage had ONE backstage entrance and no backstage or sidestage to speak of whatsoever

* My Scarecrow infected his knee when jumping on a trampoline and then falling off TWO WEEKS before performance. We managed to train an understudy, but our original Scarecrow made it and despite all protestations still did 99% of the original blocking

Twelfth Night ~ Director, 2002

* I was given no budget

* I was given no stage (they have torn out the stage! There's just a lonely curtain hanging over concrete!)

* I was hired late in the year

* HCH had not done real theatre for at least three years

* When I did get a stage, it was the Town Hall which eats sound, which had one sidestage area, one backstage entrance, and one front stage entrance and...

* A giant window in the middle of the stage (no backstage) that ruined any possibility for lighting

* Which was small anyway because we had one spotlight and we couldn't put it in the balcony (because it was considered "unsafe" although it was no less sturdy than any other balcony in the world) to maximize size

* One of the actors didn't bother to tell me he had severe asthma until way AFTER the performance weekend and I had put him through two back to back swordfights

The French Butler ~ An Evening's Diversion ~ Director, 2002

* We put on the show with 15 hours of rehearsal

* On the second night of performance, the transformer blew out entirely and the electric company couldn't get there until half way through the show and couldn't fix it at the moment regardless, so...

* We started the show by running home and bringing back flashlights, jar candles, and lots of extension cords.

* The lights we either put on the stage or gave to the audience to get them to hold on the actors so that they could see who was speaking

* For the first half-hour we put on a pathetic variety song (aka, I ran backstage and said, "Quick! Can anyone do anything? Jokes? Tricks? Songs? We've got to stall!" [we didn't know it was the transformer - we thought it was just a brown out to begin with]).

* Finally, our spotlight operator cobbled together 30 feet of extension cord and ran it up to the garage that still had power and so half-way through Act II of the three act play we had power to anything that could be plugged in

* Which meant we only had one spotlight and the audience still had to hold the flashlights

* At the end, we had the flashlight holders make an honor guard to the stairs so that people could leave

* Strangely, this bizarre performance was better received than the previous night when all had gone as planned

* Unfortunately, our videography wasn't what it is now and we have only long shots from R and L on the dress and first night, and then our close-ups are on the bizarre night making for a very weird show

* My brother and his friend who were in the show decided to throw in a commercial for Altoids right before the climax of the play. Hey. Why not.

Brigadoon ~ Director, 2003

* Again, very small budget, but at least we had a better stage (St. Mary's), better costumes, better sound and better lights...

* Except that one of our follow spot guys blew out TWO lightbulbs (we really don't know how) on ONE spotlight

* The stage crew were supposed to bring on Harry Beaton when he's dead. They're small. He's huge. But we've got a stretcher - no problem. Except that one night, one of them lost their footing and dropped the stretcher WITH Harry Beaton on it. Dead Harry's eyes flew open and his arms dropped to grip the edge of the stretcher

* Our Jeff was expelled two weeks before performance. Fortunately, his leaving was the cause of the cast finally bonding together on a common emotion, and the fellow who stepped up to bat with ten rehearsals was fully off-book and able to do the choreography!

* Our romantic leads HATED one another. Which wouldn't have been a problem except that they kept digging at one another, and so when by accident in the chase scene Harry's sword brushed Fiona's ankle, she burst into huge tears, ran off the stage, and didn't return until coaxed and told she was a wonderful actress and that everyone loved her - some hour later

* Since this was our first musical in a while...um...not all the voices were quite...um...up to par....

* On the last night, Harry's sash over his shoulder got loose and consequently he wasn't as stable (trying to fix it) when he went down on his knee during the Maggie/Harry dance, so Maggie wobbled as she tried to stand on his knee

* One night, Harry was holding Fiona so close that her, um, help in endowments, became totally askew. Fortunately, his arm was the only thing keeping her together.

* On the last night, Charlie was so eager to finish the act he yelled out, "Get him!" BEFORE Harry said that he planned to run away

Bearskin ~ Director, 2003

* Again, rehearsal was ubertight, the moreso since we never had everyone together until performance due to summer vacations, etc.

* I was still orchestrating the music up to the morning of performance

* There was a big hoopla about when we could have the stage because St. Ann's said that they HAD to have us out of there by Friday (July 4th!) afternoon so that they could set up that evening for their Vacation Bible Study. They didn't start setting up until after 5 p.m. mass on SUNDAY. So we were forced to have a performance on July 4th when we could have had a 3,4,5th evening performances and 6th matinee after all. Power struggles are not pretty. But lying is even less pretty

* Consequently, we were gypped of a full week for tech/dress

* One of our thieves dropped out so she could do soccer and then wasn't played as much as she thought she was going to be (my brother stepped up)

* Our father, Firmin, had to drop out because he wasn't going to be there for the performance after all (Dad stepped up)

* Our clarinetist dropped out because she couldn't remember how to play the clarinet (she's been playing oboe)

* Our cellist dropped out because he didn't realize he'd have to be at every rehearsal

* Our pianist was away the week before performance on vacation

* The second night of performance the Shadow did a round off and his Voice was too close to him and got a faceful of foot

* The second night of performance Mireille forgot to bring out and give the crucifix to the Shadow (a major plot point), and so she felt horrible and missed a few lines of one of her cues (she pulled herself together for the rest of the show!).

* Consequently, I ran backstage, found the crucifix, ran behind the curtain and thrust it at one of the sisters, just as the lights came up to throw her shadow on the wall (early because I was calling the show and our lights person wasn't sure which verse he was supposed to raise the lights on) - so I'm imagining my hand in huge shadow suddenly retreating

* Consequently, she gave it to one of the angels who, after she came out to take away the souls of the slain, slipped the crucifix to the Shadow just in time for him to put it on so the Gypsy/Devil could take it off!

* The stage crew never quite got down the timing to bring out the Gypsy's glove so she could put it on to take off the crucifix

* On the third night, one of the stage crew was in SHORTS

* On the third night, the Shadow tripped as he ran up the stairs, trying to look manly

* On the second night, the Shadow got his ankle nicked and had to go throughout the rest of the play regardless

* On the second night, the Shadow's Voice completely blanked out as he went up for his big Act II solo that's RIGHT after the intermission. He sang it perfectly until he "woke up" on the last night and got his foot caught in the chair leg and then tried to kick it off his leg - a rather comic end to a song about a man who's afraid he's just been damned

This is nuthin'. It's a mystery. The show must go on. Possibly she won't go down, possibly she'll stay afloat, possibly all this will come to an end on a positive note!

I'm writing down all the accidents - but to be honest, despite whatever might happen - the SHOW MUST GO ON. And more importantly, these items are not ALL that happened. MOST of what happened was just fine. But in theatre you're not just dealing with yourself - you're putting responsibility into other people's hands. You rehearse and rehearse as much as possible and try to get everything together - in my recent experience, with no support, no budget, frequently no stage (such things are changing and make a WORLD of difference) - but the point is that wonderful beauty was created, and behind stage all this chaos was going on. Chaos most people don't even know about.

(Like when 100 dead pigeons fell down on Jesus's head in Jesus Christ Superstar on the ending chord - they hadn't realized how close the pigeons were to the lights - and this was a prof. performance! Or when in Les Mis the guy who does the turntable wasn't paying attention and kept messing up how far he turned it, causing Thenardier to have to walk away from his tavern completely to remain in the front of the stage without being rotated to the back of the stage. Or in another performance, Eponine was wearing falsies that came loose so she looked pregnant for a bit and she just waited until she wasn't the focus of attention and then grabbed her falsie and pulled it back into place without breaking character. Or when in Phantom of the Opera the chandelier got caught on the wire and so only came down at an excruciatingly slow rate prompting Kristen and I to think that if anyone didn't get out of the way by the time it puttered to a stop way before the stage, they DESERVED to die. Or in the same performance, the Phantom got himself twisted up in his cape so he had to wriggle himself on his belly across the stage in one of his scenes with Christine. Or at that Hamlet in the Globe when Pelonious forgot his line and had to be fed it from audience members! And at that same performance, one of the Groundlings fainted dead away, and no one blinked an eye but kept going on with the show. Or when in Richard II in Stratford-on-Avon, their John of Gaunt became very sick and so they had to drag in every wandering veteran and give them the script to read ON STAGE! Or when in the Hudson High performance of Hello Dolly one of their actors decided to do a split although he'd been told not to and did indeed strain his...privates and was unable to go on for the last performance.]

Theatre is risk.

Life is risk.

Not unreasonable risk. Not risk taken without precaution to alleviate if not eradicate the risk. But in point of fact, everything we do is risk. Should we avoid risk, we become Mrs. Havesham.

What have you risked today?

Mood: Plaugh.
Music: A Mighty Wind
Thought: Strawberry Daquiris are good.

For tonight we'll merry, merry be!

Come, messmates, pass the bottle 'round
Our time is short, remember,
For our grog must stop,
And our spirits drop,
On the first day of September.
For tonight we'll merry, merry be,
For tonight we'll merry, merry be,
For tonight we'll merry, merry be,
Tomorrow we'll be sober.

~ Farewell to Grog

Oui. We needs our grog or similar happy (or at least pseudo-not-quite-as-sad) drink. Like hot chocolate. Fortunately, hot chocolate has not been banned. Lord, spare us from prima donnas and from those who cannot see that certain items in life are not safety hazards. And give us the grace to laugh it off! Amen.

Mood: Nnnnngh
Music: See above - but I dreamt all night about PoP
Thought: And all will be well and all will be well and all manner of thing shall be well.

Everyone has a water buffalo

But not everyone has a wonderful brother, mother, sister and father who...

* Bring one breakfast in bed...and lunch.
* Tell one that "It's OK to go to sleep at 6 p.m. Honey, you need a rest."
* Buy one ARAGORN LORD OF THE RINGS POSTERS!!!
* Go out day after day to a thankless just-above-minimum-wage-job and stay late when relief doesn't come and doesn't come and doesn't come.

And now to finish up my blocking for rehearsal tonight. God is good and cancels school due to sub-zero weather when one is so exhausted that A Touch of Mink affords three chuckles.

Mood: I want another Watch book from Pratchett!
Music: Josh Groban's latest
Thought: My legs are cold.

One down, four-fifths of the other to do

Muddling through the senior exam, now that I've finished up the sophmores! Hoopla! And after a burnt bag of individual popcorn, I have successfully made and eaten a second bag (unlike the teabag that decided to explode this morning in the cup whilst in the microwave and so I decided to drink milk straight instead). On my third coke. Must - stay - awake. Existential music on. In a tank-top wearing mood, if it weren't so cold.

And what's with all the "individual sized" this and that? Indicative, is it not, of our fragmented society? Ah - that was my thought from far before. Speaking of fragmentation, I've been feeling rather like I haven't had a proper day in a while. My days are fragmented into bits of days, into episodes, into hours melded together, disdainful of each other's company. I have episodes of mornings, of afternoon rehearsals, of evening rehearsals, of this errand or that, of this stretch of time preparing for another stretch of time which despite the obvious connection are not connected. It is lamentable that our lives have becomes so individual - that is, separated, fragmented, unhuman - in this so-called "progressed" and "civilised" West...but that such fragmentation should reach the level of the individual himself, so that his very being is shattered from within as well as from without. We are a world of Humpty Dumpties, with no King's Men to even acknowledge our shattered fall.

Mood: Le peu - je le fume, moi. Ou est que c'est ma vin rose? (Rose comme mon sang; mon sang, qu'il est lentement comme les jours sur le mer. Mal franglais, mal franglais!)
Music: Was Alison Kraus, is now Royal Tenenbaums
Thought: Ugh. Exams.
Caption for above picture: Pippin (whispered): "What's she saying?"
Sam: "I don't know - but I don't loik the sound of it! Mr. Frodo - are you all roit?"
Frodo: "It's growing heavier!"
Merry (thinking): "I don't know how, but I look really good in this picture!"

Je deteste les exams

Although not nearly as much as, I suspect, my students hate exams. Right, as I plow on (but I've got a SYSTEM now! Whoopee!), here's something to make you laugh:


Congratulations! You're Pippin!


Which Lord of the Rings character and personality problem are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

My guess is that came through because I said if orcs attacked I'd run around in circles, hoping to confuse them! ;P And a pretty pic:


Rain: You are the sound of rain. You have two
important sides. There is your strong, powerful
side and your calm, gentle side. Both are very
important. Rain also reflects a bit of darkness
in your personality. It isn't bad, just shows
that along with the good, you also can see bad,
which can come in handy.


What Sound Are You?(now w/ pics)
brought to you by Quizilla

Mood: Drat - back to work
Music: Evanescence...must go rummaging, find something else....
Thought: I had this fabulous thought earlier...ooh! A butterfly!

Sniffle

Just came back from seeing Big Fish before I head off to work to pick up my Sophmore text to finish up my exams due tomorrow. (Kinda - they give us fake deadlines so that we'll make the real one. Tried and true tactic - use(d) it myself, often.) Anywho...whoa...go see Big Fish!!! So so so good. Beautiful, in fact.

Otherwise, this amuses me:


You are Miss Piggy.
You are talented and the center of attention. At
least you'd like to think you are. You're
really just a pig.

FAVORITE EXPRESSIONS:
"Moi", "Moi" and
"Moi!"
LAST BOOK READ:
"Women Who Run With Frogs And The Frogs Who
Better Wise Up Quick"

FAVORITE MOVIE:
"To Have and Have More"

DRESS SIZE:
If it's expensive, it fits.

BEST FEATURES:
Eyes, eyebrows, eyelashes, nose, cheeks, hair,
ears, neck, shoulders, arms, elbows, hands,
fingers, legs, knees, ankles, feet, toes and so
on and so forth.

SPECIAL ABILITIES:
Singing, Dancing, Directing, Producing, Writing,
Starring, and Being Famous.


What Muppet are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

Mood: Happily weepy - except that I come home and its the usual ARGHishness - Dad not knowing I was out, Peter nervously running in and out of the bathroom afraid that I'll eat him or some such for venturing downstairs, Johnny being home and DESPITE the very obvious sounds of my music emenating from my room sits down and plays chords on the piano, Julie wanting me to come upstairs to make sure the skirt she's making for PoP fits right.... GAAAAAAH! Go AWAY! I was doing very well, being all joyful and coming up with great ideas for restructuring Galatea (see below) and..................!
Music: The Last Samurai battling with Johnny's inconsideration
Dialogue for Galatea: G: (Leaning in to Paul) But life IS art?
P: (Agonizingly gentle) True, but art is not alive.
Galatea pauses for a moment, her eyes flit left and right. Then, bending her lips to Paul's ear, she whispers...
G: But I can MAKE it live.

O Captain, My Captain!

I cannot fully express the dread that comes over me in realising that the rumour is indeed true: Fr. Larry is retiring. I ought not be surprised - he is old, he is ailing, he well deserves time away from bills and heating buildings but.... Perhaps this is what my students feel when they know their grandfather is dying. But it is more than simply the loss of a grandfather, this is a loss to the entire community, a loss of a pastor, a loss of one who will guide us and direct us and urge us always to pray, pray, pray. This is the loss of one's confessor - to whom, now, shall I go? This is the lost of a solid homilist - although he always said otherwise - shall I seek out another parish then? What saddens me more is that I do not know if we have the immediate vocations to fill his place. St. Mary's will be merging with St. Ann's - a fitting conjunction in more than name - except that.... Weeeeeell, not every priest is QUITE the priest that Fr. Larry is. So, as the priest told my parents back in Jersey when they appealed to him re: our Ye Olde Hyreticalle Pariyfh, "Travel."

Lord, bless and keep Father Larry. Lord, please send us more vocations, or rather help us to hear those vocations You send and to respond to them. Lord, please stir a fire in our hearts. Lord, please draw us back to You and fill Your church to overflowing once again. Lord, keep our priests strong. Lord, pastor the shepherds, teach them Your ways, never let them stray from You. Lord, You know all things, You are the master of all things, and thus Your will and not my piddling insecurities be done. Please keep Archbishop Sean O'Malley close to You, infuse Him with Your Wisdom, the Holy Spirit, that he might make good decisions for us, that he might continue to do Your will. Mother Mary, be with him, intercede for him to Your Son, please wrap your mantle around us all - particularly those of the parish who honours you, Mother of Our Saviour. St. Anne, please keep us in your prayers. Nag your daughter to nag her Son, nag your Grandson on behalf of His priests! And St. John the Baptist, who had such a fire in his heart, who feared nothing - not even death at the hands of Herod - please, teach us how to be "voices in the desert, crying, 'Prepare the way of the Lord!'" Let us not be cowardly. Amen.

And may the Lord bless and keep us, ever in His Sacred Heart. Jesus, I trust in Thee.

Mood: Tristesse
Music: Pipes shuffling water
Thought: And now to making midterms....

Dear as the vital warmth that feeds my life;
Dear as these eyes, that weep in fondness o’er thee.

~ Thomas Otway, Venice Preserved, Act v. Sc. 1.

Things which are good:

1) Sister, mother, father and brother who take care of those who are sick a-bed and weeping;

2) Sister who will drive one to and fro and round about to Friday's;

3) The purchase of Hans Zimmer's The Last Samurai, and James Newton Howard's Peter Pan;

4) Warmth, warmth, ah blessed warmth!

5) Sleeping, propped on pillows;

6) Free fish in my belly, or at least costly French Onion Soup in me belly, with a side of Caesar Salad;

7) The purchase of a deep purple shirt which strikingly matches my crimson tresses.

Things which are nicht so gut:

1) Legs which are killing one to the point of making walking down stairs a gimpy experience;

2) Lack of time, lack of time, lack of time;

3) Concern for weight;

4) Concern for Fr. Larry and possible imminent retirement which would change things around quite a bit and not necessarily to the better;

5) Coldness outside, not felt since the late 1800's.

But mostly good. Mostly contented. Mostly happiness and peacefulness, warrented or not. And now to do something about my e-mail.

Mood: Pax, Domina
Music: The Last Samurai - very Zimmer
Wish: For the running of the bulls a la Julie, a car, and a megaphone.

Mal de sinuses

I determined that I have finally succumbed to the winter chill as of last night during the double rehearsal. The clincher was that I felt no guilt whatsoever about calling into work sick last NIGHT, rather than waiting to see if I'd be better in the morning. Always a good test, that - the conscience. Saw Alex and Emma, fell asleep on the couch, woke to go downstairs and fall asleep where I'm meant to sleep, wokeup around 11, early enough to ask for tea and cheerios, fell asleep around 11:30, woke again at 12:30 for breakfast from a wonderful family, read until 1:30, managed to pull myself together to meander around until 3:00 at which time I managed to get myself THINKING before the computer to set down in blocking form mode the info for the first three songs of Pirates, and am currently on the last one. Will then print out, copy off, get myself looking less miserable, and bustle down to rehearsal where I will rehearse, come back, collapse, and wake up to find out if my body is going to make any of its Saturday appointments. Oh, and I'll make up exams this weekend. The Rude Mechanicals rehearsal was AMAZING, yesterdays was good but the actors who play the fairy courts have yet to "click" - will have to do something bonding together with them - something utterly silly. Julie ratified my concerns re: the PM in PoP. HA! I say. And now really must finish "Oh, Better Far to Live and Die" - have pared down a LOT...this is good...it is perfectly acceptable...it will work better anywho, I think...hope...yeah.

Mood: My left leg hurts for some reason. May be all the kicking, kneeling, lying and kicking, standing and crouching I did yesterday when blocking the Fairies' entrance....
Music: Had been Enya for the longest, was ROTK once, and over that has been the mental jutebox of PoP.
Thought: I imagine it would be far easier to be IN a play than direct it...or to be IN one play and directing another? Am envying my actors. LOL!
Aaaand... YES! To my right is a PIRATE! (Go see the new Peter Pan.)

I'm not dead yet!

Voila, j'ai la vie toujours, en dépit de plus de la theatre, l'ecole, et moins de sommeil - je vis. Et maintenaint, bien que je prefere ecrire ma romaine fantastique, je dur dormir. Bon nuit, tout les mondes et ma cheres! Demain, theatre, theatre, theatre...et peut-être le conversation avec un homme...ou peut-être seulement j'ecrirai. Chaque avez les advantages. Quoi qu'il arrive, arrive. Oui, plus des "randominity" - encors!

Mood: Fière de ma francais!
Music: Josh Groban's latest
Wish: Time time time

C'est moi

Quelque temps, je deteste la technologie progressif. Ha ha ha, hon hon hon. Whilst waiting to see whether the printer had printed - as it promised - its best, I was working on this hilarious picture of Smeagol, a stack of cookies, and Gollum, which would have been subtitled with something awfully clever. But, once again, my computer crashed thanks to Adobe Photoshop, and so I went to check the printing and found that BEST came out WORST and so am reprinting, and will only post this:



Mood: You don't HAVE any friends
Music: Not listening
Thought: Go away and NEVER come back! *huff huff*

No, sir, we don't want the chocolate,
We want the veggies (really)

Ha! No, we want the chocolate - but the veggies were quite good. And it helps that the chocolate got somehow messed up with heaping teaspoons of baking soda apparently and a lack of brown sugar - and the trail mix is an interesting idea but give me good old chips. So the urge to chow down is therefore alleviated. And despite complaining about a lack of lettuce, the salad was really quite good. (We want the salad; the salad is our friend. [Why is it that Smeagol keeps popping up his head everytime I do one of these parentheticals? "Why does she cry, Smeagol? Mean cookies hurt us! We must hurt cookies back and EAT THEM! No *whimper* no, the salad is our FRIEND!" LOTR: brought to you by every day life.])

The grand scheme I had to print on the uberduber Epson upstairs has been thwarted by the paleolithic computer that can't read neat-o font files, even when I finally figure out how to share them with senile upstairs computer. So we are printing on the ancient HP (the good thing about HP's is that they DO last...) with all the "best" options chosen, hoping against all hope that it'll work better this time and all the .jpg's will be read easily by said upgraded dot-matrix.

In other news, am making progress on last bit for tomorrow's mail, Mum has agreed to send out said mail (laughing as she remembers doing similar in HS when I would send away short stories with return postage for a rejection slip), and my brain is still wondering about the dances. I keep having to tell myself that REALLY, I can keep them still for periods of time - that's not a crime. They'll still be moving more than usual! Hrumph.... Please God, let me have my study and my free tomorrow! Were they taken away, Things Will Be Messy Indeed. Completely stressed. Wigging out at the least little unexpected noise. It's a good thing I've a largish space to myself so that I can kick-box in aesthetic rhythm to heavy-metal-lite Evanescence. Am going to do so for a moment again before putting on Pirates and listening for hours to "Climbing Over Rocky Mountains" and other prattle....

Mood: Going off the deep end - wheeeeee!
Music: My Tourniquet by Evanescence - fitting.
Thought: So THIS is what a decapitated chicken looks like. Fascinating.

T minus 17 hours and counting
(Valkyrieeee! Valkyraaaaa!)

So much to do, so little time! Just a brief blog to say: "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUGH!" And...

1) Going out with Mums and Jules to Applebees to simply BE is a very good thing;

2) Even better is a group hug with Julie morphed into Harpo Marx;

3) The coffeehouse was faboo with Living Waters (slobber over the lights - mine, precious, mine!), even if

4) I realized that I had just stepped into another chapter of Emily's Regency Life (see Round Table);

5) I felt ill last night. I feel less ill at the moment. I hope I do not feel ill tomorrow. Why can't it snow out school? Poot.

So, there we are. And despite having potential issues re: who's who in the cast for Pirates, I should be good with all that. Must finish up work ends. GAH! *whimper* I may paint my nails late tonight as a shield against the world. That sounds so utterly vain, but sometimes seeing something in careful laquered order makes one think: ah, see, here is one bit that is well done. Here is one thing in order - ten shields in rounded row. Hence, other larger more important items may be similarly arranged within one's life. It's why Brunhilda would take the trouble to buff her armour and braid her hair before rushing forth into the fray. (The world is too much with us? Hardly. Who is that anyway? Uncle Walty? Silly notion - but sometimes it feels that the world is to much WITH [aka alongside, upon] me. La la la.) Das ist kein Mann!

Mood: Slumph
Music: Evanescence - better metabolism through boom bass
Thought: I'd forgotten how much I like organic chemistry. And my father is a theoretical science genius. Must sit down and learn about his theory of the "Little Rift." I wonder if he could publish a paper about it or something. Lord, be with him, amen!
Music That Isn't Playing But Should Be: Ho-to-yo-ho! Kiww da wabbit!

Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens,

Bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens,
Brown paper packages tied up with strings -
These are a few of my favourite things!

Dying deep crimson one's shoulder-length tresses,***
Ogling over Julie's deep green dresses,
At seven this morning MS finishing -
These are a few of my favourite things!

Visiting friends over sweet-teas and suppers,
Pouring White Zinfandel into my cupper,
Families who let crazy kids still sleep in -
These are a few of my favourite things!

End vacation, start directing,
(Grading drives me mad),
But I'll simply think of my favourite things
And then I won't feel so bad!

***The picture to the right is not of me now, although the colour is about right. And yes, that was my natural hair colour the summer of 2000 when I went to *sigh* England. When the sun hits it right, I am very Irish. Otherwise, I am apparently every and any European you feel like throwing at me, since most every person I met - with perhaps the exception of those in Italy, presumed I was native. Hmmm....

Or, if you prefer the Lenten Bellwether variation:

Fasting, abstaining, Lenten sacrifices,
Self-mortification is really the nicest.
And in Bellwether there's Lenten lemmings -
These are a few of our favourite things!

Holy Thursday, then Good Friday,
Holy Saturday's here!
The best thing about Lent is:
It comes only once a year!

And now off to do the final final final proof of TSV. *sigh* *creak* *moan*

Mood: Chipper, faaabulous.
Music: Enya, once I press the play button again
What made my day: GORGEOUS sanguined tresses, courtesy of two tries at dying it, the first attempt of which left my front very red and my back nothing, the second of which deepend and evened - hurrah! I am now one very clean girl. It is good to indulge sometimes. Also good were visits from Sharon and the arrival of the latest Entertaiment Weekly (although the latter runs a very distant second).
What ruined my day: A toss-up between Life With Bonnie being ousted in favour of football and being dimwitted enough to stay up writing for TWELVE HOURS, from 6 p.m. to 6 a.m. Well, at least I finished for the nonce. This is going to be one heap big novel. Not impossible, though. And I'd forgotten what fun it is to use dramatic narrative irony. Tee hee hee! "Your language reveals you, sir." Hmmm, this isn't really ruining my day, is it.
Upcoming: Plays plays plays, to paraphrase Hamlet. *sigh* Oof, my back hurts already. Lord, I'd be soooo grateful if tomorrow's work day could help get my metabolism up again? Danke.

Immaculate Heart of Mary, Pray for Us!

When one is utterly stuck and despondant over such trifles such as, "What is a better more French-y word for 'gazeebo'? Portico? Rotunda? Aaaaugh! Terrace? Veranda? Halp!" there is nothing much more soothing than changing one's desktop wallpaper to The Madonna of the Streets, putting the Memorarae over that, praying the Divine Mercy Chaplet and then looking at William Bougereau oil paintings of Our Lady and the Christ child, such as L'innocence (pictured right), whilst playing soothing Enya, much needed after an evening of Strauss waltzes and Baroque fugues. I am flushed, I am stressed, I needed to pray.

And I remember, that I am not the greatest among women, and I am much relieved. I remember that my work is nothing in comparison with the Child that Mary bore. The sacrifice of my time is not my redemption, but my Savior's Crucifixion is. Mary, Mother of God, please pray for me, please intercede on my behalf to your Son, who nestles close to your Immaculate Heart. Please bear me as you bore Him. Please comfort me as you comforted Him. Please teach me how to be like you, so that I might serve your Son, my God, perfectly as you serve Him. Amen.

Mood: Fading fustre
Music: Enya, A Day Without Rain
Thought: Wow...my life is so suffused with music.

Young Girls are All Secrets

"Free fish in me belly!"
"The universe is a vast trust."
"Kill her with yesterday's poisoned needles."
"Live like eternity lingers."

Just some gems from the magnetic poetry (better poetry through refridgeration!) I got Dad for his birthday last April. Anywho, I have spent this past, what, two hours...TWO HOURS!?! augh!...drawing up a side-view of the Palais Juste so that I can write Giselle's account. I know I need to figure out a bit more about the Palais proper as well, nor is the side-view completely accurate whatsoever. Which is why I have the overhead view as well. But it does for now. And it SO helps to actually draw the architecture out, and so go, "Ah-HA! It's not just a neat statue, it's a support structure for the bridge, AND a LAMP!" Everything one creates in fantasy ought to have a practical application. Thus quoth Zarthrustra. Most everything we create in real life - with the exception of bric-a-brac naturally - has some purpose. Well, even bric-a-brac is decorative. But you can't have an ENTIRELY decorative society. It simply doesn't work. I had some cool thoughts this morning which are once again eluding me. Instead, I shall post my very cobbled-together-for-my-sanity collage of what the basic side view of the Palais Juste (originally the Vieux Lu) looks like. Kinda. (I.e., "Evening Mood"-ish type goddess would be on the opposite side of the bridge, there'd be all Thirteen Laughing Ones, the palace would be more defined - we're just seeing the curving around near the front, all wrong proportions, and the lower rooms behind wouldn't look like part of the palace. Not that you wanted to know that.) Whoopee! (Click on the image to enlarge it.)



Mood: Man, I'd like to live in the Palais Juste....
Music: Pride & Prejudice - "Light, bright and sparkling."
Thought: I am such a kinetic learner.