Monday, October 27, 2003
Monsters
I ordered a very cheap laptop off e-bay. It may turn out to be a disaster because the laptop may not work or may not be usable or may not have all the necessary parts. I'm quite afraid. But, if it works, I will be very happy because I will be able to take part in the National Novel Writers' Month (nanowrimo.org), which I heard about while reading about somebody else's writer's block on the Internet.
I've already started to think about themes & characters for the novel, but I probably shoudl not mention any specifics here since the mentioning may interfere with my writing. I will say, though, that I'm very excited about this project.
The idea of the project is to get as much writing down as is humanly possible in a very short time so that the writers have a rough draft finished by the end of the month. It may turn out to be completely incoherent, and I may have to spend 5 years revising it (or I may want to throw the whole thing away at the end), but that is sort of part of the beauty of the thing.
Right now, I know my main character will be a male & that the story will somehow deal with obsession. I'm thinking that he may be obsessed with a stranger or someone he knows but doesn't know well. So, as I ride the subway or talk to people, I take notes. I try to notice things. I listen to conversations. It will be fun to write a "male."
On a different note, I feel very odd and depressed lately. I've noticed that I'm having a hard time getting along with people or even wanting to be around people, especially when people are so happy. I remember when this first happened, a friend of mine asked me if I wanted to come stay with her in North Carolina to get away from it all for awhile. I didn't think I'd want to do such a thing, but now I understand. It would be nice to just get to rest for, like, a month or two. I'd like to not have to be around people (especially people who seem to have forgotten that my brother died almost a year ago -- something that makes me very angry!) & try to act "normal" with the holidays coming up & everything. I'd like to be able to take long, quiet walks & breathe. I'd like to be free from stress & pressure, even knowing that stress can be good for moving life along.
I'm afraid that I've aged a lot in this past year. I wonder if that's true, if the toll this has taken is physical. The thing is, it's difficult to write about it. It's slow. Maybe I'll write my "novel" about it (although I'd sort of hoped to avoid that, it may be all that's there to write about).
For the one year memorial, we're going to have an open house at my father's house. My brother's friends will be there. My sister is flying down. We'll just have people over & try to be as comforted as we can be just by being together. Right now, though, it's getting tougher all the time. Hopefully, focusing on writing will help.
--m
|
I ordered a very cheap laptop off e-bay. It may turn out to be a disaster because the laptop may not work or may not be usable or may not have all the necessary parts. I'm quite afraid. But, if it works, I will be very happy because I will be able to take part in the National Novel Writers' Month (nanowrimo.org), which I heard about while reading about somebody else's writer's block on the Internet.
I've already started to think about themes & characters for the novel, but I probably shoudl not mention any specifics here since the mentioning may interfere with my writing. I will say, though, that I'm very excited about this project.
The idea of the project is to get as much writing down as is humanly possible in a very short time so that the writers have a rough draft finished by the end of the month. It may turn out to be completely incoherent, and I may have to spend 5 years revising it (or I may want to throw the whole thing away at the end), but that is sort of part of the beauty of the thing.
Right now, I know my main character will be a male & that the story will somehow deal with obsession. I'm thinking that he may be obsessed with a stranger or someone he knows but doesn't know well. So, as I ride the subway or talk to people, I take notes. I try to notice things. I listen to conversations. It will be fun to write a "male."
On a different note, I feel very odd and depressed lately. I've noticed that I'm having a hard time getting along with people or even wanting to be around people, especially when people are so happy. I remember when this first happened, a friend of mine asked me if I wanted to come stay with her in North Carolina to get away from it all for awhile. I didn't think I'd want to do such a thing, but now I understand. It would be nice to just get to rest for, like, a month or two. I'd like to not have to be around people (especially people who seem to have forgotten that my brother died almost a year ago -- something that makes me very angry!) & try to act "normal" with the holidays coming up & everything. I'd like to be able to take long, quiet walks & breathe. I'd like to be free from stress & pressure, even knowing that stress can be good for moving life along.
I'm afraid that I've aged a lot in this past year. I wonder if that's true, if the toll this has taken is physical. The thing is, it's difficult to write about it. It's slow. Maybe I'll write my "novel" about it (although I'd sort of hoped to avoid that, it may be all that's there to write about).
For the one year memorial, we're going to have an open house at my father's house. My brother's friends will be there. My sister is flying down. We'll just have people over & try to be as comforted as we can be just by being together. Right now, though, it's getting tougher all the time. Hopefully, focusing on writing will help.
--m
Friday, October 24, 2003
A Good Fight
It's been way too long since I've had a good fight, a raging, screaming battle. I can't remember the last time I really let someone have it. I can't even remember the last time I yelled at someone.
Of course, the best fights can only be had with someone you really care deeply about, someone you know & love so deeply & take so for granted (like a sibling or a parent) that you can say anything to them, bring out your biggest weapon, let out your rage, your truest, deepest fury.
I'm sure everyone out there (all my readers -- ha ha) have heard that, in general, women cry more easily than men and men are angrier more easily than women. Is this true, and if so, does it mean that men should cry more to compensate & women, similarly, should fight more? I don't really know, and I don't really care.
I just know that I want to get into the ring with someone soon. I want to throw a punch, verbal or physical. I want to burn something. I want to yell at someone. I want to tell someone I love, like I told my sister so many times when we were kids, that I HATE THEM. I want to use my voice, my body, my eyes, my hands, even my nose to even the score.
I want to be Rocky. I want to be the Karate Kid. I want to be a puppy wrestling. I want to be a cat pouncing at a mouse -- or, better yet, a lion pouncing at another lion, an alligator fighting for some territory.
But, I'll probably end up either belting out a show tune or swinging a bat to get out this energy because I really have no one to fight with right now.
--m
|
It's been way too long since I've had a good fight, a raging, screaming battle. I can't remember the last time I really let someone have it. I can't even remember the last time I yelled at someone.
Of course, the best fights can only be had with someone you really care deeply about, someone you know & love so deeply & take so for granted (like a sibling or a parent) that you can say anything to them, bring out your biggest weapon, let out your rage, your truest, deepest fury.
I'm sure everyone out there (all my readers -- ha ha) have heard that, in general, women cry more easily than men and men are angrier more easily than women. Is this true, and if so, does it mean that men should cry more to compensate & women, similarly, should fight more? I don't really know, and I don't really care.
I just know that I want to get into the ring with someone soon. I want to throw a punch, verbal or physical. I want to burn something. I want to yell at someone. I want to tell someone I love, like I told my sister so many times when we were kids, that I HATE THEM. I want to use my voice, my body, my eyes, my hands, even my nose to even the score.
I want to be Rocky. I want to be the Karate Kid. I want to be a puppy wrestling. I want to be a cat pouncing at a mouse -- or, better yet, a lion pouncing at another lion, an alligator fighting for some territory.
But, I'll probably end up either belting out a show tune or swinging a bat to get out this energy because I really have no one to fight with right now.
--m
Friday, October 17, 2003
Tiffany
I have a crush on someone from work. I was somewhat distraught about this. I love Joe, and I understand that it's normal to have occasional crushes on people who are not your significant other, but I still find the idea of having this crush a little scary. He speaks Italian, and he's very smart. What does it mean?
Last night, I called my friend Tiffany to "confess." Tiffany's reaction: "That's great! Cool! I love work crushes! Have fun with it!"
I felt instantly better.
Tiffany has a son, Alexander, who is in second grade. I remember sitting in the car with him once when she ran into the store to buy something. We were talking about different planets, and I told him that Mars is called the "red planet." Months later, on a whim, we asked Alex which planet is the red planet, and he said, "Marrrrs." We went nuts because he was only 3 & we didn't expect him to remember something like that.
Ahhhhhh...Tiffany. I met her at the Hippodrome when we both worked in the box office, but we didn't really become friends until she no longer worked there. Once, I babysat Alex while she went out on a date. We sat on her porch before she left for the date & smoked cigarettes by candlelight. She looked very pretty all dressed up with her curly hair & there was something charming about her being nervous about her date. I've known two men Tiffany has dated, and neither of them has been worthy of her charm, her humor, her spark.
Last night, she told me she's looking for a job & has been looking for 3 months (!!!). She's applied everywhere in Austin, TX -- even McDonald's (but they would never hire her because she's so overqualified). She said there are 50 people applying for each position, and they sometimes have "cattle call" interviews where 10 people sit in a room & get interviewed together or where everyone stands in line & hands in his or her resume & has to answer one or two questions. "We'll call you if you have the position," they say. Why don't they just have the applicants do a 2 minute monologue or read from sides or learn a dance combination?
So, Tiffany told me that she volunteered to reorganize the books in Alex's second grade classroom because she thought it would be fun & because the teacher hasn't had time. She figured it would take about 15 minutes, but she spent 3 hours organizing. She looked through all the books, re-read some of them, put them into a logical order. And, she said she found this book she read and remembered when she was 7, but she never knew the title. The book has a scene in which one child bites another child's cheek because she (or he?) thinks it looks delicious.
Tiffany, if you read this, e-mail me the title of the book.
--m
|
I have a crush on someone from work. I was somewhat distraught about this. I love Joe, and I understand that it's normal to have occasional crushes on people who are not your significant other, but I still find the idea of having this crush a little scary. He speaks Italian, and he's very smart. What does it mean?
Last night, I called my friend Tiffany to "confess." Tiffany's reaction: "That's great! Cool! I love work crushes! Have fun with it!"
I felt instantly better.
Tiffany has a son, Alexander, who is in second grade. I remember sitting in the car with him once when she ran into the store to buy something. We were talking about different planets, and I told him that Mars is called the "red planet." Months later, on a whim, we asked Alex which planet is the red planet, and he said, "Marrrrs." We went nuts because he was only 3 & we didn't expect him to remember something like that.
Ahhhhhh...Tiffany. I met her at the Hippodrome when we both worked in the box office, but we didn't really become friends until she no longer worked there. Once, I babysat Alex while she went out on a date. We sat on her porch before she left for the date & smoked cigarettes by candlelight. She looked very pretty all dressed up with her curly hair & there was something charming about her being nervous about her date. I've known two men Tiffany has dated, and neither of them has been worthy of her charm, her humor, her spark.
Last night, she told me she's looking for a job & has been looking for 3 months (!!!). She's applied everywhere in Austin, TX -- even McDonald's (but they would never hire her because she's so overqualified). She said there are 50 people applying for each position, and they sometimes have "cattle call" interviews where 10 people sit in a room & get interviewed together or where everyone stands in line & hands in his or her resume & has to answer one or two questions. "We'll call you if you have the position," they say. Why don't they just have the applicants do a 2 minute monologue or read from sides or learn a dance combination?
So, Tiffany told me that she volunteered to reorganize the books in Alex's second grade classroom because she thought it would be fun & because the teacher hasn't had time. She figured it would take about 15 minutes, but she spent 3 hours organizing. She looked through all the books, re-read some of them, put them into a logical order. And, she said she found this book she read and remembered when she was 7, but she never knew the title. The book has a scene in which one child bites another child's cheek because she (or he?) thinks it looks delicious.
Tiffany, if you read this, e-mail me the title of the book.
--m
Friday, October 10, 2003
Update
So, I didn't quit. I talked to Erin about my work schedule & about wigging out about conflicts, etc., and she told me to think about it over the weekend & she & Katherine would also think about their options & we'll talk about it on Sunday.
I'm definitely not going to be as involved as I'd hoped, but I feel much better having talked to Erin about my level of stress & about my level of involvement. Being there at rehearsals while knowing I wasn't fully committed made me feel detached from the project. And, I've never felt detached from a theater project. Even the lamest, stupidest, most frustrating theater projects always get my full attention.
Why? Because theater infuses me with life.
I know that sounds like the cheesiest thing anyone's ever written & if anyone reads this, it's probably the stupidest thing you've ever read. And, your opinion of me is spoiled, etc. But, I don't care.
So, I'm having a difficult time right now. The time of year has hit me. Fall. I hate fall. And, I used to love fall. Fall was ALWAYS my favorite season. But, now, the weather has changed, and that just reminds me of what's to come. And, it reminds me of what has happened. And, it drives me crazy.
Has it almost been a YEAR? Is that possible? Is it really true, then? Seriously, I think about it & I think that I feel like if a year can pass, then it's really true that my brother died.
I feel very weird writing about "that topic" here because it's so personal & it's...I don't know how to explain. I feel like I'm making something very personal public by writing about it here. At the same time, that was kind of the point of having this--so that I can share what's on my mind. I have mixed feelings about it.
In The NewYorker this month, there's an article about the Golden Gate Bridge and all the suicides on that bridge since it opened & how the government won't build a guard rail because of several excuses that the writer of the article refutes. I read the article on the subway on Tuesday night on the way to meet Joe for dinner & by the time I saw him, I was INFURIATED by the whole thing, especially because the article said there was a follow-up study done & something like 90% of the people who were prevented from jumping were still alive 25 years later. It said that the crisis of suicide is usually about 3 months and if a person gets through those critical 3 months, he or she has a very good chance of never trying it again or of finding other options.
I don't know. San Francisco is not my city, but I want to write a letter to the government there to tell them to build the rail. And, I'm going to research bridges in New York to see if there are any suicides on our bridges (how many?) & to see if I can write to see if they can be prevented.
I think the problem--one of the problems--with dealing with this kind of thing is you feel so powerless. And, the whole thing is so stupid. And, it was such a mistake.
Now, I feel uncomfortable about this entire entry. But, I'm going to leave it up just to see how I feel about it later.
--m
|
So, I didn't quit. I talked to Erin about my work schedule & about wigging out about conflicts, etc., and she told me to think about it over the weekend & she & Katherine would also think about their options & we'll talk about it on Sunday.
I'm definitely not going to be as involved as I'd hoped, but I feel much better having talked to Erin about my level of stress & about my level of involvement. Being there at rehearsals while knowing I wasn't fully committed made me feel detached from the project. And, I've never felt detached from a theater project. Even the lamest, stupidest, most frustrating theater projects always get my full attention.
Why? Because theater infuses me with life.
I know that sounds like the cheesiest thing anyone's ever written & if anyone reads this, it's probably the stupidest thing you've ever read. And, your opinion of me is spoiled, etc. But, I don't care.
So, I'm having a difficult time right now. The time of year has hit me. Fall. I hate fall. And, I used to love fall. Fall was ALWAYS my favorite season. But, now, the weather has changed, and that just reminds me of what's to come. And, it reminds me of what has happened. And, it drives me crazy.
Has it almost been a YEAR? Is that possible? Is it really true, then? Seriously, I think about it & I think that I feel like if a year can pass, then it's really true that my brother died.
I feel very weird writing about "that topic" here because it's so personal & it's...I don't know how to explain. I feel like I'm making something very personal public by writing about it here. At the same time, that was kind of the point of having this--so that I can share what's on my mind. I have mixed feelings about it.
In The NewYorker this month, there's an article about the Golden Gate Bridge and all the suicides on that bridge since it opened & how the government won't build a guard rail because of several excuses that the writer of the article refutes. I read the article on the subway on Tuesday night on the way to meet Joe for dinner & by the time I saw him, I was INFURIATED by the whole thing, especially because the article said there was a follow-up study done & something like 90% of the people who were prevented from jumping were still alive 25 years later. It said that the crisis of suicide is usually about 3 months and if a person gets through those critical 3 months, he or she has a very good chance of never trying it again or of finding other options.
I don't know. San Francisco is not my city, but I want to write a letter to the government there to tell them to build the rail. And, I'm going to research bridges in New York to see if there are any suicides on our bridges (how many?) & to see if I can write to see if they can be prevented.
I think the problem--one of the problems--with dealing with this kind of thing is you feel so powerless. And, the whole thing is so stupid. And, it was such a mistake.
Now, I feel uncomfortable about this entire entry. But, I'm going to leave it up just to see how I feel about it later.
--m
Thursday, October 09, 2003
Quits
So, after just two rehearsals, I have realized I am going to have to quit the play. This is a very big deal for me because I've never quit a play or any creative project involving others before.
But, my heart is not in it.
And, I am so stressed right now because of work & the upcoming holidays & the upcoming one year anniversary, which I've really started to feel.
Plus, my mother is coming to visit me for a week in November.
And, rehearsals are 5 days a week.
I love the people in the play, and I love the director, but I am going to have to quit. Tonight, we have rehearsal at 7:00 & I'm going to either meet with the director beforehand or talk to her after.
I feel terrible about this.
--m
|
So, after just two rehearsals, I have realized I am going to have to quit the play. This is a very big deal for me because I've never quit a play or any creative project involving others before.
But, my heart is not in it.
And, I am so stressed right now because of work & the upcoming holidays & the upcoming one year anniversary, which I've really started to feel.
Plus, my mother is coming to visit me for a week in November.
And, rehearsals are 5 days a week.
I love the people in the play, and I love the director, but I am going to have to quit. Tonight, we have rehearsal at 7:00 & I'm going to either meet with the director beforehand or talk to her after.
I feel terrible about this.
--m
Tuesday, October 07, 2003
It's Like Taking a Movement Class
Last night, we had the first real rehearsal for the new play, which will be a theater piece about masculinity & femininity developed through improv, using Viewpoints (Anne Bogart), which I know very little about. The cast, which was 8, is down to 6: Nikki, Ben, Seku, Alex, Joey, and Katherine. I will see these people, plus the director, Erin, five days a week for the next 3 months. Weird.
Erin asked me to bring clothes to move in last night, so I wore my one & only pair of cool workout pants & my favorite tee, which says "DANCE" in sparkly letters across the front. We started out by stretching on our own, and then we played "slow motion tag," which was a lot more fun than regular tag as I remember it from when I was a kid because I always had trouble catching someone in regular tag, but it's easier in slow motion. It's actually easier both to never be tagged & to tag someone, & it's more fun when you're tagged.
Then, we played with time by walking on a grid at different tempos, 0 being stillness, 1 being almost stillness, and 5 being as fast as humanly & safely possible. We also played with the length of time we kept each tempo & with how other people affected our desire to change tempo. For instance, if you are almost completely still and someone comes racing past you & just barely misses you, you may have a desire to speed up. Or, you may keep a certain tempo longer than it's comfortable.
We then took different shapes with our bodies as individuals & then as a group, using the entire space, interacting with one another, using different levels (the floor, standing level, and even climbing). Then, we had to do gestures & expressions. A gesture would be a position found in normal life & an expression is a blown-up version of that same gesture, perhaps of the emotion behind that gesture.
Then, we did Alexander Technique massages. Then, we talked about what we got out of it as a group.
I have no idea how my participation in these activities makes me an assistant director or a stage manager (except for Nikki talking to me about scheduling conflicts after rehearsal), but I certainly do feel like I bonded with the group. Today, I'm so sore I can barely walk.
--m
|
Last night, we had the first real rehearsal for the new play, which will be a theater piece about masculinity & femininity developed through improv, using Viewpoints (Anne Bogart), which I know very little about. The cast, which was 8, is down to 6: Nikki, Ben, Seku, Alex, Joey, and Katherine. I will see these people, plus the director, Erin, five days a week for the next 3 months. Weird.
Erin asked me to bring clothes to move in last night, so I wore my one & only pair of cool workout pants & my favorite tee, which says "DANCE" in sparkly letters across the front. We started out by stretching on our own, and then we played "slow motion tag," which was a lot more fun than regular tag as I remember it from when I was a kid because I always had trouble catching someone in regular tag, but it's easier in slow motion. It's actually easier both to never be tagged & to tag someone, & it's more fun when you're tagged.
Then, we played with time by walking on a grid at different tempos, 0 being stillness, 1 being almost stillness, and 5 being as fast as humanly & safely possible. We also played with the length of time we kept each tempo & with how other people affected our desire to change tempo. For instance, if you are almost completely still and someone comes racing past you & just barely misses you, you may have a desire to speed up. Or, you may keep a certain tempo longer than it's comfortable.
We then took different shapes with our bodies as individuals & then as a group, using the entire space, interacting with one another, using different levels (the floor, standing level, and even climbing). Then, we had to do gestures & expressions. A gesture would be a position found in normal life & an expression is a blown-up version of that same gesture, perhaps of the emotion behind that gesture.
Then, we did Alexander Technique massages. Then, we talked about what we got out of it as a group.
I have no idea how my participation in these activities makes me an assistant director or a stage manager (except for Nikki talking to me about scheduling conflicts after rehearsal), but I certainly do feel like I bonded with the group. Today, I'm so sore I can barely walk.
--m
Friday, October 03, 2003
The Charm of the Earnest
Right now at work, I'm working on this computer project, so I'm in this conference room with about 6 other people most of the day. It's the kind of thing that lends itself easily to satire because we have all the doors closed & all these computers set up on the conference table & we have scheduled times to go down to different rooms & almost all communication/instruction from "above" comes by e-mail.
Anyway, today one woman was sent to another room on another floor and this guy Fady was transferred into our room to sit at her place.
The boys in Room 26 (where I am "stationed") are all around 25 years old, and they are a lot of fun, though mischievous & sometimes annoying. Today, someone sent an e-mail with a joke on the bottom, and this guy Alex read it out loud: "Why was Jesus born in a stable?"
After a pause, Fady answered, "I don't know. It has something to do with modesty." And then, Alex said the punchline: "Because Joseph was on an HMO." (Very lame joke.) I then heard Fady say, kind of softly, "Oh. It has nothing to do with that at all." And, right there, I felt like I really, really liked him. I love people who are too serious sometimes, people whose awkwardness comes from taking things to heart that people are not "supposed to" take to heart.
I have worked very hard to become "lighter," and I wonder sometimes if this journal, for example, is too serious, if I'm too serious in general. There's a part of me that loves people who are too serious, though.
Cheers to Fady for thinking the question through & for not knowing he shouldn't have thought it through.
I understand.
--m
|
Right now at work, I'm working on this computer project, so I'm in this conference room with about 6 other people most of the day. It's the kind of thing that lends itself easily to satire because we have all the doors closed & all these computers set up on the conference table & we have scheduled times to go down to different rooms & almost all communication/instruction from "above" comes by e-mail.
Anyway, today one woman was sent to another room on another floor and this guy Fady was transferred into our room to sit at her place.
The boys in Room 26 (where I am "stationed") are all around 25 years old, and they are a lot of fun, though mischievous & sometimes annoying. Today, someone sent an e-mail with a joke on the bottom, and this guy Alex read it out loud: "Why was Jesus born in a stable?"
After a pause, Fady answered, "I don't know. It has something to do with modesty." And then, Alex said the punchline: "Because Joseph was on an HMO." (Very lame joke.) I then heard Fady say, kind of softly, "Oh. It has nothing to do with that at all." And, right there, I felt like I really, really liked him. I love people who are too serious sometimes, people whose awkwardness comes from taking things to heart that people are not "supposed to" take to heart.
I have worked very hard to become "lighter," and I wonder sometimes if this journal, for example, is too serious, if I'm too serious in general. There's a part of me that loves people who are too serious, though.
Cheers to Fady for thinking the question through & for not knowing he shouldn't have thought it through.
I understand.
--m
