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December 31, 2004
BOISE...STATE...BOISE...STATE...BOISE...STATE
Well, we didn't win, but we stayed in the game. To the tune of leading in quarters 2, 3 and 4 (up til the last 5 minutes or so). So a big old pthpthpthpthbbbb to all of those people who said BSU didn't deserve to be in the top ten.
In other news, I have found the most amazing sidewalk de-icer ever. It's fast, it's effective, it's non-toxic, it's biodegradable and it not only doesn't burn your lawn like salt and some of the other de-icers, it fertilizes it instead. It's alfalfa meal.
Yeah, that's right, ground alfalfa. I know. I didn't believe it either, but I read about it in The Organic Suburbanite. It was really hard to find the stuff, though, and I live in a rural community. People kept trying to sell me pellets, as if I were trying to feed sheep or horses. But Whitney Farms offers it on their website and I found it at a local nursery.
You have to shovel the walk first, it doesn't melt 2" of snow, but you know, when you shovel your sidewalk, it's not exactly dry after that. The thin film of water on the sidewalk becomes a thin film of ice, and it's usually horrifically slick. The alfalfa meal is gritty enough that it provides traction, and the nitrogen in it melts the ice. And it's a great fertilizer in small doses.
Of course, I read about this and thought, "Yeah, right." But I decided to try it because if it worked I had a fabulous alternative to the unnamed chemicals in the standard ice melter, and if it didn't I could just mix it into the garden and feed the plants. So I shoveled the walk and then sprinkled a layer of alfalfa meal evenly across it. And walking back to the house, the spaces that had been scary slippery were as comfortably stable as the same sidewalk in summer.
I won't be using anything else as an ice melter from here on out.
Posted by sally at 05:13 PM
December 30, 2004
And We Wonder Why the Rest of the World Thinks We're Frivolous and Greedy
What the current (and future) administration thinks is a worthwhile expenditure of money is compared here to the announced $35 million in tsunami relief aid. So much for compassionate conservatives.
And while I do not claim to be a member of any religious organization other than the theatre, I also do not claim (as does the President) that Jesus is my favorite philosopher. On the other hand, I find the following quotation from the bible to support my own beliefs pretty strongly.
James, chapter 2, verses 14-17:
What doth it profit, my brethren, though a man say he hath faith, and have not works? Can faith save him? If a brother or sister be naked, and destitute of daily food, and one of you say unto them, depart in peace, be ye warmed and filled; notwithstanding ye give them not those things which are needful to the body; what doth it profit? Even so faith, if it hath not works, is dead, being alone.
Mr. President, why don't you put our money where your mouth is?
Posted by sally at 02:38 PM
Dave Is Right
Okay? Is that better?
(my fingers were crossed)
Posted by sally at 12:28 PM
Blessed Freedom
Anybody who reads this on even a semi-regular basis probably knows by now that I have a tattoo. It's two weeks old today. Which means, apparently, that I can now take long, hot baths and go swimming.
Since our bathtub doesn't drain all that well right now, showering gets to be something like a long, hot bath, mostly for the feet. But I don't actually take soaking baths in the tub because we have four cats, all of whom get distressed if there is a closed door between them and myself for extended periods of time, but who also would want to join me on the edge of the tub if I didn't close the door. None of them, I hasten to add, are water cats. So baths in my house are not relaxing. I have no desire to sit naked in water with at least one complete set of claws teetering on the brink.
Consequently, the knowledge that I can soak now really doesn't do much for me, other than adding to my sense of freedom. Fewer restrictions.
Posted by sally at 11:50 AM
December 29, 2004
End of the Year Clearance
I had a voice lesson this morning. 11am. To make up for the paucity of voice lessons last semester. It was more productive than any of my previous lessons, probably because I've had a couple of insights, and also because neither of us was rushing. I wasn't coming from anywhere else and she wasn't trying to wrap things up early to move onto the next thing.
During the lesson, she asked me to come up with an animal (since the animal work did so much for me in acting last semester) that made a nice, moany "aaaaaaaaaaah" because that's the sound I constantly have trouble with. Well. Because David and I just finished reading Christopher Moore's The Stupidest Angel, the first thing that popped into my head was a zombie.
So I said, "Um, the first thing that I thought of is a zombie, but I'll work on finding another animal later." Only, I don't need to because the damn thing works. It's the perfect image for me. It relaxes everything what needs relaxin' and moves it forward. But picture, if you will, me shuffling around my instructor's studio, arms outstretched with my hands dangling at the wrist, singing a 5-tone descending scale of "aaah-aaah-aaah-aaah-aaaah." Yeah. You want the 8 year-old to come out and play, you got it.
This afternoon, I worked on getting the rest of the bricks around the yard. Dave decided last fall that all of the flowerbeds should be brick-lined. I didn't want any edging, but he was super-keen on the idea, so I agreed. We've had a pallet of rosy sunset bricks sitting in the driveway since August, and every time I've pulled into or out of the driveway, I have cringed with guilt for not getting to them. So this week, they went in.
Dave wanted the bricks around the beds, but since I'm the one doing the bricklaying, they go in the way I want them to. In the back, I followed the edge of the lawn, but it looked kind of strange. Then I realized that there are a couple of curves on one side near the front gate, but then the rest is straight with sharp corners. While it works in places, it just seems wrong on the longest unbroken stretch (where the junipers used to be). So I put a big, sweeping curve out into the lawn, which will become an extension of the flowerbed, and curved the corners on that same side. I also curved and extended the edge of the flowerbed under the kitchen window, to sort of match the sense of what was happening in the bed across from it.
Now the yard looks good; deliberate, instead of a mistake. Dave doesn't like it, but as I said before, I'm putting the bricks down, so I get to decide where down is.
While I was working on the bricks yesterday, I started feeling water on my fingers. I checked the fingertips of my years-old leather workgloves and realized I'd worn right through them. So last night I got some new ones. I got two pair. A white pair which looks alot like the old ones but fits a bit strangely and an orange pair that fit perfectly but feel a little "light." I wore the orange ones today, and they were great. Only now my fingers are orange too. Technically, I'm not made of the same things as a cow, but it's apparently close enough to cow leather that the dyes work on me as well.
Posted by sally at 04:52 PM
December 28, 2004
Need to Spend Some Tax-Deductible Cash before Saturday?
May I recommend Mercy Corps? A very good international disaster-relief organization headquartered in Portland, OR. They're already working to get needed help and supplies to tsunami survivors in Asia and Africa.
Posted by sally at 10:29 AM
December 27, 2004
THERE ARE NO MORE JUNIPERS IN THE YARD
Because I cut the last bunch down this afternoon.
Of course the above statement isn't entirely accurate. There are 3 stumps still in the ground, and all of the parts that used to be attached to them are lying in the yard waiting to be bundled into the pickup tomorrow and haled out to yard debris recycling, but the damn things are no longer big bushes.
Mind you, I'm not sure what's going in their place, but they're no longer in the way of my imagination. I still have a pink "mystery rose" from Heirloom Roses which is clearly a climber or a rambler. I can see that in the space, with the bed curving more fully out into the yard than it does right now. And a bench where the big scary bush I cut down this summer used to be. I'd also like to hang a mirror on the wooden fence. Unfortunately, it's my neighbor's fence. I may have to rig something with a trellis and a mirror. Otherwise, I dunno.
I tell you what, though, when I cut off the last big clump of growth, I felt like a hunter who had just brought down some big game nemesis. I wanted to pose for a photograph with one foot up on it.
Also today, I started reading Women Who Run with Wolves by Clarissa Pinkola Estes. I wish that in the non-story portions she dropped the storyteller a bit and strove for clarity rather than poetry. I'm having to back up and reread things to understand, and that's simply because it's so dense. I love the stories, though. And frankly, knowing the purpose of the book, I could almost read them alone and get more from them simply through the images and emotions evoked than I do with her explanations.
But I know I'm smart because I got an A in Jazz History. Which, if you were to look at earlier blogs, I was afraid I would fail. I almost dropped it at the beginning of the semester because I thought I couldn't handle it. Clearly, I'm smart enough that I don't need to prove it anymore. Not even to myself. At one point, I figured I'd settle for a B in the class and be damn pleased with it because of the effort involved, so the fact that I earned an A makes me justifiably proud.
Posted by sally at 05:20 PM
December 26, 2004
Home Again, Home Again
The cats are alive. (If somewhat distressed at their abandonment. The nice girl next door feeds and waters them, I don't know why they always think we've left forever.)
We had a fantastic time. My family is awesome, and I don't remember the last time I laughed as hard as I did at dinner last night. I feel rested and ready to take on the world. (Or at least the yard.)
Posted by sally at 07:56 PM
December 22, 2004
Happy Holidays
Getting ready to head off to the 'rents house for Christmas (and 40th anniversary) festivities.
NO SCHOOL FOR 2.5 MORE WEEKS!!! Yay!
Posted by sally at 11:40 AM
December 20, 2004
Whoooooooosh!
Grading finally all done. Grades posted. Well, first round anyway. I have to make sure that I really don't have any of the many, many unsubmitted documents before I post the final grades. There are going to be at least three unhappy students who get to take speech again.
I'm going to bed now. (After I clean my tattoo, of course.)
Posted by sally at 12:34 AM
December 18, 2004
The End of the Tunnel
I'm pretty sure it's not a train. I've got everything completely graded for one class, and now I just have to upload their grades and then I can do the same for the other class.
Whew. I can see the light. And I think I hear birds singing too.
Posted by sally at 11:35 PM
Better Now
Had a really, really good meeting with two of my committee members yesterday. After receiving a truly snotty note from one of them, I responded with a letter saying, more or less, "I don't understand what you're trying to tell me. I thought I did, but your responses, which are becoming more and more harsh, indicate that I don't. Can we please talk about this, because I'm just about ready to give up and stop being an actor."
So we had a meeting, and they were able to explain what they meant, and now that I understand what they meant, I think they're absolutely right. I will be working on those things they discussed. But the fact that I was working on what I thought was the problem and seemed to not be getting anywhere from their point of view should have indicated that I didn't get it, not that I was being stubborn and "unteachable." Because I was trying. By the end of the meeting, I think they realized that too.
Basically, I need to give more room and freedom and support to my inner eight year-old.
Speaking of which:
Okay, okay. I know eight year-olds don't usually get tattoos, but I'm not really eight, so why not use the privileges of age to do the things eight year-olds want to do but can't?
Besides, all the kids are getting them. I was one of nine MFA's who got a tatt on Thursday. Seven of us did this for the first time. (For me, this was also the last, because it hurt. I was finished about five minutes before my artist was.) We all got tattoos that had something to do with our animals. They ranged from footprints to Gaelic and Welsh words for the animals to mine, the only one in Chinese, to a Komodo Dragon skeleton and Curious George.
For those of you who are wondering what mine has to do with tigers, allow me to explain. I tried to find tracks, but most of the stuff I saw on animal footprints was about North American animals, and tigers aren't native to North America. And then I remembered about the Chinese character wang (which is what my tattoo is), which means "king." The Chinese believe that the tiger is the king of beasts because every tiger, despite having its own individual striping, has some form of the wang upon its forehead.
By the way, mine is not on my forehead. It's just below the small of my back. The picture is larger than life-size. My tatt is a bit more than an inch high.
That picture was taken Friday morning. Most of the swelling has gone down and I can feel the scabs now. So far, it hasn't started to itch.
Posted by sally at 10:17 AM
December 15, 2004
My Funny Husband
Overheard half of a phone conversation with his friend Katie:
You know what my problem--Here's my problem with you. Here's my--I have basically committed to a monogamous friendship with you, yet you continue to flout your other friends in front of me.
Posted by sally at 01:06 PM
December 13, 2004
Power
Suppose the people deciding your future looked at you one day and said, "Don't take this so personally, the things we tell you about what we do and don't like about your work. It's only one person's opinion." Would you even find the words to say, "Your opinion determines my fate?"
My friend Yolanda did. To one of her committee members. Because they can't understand why, as this committee member said to her, we "give them so much power." Tonight, at dinner (just the 2 of us at our ritual post-jury "what the fuck?" dinner) Yo said, "I don't give them jack. They have all the power. Nothing I can do will guarantee whether I do or don't get the degree I've worked so hard for and spent so much money on. I have no power. Either to take or to give." When she told her committee member that, they were speechless. Apparently these people hadn't realized that. How it could not have crossed their minds is beyond me.
I mean, you sign the paper that says yes or no, people. If your opinion is against me, I can't do anything about it. So if I take your comments in my jury personally, it's because it's an extremely personal kind of situation. If you were average theater goer, or critic for that matter, I really wouldn't care what you think as long as I know how I feel about the work I've done. But what you think is going to impact me hugely when it affects whether or not I get that degree. So how can I not get all distressed when you tell me you didn't like my work?
Posted by sally at 08:48 PM
Trying to Feel Better
Posted by sally at 10:02 AM
Frustrating
I find myself not wanting to do anything. And I do mean anything. Not shower, not eat, not even get out of bed. I know part of it is the onset of winter. And part of it is the exhaustion of finals and the end of the semester. But I can't afford to not do things. I have papers to grade and finals to take and research to start for next semester and a yard to clean up and laundry to do...
It's frustrating. And it's scary. Just like it always is when this black cloud settles on me. I suppose the cure, as always, is to do something. Then it's done. But getting myself to do it is the hardest part of the whole process.
Posted by sally at 09:43 AM
December 12, 2004
Bits-N-Pieces
There was a heavy frost last night. The poor garden must be so confused. First snow, lots of it for a couple of weeks, then heavy, soaking rains until all the snow was gone and temperatures in the 50's. Now, once the protecting snow is all gone, a serious, coat everything in glitter and pewter frost. I had parsley in the garden that was still thriving under the snow. It's dead now. And now that the sun is shining and the snow is gone, I should go out and do some cleaning up in the yard. Which I will. Once I'm done with rehearsal today.
Speaking of acting, my audition on Friday was short and sweet. The first 19 lines of the Prologue from Henry V. It goes fast. I didn't rush, but never, never, never actually fill your audition time. Leave 'em wanting more. It was nice, not having to worry about getting cast. Because I don't.
I'm in MacBeth, as a witch, at the very least, but David would be stupid to not give me something text heavy, because I have more experience and, frankly, a better sense of the language than probably anyone but John, who I would consider to be of roughly equal ability and training.
And speaking of John, if my response to the audition requirement was to grouse about 1) lack of advanced notice and 2) wasting the time of the directors who couldn't cast roughly half of the people they saw because none of the BFA or MFA candidates are available for next semester, his was even more contemptful of the whole process. I went right after he did, so I got to see and hear his audition, though I was trying really hard to focus on my own stuff.
He walked in, introduced himself and announced his piece, from Tripping Home, a play I've never heard of, but that's not surprising. I'm not into a lot of modern stuff, and there's more coming out all the time. And then, as he launched into this complicated and repetetive piece, I thought, "I hate memorizing contemporary monologues. They're so hard to get into your head. And his is really complex." And it really was a great monologue. Very clear and interesting arc, great language, and he'd clearly worked on it for a while.
After our auditions, we were chatting. He mentioned he was surprised because mine went so fast, and then he told me that he'd made his up. On the spot. Yep. He thought it was a waste of everybody's time too, and he didn't have time to work one up, so he improvised the entire thing. And this is the best part: one of the professors was in the theatre and chuckled a couple of times. John said he was just glad no one asked him for the playwright's name.
That's the kind of thing I admire. Talk about a benign disdain for convention. You go John.
Posted by sally at 09:32 AM
December 10, 2004
Dance Break!
I don't wanna grade papers today.
I dooooooOOOOOn't wanna grade papers tooooodaaAAAAAY.
I don't WANNNNNAAAAAAA GRAAAAAAAAAAAAADE PAAAAAAAAAPERS TOOOOOOOODAAAAY...
IIIIIIIIIIII don't wannna
don't wanna
don't wanna
Don't wanna grade papers tooooOOOOOoooodaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAaaaaaaay.
Thank you, thank you very much.
(You gonna finish that sandwich?)
Posted by sally at 09:50 AM
December 09, 2004
All Turned in
I have proofed my play and printed it and copied it. And it has been bound and mailed to the competition. (One of the requirements for the class was to submit the completed play to the Northwest Drama Conference One-Act Play competition.) This means that the only stuff I have left to do is audition, perform and take one final.
Oh yeah. And grade roughly 200 papers and about 35 speeches. For which students will be clamoring during my office hours tomorrow. Ugh.
And because it is winter and the snow is almost gone and it's been raining all day:
Posted by sally at 07:52 PM
December 08, 2004
Dave Says It's Good
I guess I have to believe him. Of course, he nullified his right to an opinion when he announced, "It has no reflection on you, but now I'm humming the theme to Hogan's Heroes."
Gee. Thanks. (cue irony)
I write this powerful and moving play about three soldiers in a POW camp in a nameless, timeless war; a play about losing hope and finding it again, and all Dave gets out of it is the theme from Hogan's Heroes. I hope that's an islolated response.
Posted by sally at 10:12 PM
Printing Friends Are Good in the Day of Battle
That would be the title of my play (from a plaque, the only thing commemorating the soldiers who surrendered to the Nazis at a little French village called St. Valery).
I can't tell if it's good anymore. The ending seems really cheesy to me. But I can't figure out how else to end it. I'm going to ask Dave to read it. Maybe he can help.
Posted by sally at 09:16 PM
Happy Birthday Mom
I love you.
Posted by sally at 06:33 PM
December 07, 2004
I Mean It This Time
It's done. Proofed (by Dave too), printed and stapled and just waiting to be delivered tomorrow in class. Now I just have to:
1)Edit, finish, copy and bind my play. Mail it to the required competition and submit the other copy to Micki.
2) Grade all of the speeches and papers I haven't graded yet and then enter and submit grades. I hate to do it, but I've got some failing students. I told them what they needed to do to pass, and they just didn't do it. Nasty surprises ahead for them, I suspect, and possibly some complaints for me. I'm not looking forward to those conversations, despite having all the backup I'll need in the form of grades and attendance records.
3) Audition. This would include working on my audition piece. Prologue. Henry V.
4) Perform in John's directing scene. Which should be fun and take next to no time, provided I'm a bit more solid on the lines. These, stuck in my head almost from day one, unlike the torturous things I had to try to say correctly in Independence. Go figure.
5) Kill a number of people in my acting class final. As of this afternoon's class, I will be killing off the characters of Luis (public shooting), Heather (poison, like her character has poisoned my soul) and Karl (probably hand to hand as he tries to kill Heather--She's MY kill, dammit). I have also been hired to kill John, but everybody wants to kill him, so I suspect I won't get that one. Yolanda is supposed to go batshit crazy and kill me.
6) Endure my jury. Defend myself and not get too bloody in the process. Thank goodness I only have two more of these to go. (And they'll each be followed by the semi-annual post-jury drinkage with Yolanda, one of my favorite parts of the semester.)
7) Take my jazz history final.
8) Sleep. Sleep lots. Sleep often.
And then I'm done for the semester.
Of course, after that...
Posted by sally at 07:50 PM
It's Done!
The damned thing is done! Well, when I say done, I mean it has a beginning, a middle and an end, and that it fits within the required limits. It needs editing (again), I suspect. Though I have edited and re-edited the first 5-6 pages so thoroughly that they're pretty clean. Now I have to do the same to the last 4. But I don't have to come up with any more stuff out of my head. I just have to massage what's already there.
I'm taking a break and rewarding myself with toast. I didn't have breakfast yet (or brush my teeth--eeew!) I just got up, poured some coffee and a glass of water and started working.
Posted by sally at 10:10 AM
December 05, 2004
Ugh. Still Working on the Ma Rainey Paper
I don't think it will ever end. It's roughly 5 1/2 pages now, but I've got so much more to say. (Or to not say, if I get to 10 pages before I finish.) I stopped where I did because I wanted to be sure the first bit was functional, and it seems to be now, with some moving and cutting and expanding. But wow, is it ever work. More work than it really ought to be, I think.
I don't know why I'm having so much trouble writing papers for this class. Last semester, the papers for Chinese History just sort of flowed out of my fingers, and I knew no more about it when I started than I did about jazz. This semester, it's a long and painful process.
So when the cleaner comes tomorrow, Dave has to tell her to leave the coffee table alone. It's covered with books and papers and strips of paper with quotations on them, and I really really need it to be not organized any way other than it is organized now. I've promised to clean the coffee table myself once I'm done. (She's also not allowed to touch the ottoman. Same reason, different project.)
However. Along with working on this paper, I managed to do most of the laundry (2 weeks' worth) and keep the kitchen clean and get some good loving time in with the beasties. I don't know how anyone can say cats are aloof. They were draped all over me today. At one point, Imogen was pressed up along the side of my leg, tucked under my arm, with her head resting in my hand. Yeah. That's aloof.
Posted by sally at 08:35 PM
It's Snowing
In a very determined way. This snow is not messing about. it's not blizzarding, just small flakes falling with a marked no nonsense attitude.
Dave and I finished Terry Pratchett's latest, Going Postal, last night. And that was depressing. Not the book, the book rocks. Finishing it was depressing. Because it was his latest. So we can't expect anything new for another year. And his books are wonderful.
Next we're going to read You Are a Dog by fellow UPS alum and Palouse resident Terry Bain.
Imogen is on the couch next to me. She's snoring. It's very comforting.
Posted by sally at 09:24 AM
December 04, 2004
Kitten Update
Continuing to get enormous. Poly is now 10.6 lbs. and sleek, sleek, sleek. Somebody said the other day, "That's not a cat, it's a cougar." Well, we're certainly in the right part of the world for that.
Posted by sally at 10:18 AM
December 03, 2004
A Little Better Today
Because after an 8 page section of my play was read in Playwriting (it's a scene between 2 characters and I wanted to hear it to figure out whether it flows okay), there was a pause. And then Micki said, "That's a wonderful piece of writing." And another student said, "I got lost in the story."
Wow.
Posted by sally at 09:20 PM
December 02, 2004
I Am a Bad, Bad Person
Two friends and colleagues of mine are getting ready to move to Ashland, Oregon to begin work with the Oregon Shakespeare Festival for their 2005 season. I am excited and happy for them both. But at the same time, I am so jealous that everything around me has taken on a green tint. I'm as good as they are. When will I get my chance? WHEN? When will I have paid enough dues that I get to go play with the Big Boys?
It makes me so angry sometimes, and so full of despair. I'm always too old or too female or too tall (or too fat). I can't even begin to enumerate the number of times directors I want to work with have cast someone with less training and half the ability and then said to me, "I haven't found the right role for you yet." My ass you haven't, you just gave the right role for me to the teeny blonde chick with the big tits.
Mind you, I've had some great roles over the past year. But those were in college productions, where no one else had the training or the talent to do it (sometimes they had the talent, but not the training, sometimes vice versa, sometimes they had neither). So when do professional directors start to realize what I can do? When does that happen?
Who do I have to fuck to get a waffle around here?
(From Frankie & Johnny, if you don't recognize the reference.)
Posted by sally at 04:46 PM
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