And suddenly......my life exploded!
In a (mostly, I think) good way!
Phew.
Here we go. This will be all out of order, most likely, but who the fuck cares anyway?
Saturday afternoon found me singing alto and treble in Aldo's bedroomw ith a few staunch singing friends. Kelsey was in town from Boston for a little bit, and Lauren and Jesse came over to see her. I sang with her, and then when she left and Rachel and Zeke came in, I sang treble. I didn't sing tenor at all during the actual singing. It was interesting.
Saturday night, I saw "Passing Strange" at the Belasco with Miss Molly Garber. she got comps through some producer-type person. We were seated directly behind none other than Peter Dagger, a fellow Saratoga Shakespearean, and his friend Jeremy, both of whom appeared at La MaMa a few weeks ago. The show was really, really enjoyable-- one of the actors who I saw (and met) in Well when it was in Boston, Colman, was in the show and he is really a delight to watch. Speaking of delights, I felt so happy to be with Molly--I don't see her enough. I don't really see anyone enough.
After the show, we went by train and foot, in the cold rain, to a bar on Avenue C to meet up with my cousin Matt at a party for his girlfriend, Sarah. This was the first time I had met her and she was so lovely and sweet and I was glad that I made it to the fete.
Before I go any further, here: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ABE LINCOLN! And Ian Merrigan. And Mike Anderson. And Ben Silverstein.
Sunday morning found me being a real person, accompanied by another real person, in my neighborhood-- getting coffee, walking by the water, going in stores, things like that. I like Williamsburg more and more. Excuse me while I go get an ugly haircut. (Oh god, knock on wood, I shouldn't say things like that so soon before my appointment.) Really though-- why resist? Don't be a hater.
This is a gem from hilarious friend and former resident of Amsterdam, Justin:
Justin:
randy quaid is going to be in my nightmares now
i cant believe how crazy he is
he's a QUAID
that's a halftstep away from lower-tiered Baldwin
between a baldwin and a wayans, i'd say
and he sure the hell ain't no Guy Williams JR.
That he ain't, Justin.
After that I had a day at work, a brief stint at a baby's birthday party (she was asleep, I ate food), and a night at Erin and Jimmy's newly-painted and rearranged apartment. The decoupaged tray I made them long ago now has a place on the newly-appointed 'kitsch corner,' right under the Ouija board with a swastika on it. Yes! I fell asleep as soon as I got there. Erin and I ate bagels in the morning and then I made the stupid decision to go shopping. For clothes. In real stores. Obviously a bad idea. Like I don't know myself or something.
This morning, starting at 8 am, I ran tech for my surly bastard child of a play, The Civil Wargasm. It was satisfying and frustrating-- I had to work very hard and exercise my best SM/director/techie muscles. Pat had laid some really good tech groundwork for me, but I invented a light design that I think works okay, and created some sound transitions that are, I think, effective. This is borderline bragging for me. Who is this new Anna who acknowledges when she does work? And good work, at that? (Cocky bitch that she is, I'm sure she'll be nowhere to be found in a few moments.) Michael and I revisited our realization (had on World AIDS day last year) that we cannot and will not ever, ever date-- it's good to make sure you know who to avoid so as to not waste time, right?-- which no one found as hilarious as us, of course. Hysteria was constantly being beaten away, and the fact that I had to climb a rope to get into the booth DIDN'T help. But I love working. I love working. Even when I'm tired and lazy, I love working.
Though not at LM. I mean, not this kind of work.
(HIRE ME! Said like Maeby's MARRY ME!)
Now, work. Tonight, Carnivale and tea. And electric blanket. And dreams of cuddling with Slinky.
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2 comments:
That thing they say? About only being in this business if you HAVE to be?
Well, ok, I'll put it this way. If I was stuck inside a volcano and *had* to climb a rope to escape the rising lava (very slowly rising, apparently) I still could not climb that rope. If someone told me I had to climb a rope to do theatre? Well, fuck that shit. So, I admire your dedication and I'm glad I'm in teaching school. We both seem to have made good personal choices.
well.....i should have clarified, but i didn't, because it sounded more dramatic left vague-- BUT, the rope was there as an aid. basically, i had to climb a set of steps that were actually just a ladder. in the wall. and there was also a pole. and a rope. the picture i want to be painting here is GHETTO.
also, it wasn't as bad as the booth in the american theatre for actors, which you get to by climbing a 15-20 foot ladder attached to the wall. i am suprised that people literally don't die when they have to run shows there. it is INSANE. i give board ops a lot more credit than i used to.
also this reminds me of the episode of freaks and geeks where the boys have to climb ropes in gym class. my experience is mirrored by the super-overweight kid, gordon crisp, who just says "you've got to be kidding me." ugh.
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